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"Does this happen to you…often?"
He stops walking, pressing me up against the wall. "Look at me."
I refuse.
"Look at me," he orders, hooking his finger beneath my chin.
I reluctantly lift my face to his, meeting his clear blue eyes.
"I've never fucking done this with anyone."
"Which part?"
"Any of it."
I gape at him. "You are so not a virgin."
He flinches, something a lot like regret flowing through his eyes. "No," he murmurs. "I'm not. Right now, I wish like hell I could tell you that I was, but I'm not. I haven't been with anyone since I was in college, but I'm not a saint."
"That was ten years ago," I whisper, shocked.
"I'm aware." His dry tone makes me snort. "I learned a whole helluva lot here at the club, but I've never brought anyone here. I've never participated. I've never been interested." His gaze flits across my face. "Until tonight. Until you." He wraps his handaround my throat, brushing his lips across mine. "Don't think this means less to me than it does, Dilemma. Everything we experience here; I'm experiencing for the first time too. And I'm doing it with you. That matters."
"Okay," I whisper, my heart fluttering.
He kisses me again, slow and deep this time. I get lost in it, all my worries vanishing as his tongue works with mine in a sinuous dance that he seems to know all too well. Jeez. The man knows how to kiss. He's sinfully good at it.
By the time he lets me up for air, I'm dazed and aching again, ready for another round of what we just did.
"One step at a time, beautiful," he murmurs, cupping my cheek. "There's plenty of time for what comes next. This weekend is about discovering what you like. We've got all the time in the world to decide what comes after that, okay?"
"Okay," I whisper, putting my fate in his hands.
He smiles at me, pride shining in those baby blues. "Fuck. I want to eat you up."
Now, that's a plan I can get behind.
He must see it on my face because he chuckles, groaning. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Dilemma. Before you get yourself into trouble you aren't ready for yet."
"Who says I'm not ready?" I demand to know.
"I do." He taps me on the nose, smirking. "Now, what did you like most about what was happening in there?"
The thought of you doing any of those things to me.
"I don't know."
"The fact that everyone was watching?"
I quickly shake my head. I can't imagine myself being in her place, with a roomful of strangers watching me. It's not something I think I want to experience.
"Thank god," he mutters, seemingly relieved. "Did you like watching?"
"Maybe a little bit," I admit, blushing. "But…"
"But what?"
I reach deep for a little bit of nerve and tell him what I really liked. "I imagined it was us," I whisper. "I was the one tied up, helpless. You were doing those things to me. That's what I liked, Bronx." I bite my lip. "And I liked the way you watched me while I touched myself."
