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“Have I made you uncomfortable? Because if I have, I’ll stop watching them. I’ll unsubscribe right now if you want me to.”
“No,” she said quickly, shooting her hand out to rest on his arm. “I’m kind of embarrassed?”
“Why? They’re brilliant. I love how you’re unashamedly telling women that what they want is important. Sex isn’t all about men having Os.”
He’d nailed the whole purpose of the series. It was the underlying theme and part of her motivation in talking about sex. “Right? Society looks at everything with a patriarchal lens, especially sex. We have to be pretty, but not too pretty to stand out. We need to speak up, but only if we don’t make anyone uncomfortable. We need to open our bodies to men, but society wants us to be virgins and not sexually active. We have to wear knee-length dresses, but if we do, we’re prudish and if we don’t, we’re sluts. It’s bullshit.” She couldn’t help the passion bleeding into her voice, the higher pitch and volume with which she spoke.
He nodded as she continued, encouraging her. He was leaning forward now, forearms braced on the table, fire in his eyes, as she scrunched up her paper napkin and tossed it in the bowls. Women had to walk a fine line, and when a toxic social media culture was added in, creating an impossible-to-achieve standard, it infuriated her.
She exhaled slowly, forcing herself to lower her voice once more, and added, “Removing the stigma around women talking about and having good sex—whether it’s alone or with one or more people—is important to me. With all the shit happening around the world, we should be able to demand something as fundamental as an orgasm or five. You’ve seen some of what I talk about. I love being able to, I don’t know, motivate women? Is that the right thing to say? Like, inspire them to stand up and ask for what they want while understanding that they aren’t alone in what they’re going through. I admitted this week that it’s rare for a guy to get me over the line. There’s nothing wrong with me—I can do it perfectly fine myself—but when I consider how much time I focus on them compared to theirs on me, it’s not surprising. They aren’t trying. Maybe it’s because I haven’t been vocal enough—”
“No, don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself for other people’s shortcomings,” he reassured her, linking their fingers together. He huffed and added, “God, if I had even a moment with you, I’d leave you in no doubt that my aim was to give you as many Os as I could.”
Heat curled low in her belly, the tendrils of desire instantly rekindling and licking at her like flames. She shivered. Damn, this man was potent. Adelaide wanted him, and now.
She shifted in her seat again and his eyes darkened, his nostrils flaring at the motion. “Most guys don’t think like you, at least not the ones I’ve been with,” she clarified. “I was a means to an end, the way they got themselves off. I was using them too, but obviously wasn’t as good at it as they were—”
“Again, that’s not on you—”
“It is, though. They got what they needed, and I didn’t. But I understand my body more now and can get myself off whenever I’m in the mood—multiple times when I want.”
“And the record?” he asked, his tone like gravel and his eyes almost black.
“I’ll let you know when you beat it.” Kingston closed his eyes and slipped his free hand under the table. She saw him shift his weight, tugging at his jeans. He was hard. He was as turned on as she was; it was a hell of a rush.
“You ready to leave?” he growled, blinked, then seemed to shake himself out of the haze of lust. “Sorry, I promised you a date.”
“Get up, Kingston. We’re leaving.”
*****
He pulled up to the timber gate. If it wasn’t for the break in the shrubbery, she wouldn’t have known that a six-foot fence ran along the front of the property—a tall hedge grew to completely cover it. It and the tree that branched out above, creating a canopy over much of the front yard was all Adelaide could see in the dark. The giant eucalypt was beautiful.
“Wait here,” he instructed before hopping out and opening the gate.
Adelaide couldn’t help but admire the view. His jeans hugged thick thighs and the jacket showed off broad shoulders. Kingston was an enigma. Shy and retiring one moment, but in the next he’d drop his guard and say something that hinted at the lion he would be in bed. She couldn’t wait to find out.
He slipped back into the car and eased it forward. Moving beyond the tree and along the narrow gravel drive, he parked next to a set of stairs leading up to the small high-set cottage. Adelaide had been enamoured when they’d arrived earlier. The house was old but well-loved and every corner showed Kingston’s influence on it.
