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But like I’d told her, she’d made amazing progress. I wasn’t about to fuck that up.
Jasmine sat in the middle of the couch, and I settled in one corner, laying my arm over the back without touching her. She scooted closer, almost brushing against my side.
“I think I have a new favorite pastime,” she murmured, staring at my lips.
I smirked. “You’re welcome to kiss me whenever.”
“Off the clock,” she tacked on with a hint of question in her voice.
“As long as we’re in agreement, then I have zero issues of you taking whatever you want, whenever you want it.”
“This?” She lifted her gaze to my eyes.
I opened my mouth but shut it again, wondering how the hell to put into words what I felt for her. Lust? Protectiveness? Friendship didn’t begin to put a dent in the truth of our connection. I wondered if she experienced the same, or if I was simply a guy she found attractive enough to test herself with. Once able to move on, would I even be a part of her future? That thought twisted my stomach into knots. I did not want to even consider another man laying his hands on her even with her consent.
“Well, what I’m feeling for you is much more than mere friendliness,” I finally said. “I care about you. I’d like to see you healed completely and live unhindered. I also want to be a part of that life.”
Her brows shot up, and her head tilted to the side.
God, did I want to kiss her.
“But,” I continued before she could speak, “if you’re using me just to test yourself, I’m available for that too. Your needs are more important to me than my own.”Fuck, did that hurt to say.
Her lips parted, and I filled my lungs with her sweetness as she moved in toward me. Already given the green light on kissing, I responded once she made first contact.
Jasmine had told me in detail what the foster asshole had done to her, and I had no desire to remind her of his touch, including anything that might feel like force. I wanted to devour her mouth, take everything she offered, but contented myself with gentleness. Lips brushing, tongues tasting in a slow, languid dance made my cock swell to life.
She leaned in closer, her soft breasts pressing against me, her hand on my chest. Both of us breathed heavy when she finally pulled back.
“I really want you to try touching me,” she whispered.
I didn’t need a second offering. Slowly, I placed my palm over the back of the hand she still held to my chest.
She didn’t shy away but simply stared up at me as I laced my fingers through hers.
“You trust me?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you know what a safeword is?”
She nodded. “I…um. Well, I’ve studied the BDSM lifestyle over the previous couple of months. I’m definitely intrigued by it.” She shrugged, her face a gorgeous shade of pink.
Fucking hell, this woman.
“We’ll go with red,” I rasped. “Yellow is you’re not sure and want a break, and green means you’re good to try for more.”
“Alright.” She still sounded too hesitant for me to make a move in good conscience.
“If you’ve read up on BDSM,” I said, “then you know you hold all the power, Jasmine. You’re in charge of what you do and don’t want. You might believe allowing me to touch you is me having the upper hand—but I will obey whatever you say, understand?”
Her body went pliant, a steady exhale sagging her shoulders. “I-I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
“You’re in control. Always.”
She swallowed and nodded, tears hazing her eyes. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me. These are the rules I chose to live by as a Dom. My code of conduct, and no matter how much I want to ravish every inch of your skin, I’m not going to push for more than you’re willing to allow.”
