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“Yes, I must admit, I have a new appreciation for your stamina.”
“So, what did he do to you?” I squirmed a little, pressing my thighs together, and I knew it wasn’t a subtle enough motion to escape his notice.
“Well,” he began with a slow, audible breath. He brushed my hair back from my neck and slowly drew his fingers up and down, from the bend of my collarbone to the top of my breast and back as he spoke. “There was a bit of making out, then he made me wait for a rather long time. On my knees, which hurt a fair bit more than I’d considered it might. I always give thought to how your joints feel when you’re bound, or what kinds of positions you can hold, but kneeling seemed so benign, I never stopped to think about how it was affecting your knees and back.”
I leaned into his touch with a happy sigh. “I’m fine with it. It’s much better than some of the other positions you’ve put me in. What else happened?”
“I sucked his cock. He rimmed me, there was some ass play—”
Though it would have been nice to be a totally mature adult, there was something so bizarre to me about hearing Neil very matter-of-factly, almost clinically, even, describing the sex he’d had with someone who wasn’t me. I burst out into a storm of giggles.
“Should I go on?” he asked, scolding.
I forced myself to settle down and twisted to face him. I smoothed his chest hair under my palms and tried to make eye contact with my most serious face on. It only half worked. “I’m sorry. I’m just… I don’t know, it’s so naughty. Did you, um…did you go all the way?”
“Yes, we did.” He lips quirked in the half-smile I found so damned appealing. “I let him fuck me.”
“Wow, really?” I tried to imagine it, but nothing my brain came up with was satisfactory. I was going to have to see this with my own two eyes. “Hey, you know…that’s something we have in common. We’ve both been fucked by Emir.”
“That we have,” he agreed, with a little eye roll and laugh that suggested I didn’t know the half of it.
Oh, I wanted to know the half of it.
“He’s very good,” Neil continued, holding me tight with one arm as he leaned forward for his glass. He took a long sip and grimaced in the way of a truly satisfied scotch drinker. “You never told me how good.”
“I wasn’t sure I was supposed to. I didn’t want to make you fee
l as though I were comparing the two of you.” I leaned in for a kiss, tasting the alcohol on his mouth. “Besides, I’m sure it’s different, having sex with a woman than with a man, right?”
“It is. I find my hands end up in different places on a woman’s body than on a man’s, for one,” he said, silently offering me his glass.
I took it and lifted it for a sip. “How so?”
“Well, for example, if I’m fucking a man from behind, I’ve noticed I’ll generally hold on to his shoulder or put my hands at the small of his back, whereas with a woman—”
“You’ll pull her hair or grab her hips,” I finished for him with a knowing nod. I took a swallow from the glass and handed it back to him.
“Exactly. And it doesn’t seem to have anything to do with body type.”
“Huh.” I shrugged. “I guess I never thought of little habits like that, if I have any.”
I gave in to one of the naughty impulses pinging in my brain and pulled my t-shirt over my head. I tossed it aside with a grin, my breath lifting my tits in my cute polka dot bra.
He smiled and sighed, leaning back contentedly. “Very pretty, darling. But I am exhausted.”
“That’s okay.” I shrugged. “Talking about sex with you is still in my top fifteen favorite things to do.”
“Didn’t make the top ten, did it? Bad luck.” He reached up and stroked his knuckles over the curve of one padded cup.
“Don’t feel bad. The top seven all involve Chinese food buffets.” I lay against him again, loving the feel of his chest hair against my back.
I loved the way his voice felt rumbling beneath me, too. “It was a very good evening, Sophie. Though I would appreciate it in the future if you didn’t surprise me like that again.”
“Noted.” I did feel badly about that part. “I shouldn’t have done it that way. I should have brought the idea up to you, first, and not to Emir.”
“I’d also like to know when you’re communicating with him. I have always told you when I’ve received an email from Emir, or when we’ve spoken. I’m perfectly happy having a friend we sleep with from time to time, but for the sake of my own jealous heart, let’s have transparency.” His big, warm hand stroked down my back, soothing me, telling me he wasn’t angry with me. Neil might not have realized it himself, but he was much better at communicating through body language than speaking. He wasn’t as conscious in choosing casual gestures as he was in selecting his words.
“Deal,” I agreed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think of how that might look from your side.”