The light he’d switched on at the top of the stairs illuminated the thick reddish-timber steps guiding their way inside. The restored white iron railing was intricate in its design and matched the screen door. Behind the creaky screen was a timber door the same colour as the stairs outside and the polished timber flooring inside. The deep red contrasted beautifully against the olive-green exterior, white trim of the door and window frames and pale green-grey interior walls, all of it painted by Kingston and his dad. It was what they did—when something like the screen had seen better days, Kingston tried to restore it to its former glory. He said it wasn’t because he wanted to avoid buying a new one; he had new things throughout the house, but he preferred to take a little time and give old and broken things a new life. He took such good care mending and rejuvenating his house and all the furniture inside it that each piece had a second chance to shine. It said a lot about how Adelaide thought he hoped people saw him—a renovated body with a second chance to really live.
Adelaide met Kingston at the back of the car as he closed the gate and held out his arm to help her over the pebbles. When they entered the house, he dropped his keys and wallet on the white distressed bookshelf sitting next to the door. That simple move—the shake of keys announcing their arrival—made the air between them crackle.
She couldn’t wait any longer. Stepping around him, Adelaide grasped the lapels on his jacket and pushed Kingston back against the door. He didn’t put up any resistance, instead letting her move him into position. She liked this part of him, the sexy, quiet-as-a-mouse teacher that she could control with a gentle shove.
His eyes darkened and his tongue swept out, licking along his bottom lip. Plump flesh that she wanted to bite. Pressing herself against him, Adelaide lifted onto her tiptoes and dragged his face to hers by the nape of his neck. She followed the path his tongue had taken with her own and slid her other hand to his hip, pulling him closer. His eyes rolled back in his head and he moaned softly. She nipped his bottom lip between hers, before sinking her teeth into the flesh there. Kingston inhaled sharply and his eyes snapped to hers. There was no mistaking the need there. The barely constrained desire.
She was right. He was like a pent-up lion, stalking across his cage, ready to roar and show her just what kind of king of the jungle he was. His nostrils flared and his pupils glazed over. Desire looked damn good on him. That look, the alpha predator waiting to be set free lit a fire inside her. His semi grew harder against her belly as he tugged her hips, grinding against her. It didn’t matter that they had layers of material between them; Adelaide knew he would be a hell of a handful. There was no mistaking the generous bulge he sported even when he was soft.
With each slow grinding thrust, he rubbed himself on her, sending sparks of awareness to her clit. She was coming apart at the seams and if she didn’t get her hand, lips, or her pussy around that gorgeous shaft, she was going to combust.
“Kiss me,” he ordered, his voice a low rasp. Adelaide had never heard a sexier sound.
Cupping his face, she licked his bottom lip again before pulling back in a tease. She was on the edge, her restraint so close to snapping that she was going out of her mind. She wanted, no needed, to let that beast out to play. For all his talk of how he would care for her, Adelaide needed Kingston to step up, to look after her.
One hand slid down to her arse, gripping the cheek tightly, the other cupping the back of her head. He pulled her close and didn’t give her a chance to hesitate. To overthink. His lips slammed against hers and he kissed her hard, his tongue forcing her mouth open as he hoisted her up. A squeak ripped past her lips, surprise shocking her into action. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and arms around his shoulders as he growled and shifted her, moving her up and down so she rubbed against his thick shaft. It was as if Adelaide weighed nothing, Kingston not even breaking a sweat as he held her weight in one hand, his other still holding her face to his.
She melted against him, wanting to keep holding on like a koala up a gum tree. Kingston growled and punched his hips forward as he pulled her weight down and Adelaide cried out at the quickening that sparked under her skin. “Oh fuck,” she breathed, breaking away from his lips. He growled again, the vibration travelling through her chest and throat where Kingston had pressed his lips. Dragging her up the length of his cock, he thrust hard again, pulling her down once more and Adelaide shuddered.
