21. Baldo
“You’re such an asshole,” she snaps and slides past me.
Stopping by the dining table, she groans. Yeah, there is nowhere to go, sweetheart.
She turns to me. “It was humiliating enough, you don’t need to poke into it constantly.” The vulnerability in her eyes fucking guts me.
“Humiliating?”
What is she going on about? God, we can’t find a common language here. Perhaps because we’re both avoiding the real topics.
I walk to her, this time approaching gently because she draws the animal out of me, but I’m not an asshole who would get off on her insecurities.
I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “It was beautiful, fucking hot, and a perfect fantasy coming true building you up, almost letting you come. The next part was confusing, but you have nothing to be embarrassed about. I can be a lot to take.”
She makes a dismissive sound. “You think this was about your sexual prowess? God, you’re full of yourself.” She crosses her arms over her chest and then frowns. “Wait? Almost letting me come? It was the best fucking orgasm of my life.”
“Sweetheart, you didn’t even come yet. Not by my standards, for sure.”
She blinks repeatedly. “But I’ve… I never… It was so…” She keeps tripping over her words, and then she groans. “Okay, I need to tell you something, but… promise you won’t judge me.”
What’s going on here? The furious pixie from earlier has changed into this shy, gentle fairy. “Brook, it’s me. We used to share everything.”
We both still, the tension that usually grips us at the mention of the past sweeping through us before she blows a raspberry, her shoulders hunching.
“I’ve never had an orgasm.”
Now it’s my turn to blink. “Come again?” Too late, I realize the poor choice of words.
“I’ve never had one,” she snaps and fidgets, wiggling her shoulders like the words are ants crawling up her back. “And don’t be weird about it.”
“But you dated.” Fuck, I’m making it weird.
“Yes, I guess there is something wrong with me.” She wants to turn away, but I don’t let her this time.
Grabbing her arm, I pull her to me. She hides her face in my chest. I give her a moment, but then I nudge her chin up, forcing her to look at me. This is not something I’m saying into her crown.
“There is nothing wrong with you, Tokyo.”
She narrows her eyes, not believing me perhaps.
“Baby, I got a taste, and you’ve got the most tantalizing pussy. It’s a severe offense to taste you and not finish the job.”
“According to you, you committed that offense.”
“I didn’t get a chance to finish. But you were close, and I guess not ever seeing the meteorite shower, you thought that a falling star was it.”
“Aren’t you poetic? God, this is mortifying.” She hides her face in my chest again.
“Hey, stop it. I’m glad you trusted me with this.”
“I need a drink,” she mumbles into my shirt.
“Another margarita?” I move to the kitchen and take out the blender.
“How do you know what I had?”
“It’s my club.”
She joins me and leans on her elbows across from me on the island. It pushes her tits together, practically spilling them from her stupid, tempting dress.
White, almost see-through; when I saw it on the security screen I almost shut down the club to wash everyone’s eyes with bleach.
I’m sure I wasn’t the only one getting hard just from a glimpse of it. Though the current situation in my pants is a result of both her cleavage and, if I’m honest, her revelation.
I can’t believe it. And a part of me is so fucking happy about it. Not that she’s had such an unsatisfying sexual life, but that I can still…
I can’t even think about that, because it feels like a commitment I’m not ready to offer. Not with her. Not again. I might be a complete idiot around her, but I still have some preservation instincts left.
She watches me as I mix the drinks and pour us each a frosty cocktail.
Brook takes hers to the table, but she doesn’t sit, just leans against it. I put my glass on the counter and walk round it to stand on the other side.
I have never considered the size of my apartment a problem, but right now it feels so fucking large. Technically she is still in my kitchen, and yet she feels so far.
Taking out my phone, I use the app to dim the lights. When my eyes lock with hers, it’s a sucker punch of feelings. Raw need. She’s fucking perfect here in my space.
I could just… Nope, not going there. I drain my margarita in one gulp.
But the thought persists. In a sense, I could be her… Fuck. A level head and pragmatism are two things I’ve always been able to rely on.
But the depraved caveman who enjoyed his dormant status for years is up and ready to party.
I could be her first.
