Chapter 7 #2
For a few moments, I consider how I want to answer him before going with the truth.
“To be honest, I’ve never met anyone I’ve had a spark with before.
I’ve dated men. I’ve had sex with several.
No one has ever made me tingle. Until you.
I’m honestly more turned on lying next to you without us touching than I’ve ever been with any man I’ve actually had sex with. ”
He slowly smiles. “That’s promising.”
I roll my eyes. “The point is, there’s no way I would marry someone I haven’t slept with. Seems like a horrible idea. What if we weren’t good in bed?”
He reaches for my hand and threads our fingers together, taking his time in responding. “I both hate and love that you’ve never felt a spark with another man. I hate that you’ve been denied the experience for twenty-six years, but my head is growing a bit larger knowing you feel tingly with me.”
“Oh great…” I tease.
“As for us being good in bed, you already know the answer to that. The room is shimmering and hot from our lust. And, for the record, I’ve also never felt this connected to a woman. It was always just sex. Scratching an itch. It’s not going to be that way with you. I can feel it in my bones.”
I agree. He’s right. “But what if it isn’t?” I counter.
His eyes narrow. “Tell me about these bad lovers you’ve had. Did any of them make you come?”
My face heats. “No,” I whisper. “I was, however, the common denominator in every relationship I’ve been in.”
He smiles warmly. “Baby…”
I love that he’s started calling me baby.
Not princess. Though I don’t mind so much when he calls me princess, either.
He doesn’t mean it in an insulting way. He isn’t implying I’m high-maintenance or uppity.
When he uses that word, I genuinely think he sees me as worthy of being treated like a princess.
But when he calls me baby… That’s deeper. It’s intimate. It gives me chills.
“If a man can’t take the time to ensure you’re taken care of before himself, he’s selfish.”
I’m not sure about that. “What if it takes forever and I’m just not going to get there?”
“Then you shouldn’t be with him. You wouldn’t be so disconnected if he were Mr. Right.”
“What if he were Mr. Fancy Jeans?” I joke. All this talk about my horrible past sexual experiences is a bit mortifying.
Adrian chuckles. When he’s done, he sobers and asks, “Is that a concern you have? Not having good sex with your husband.”
“Of course.”
“What if I make you come without taking out my cock. Would that assuage your fears?”
I nearly choke. “People don’t actually orgasm during sex, do they?”
His eyes widen. “I don’t know about people in general, but I intend for my wife to be so fucking satisfied that she wants to jump my bones regularly.”
“But during sex? Like from penetration instead of a vibrator?”
He blinks. “Have you only ever orgasmed with a vibrator, baby?” His question is delivered gently. Again, not condescending or judgmental.
And my face heats further. “Yes.”
“Alone?”
I close my eyes and tip my head, embarrassed. “Yes.”
He puts a finger under my chin. “Look at me, baby.”
I meet his gaze because it’s impossible to ignore his request.
“Vibrators are great. I’m not opposed to enhancing sex with them. But you’re not going to need one with me, and I would never want you to feel so neglected that you felt like you had to masturbate when I’m not around.”
This conversation is so deep. So fucking intense. I can’t believe we only met today. I can’t contemplate the fact that we’re literally pondering the possibility of getting married. And now sex. I’ve never had a discussion this frank about sex with anyone. Not even a girlfriend.
“Life isn’t a fairytale,” I murmur.
“Why not?” His finger slides from my chin to my lips. He strokes the bottom one. “Maybe ours can be.” He leans in closer. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
“Please,” I whisper.
Instead of sealing our lips together, he continues talking. “You’re going to get all hot and bothered while I’m kissing you, and then I’m going to reach under your T-shirt and finger you until you come.”
My breath hitches before all the air leaves my lungs. He’s so confident. And holy shit, but a tightness forms in my belly. It’s the feeling I get when I’m rubbing my clit just before I come. A rush of arousal comes out of my pussy. I’m so wet that it’s running over my thigh to soak the sheet.
My breasts feel heavy, and I want to reach up and touch them. Pinch my own nipples. I need the pressure. If I had the confidence, I would twist them to the point of pain.
“Say yes, Blair. Ask me to kiss you and make you come.”
I swallow. My mouth is dry. “Please kiss me, Adrian. And if you make me come, I’ll be at the courthouse at nine with a bouquet in my hand.”
His smile is broad and promising. “Better be prepared to get up early then. We’re going to need to call my sisters-in-law until we find one who has a dress that will fit you. I don’t imagine you want to get married in this T-shirt.”
“What if it’s still storming?”
“Then we’ll get wet.”
I giggle. He does this to me. Lightens the mood and makes me feel warm and fuzzy. “When is the kiss going to take place?”