“Perhaps you were always meant to be my first,” she challenges. It’s not the shy, quiet I’m yours she threw at me before.
Her eyes dare me. Fuck. At least we are on the same page.
My cock takes her up on that offer immediately. When her eyes drop to the bulge in my jeans and she licks her lips, I abandon any and all restraint. Control. And common sense.
I pounce.
Grabbing her wrists and knocking her drink down, I whip her around and twist her arms behind her. I trap her hands between her lower back and my stomach and lower my mouth to her ear.
“This is how it’s going to go down. I’m going to make you come as many times as I please, and you will let me. Is that clear?”
Her breath hitches and she bobs her head, nodding.
“Use your words, Brook,” I growl.
“Jesus, you’re bossy.”
I push her, face down, onto the table and lift that infuriatingly short skirt of hers. I put my hand on her neck, my thumb on her pulse. An enchanting beat.
With my other hand, I trace a line up her inner thigh and cup her between her legs roughly, but not too rough.
She whimpers.
“Look at that, your pussy doesn’t seem to mind. So wet for me already. What turned you on, Brook? My little caveman performance downstairs, or my hand on your throat earlier?”
Her pulse speeds up. “Both.” The word is strangled. “But your hand more.”
“That’s what I thought.” I kiss her shoulder and then take her ear lobe into my mouth. God, her body responds so nicely. “Let’s start again, baby. I’ll let you come as many times as I please. Is that clear?” I repeat.
I continue planting kisses down her exposed back. Fucking dress. I’m going to burn it tomorrow.
“Yes,” she rasps.
“Good girl.”
Even through her panties, and with her legs practically together, I can feel her core clench. Good to know that praise works.
I continue taking my time, kissing every exposed inch of her skin, slowly cataloging every reaction.
I enjoy coming like any other man, but this is my favorite part. Discovering a woman’s body.
But with Brook it’s somehow different. It’s like I finally got the keys to the forbidden room. After years of yearning, discovering its every treasure now suddenly becomes my life’s mission.
For the next part of the conversation, I need to entice her a bit. I’m a manipulative bastard, but there is no way I can stop at this stage, so here it goes.
I slide my fingers under her panties and massage her clit gently.
She moans, and while completely at my mercy, she still manages to push against me, seeking more friction. God, this is going to be fun.
“You relinquish control. I’m in charge completely.”
She stiffens at this, but I don’t stop with my hand between her folds, or with my mouth on her skin.
“Do you need to think about it, Tokyo?” Yep, pulling out all the stops here.
“Okay,” she whispers, pushing into my hand. I smile against her skin, but falter after she adds, “I trust you.”
Fuck. She shouldn’t. She really shouldn’t.
Not that I plan to hurt her, but I don’t want the responsibility.
With her track record of loser boyfriends, she probably trusts easily.
In contrast with all my thoughts, my chest swells at her words. I’m a goner when it comes to Brooklyn Lowe, and it shouldn’t surprise me after all these years.
“Okay, you need a safe word.” I swipe my fingers through her folds and tease the opening.
She turns her head and looks at me over her shoulder, frowning. “Why do I need a safe word? Will you hurt me?”
“Not unless you want me to.” She shudders at that. “But sometimes there is a very thin line between pleasure and pain. And sometimes even pleasure can be too much. My boundaries are probably wider than yours. We will figure it out together.”
“Okay.” She shivers in my arms.
“I love giving pleasure, but when it becomes too much, you might beg me to stop. I won’t, because I have to take care of you. It’s my kink. You need a safe word, so I know you really mean it.”
She doesn’t say anything, and I remove my hands, straightening up. She whimpers and bangs her head gently against the table.
I wait. I’m in no hurry. This is happening, but she needs to get on the same page as me.
Finally, she pushes off the table and faces me. “I have chased an orgasm all my adult life. If you get me where you got me the last time, I consider it a win. I won’t be begging you to stop.”
“Oh, I’m going to get you there, but it won’t be a minor wave like before. It’ll be a full tsunami, and you’ll beg me to stop at some point.”
“You’re awfully confident. I can fake it really well. Years of practice.”
She lifts her chin. Stalling.
“Safe word, Brook. Now.”
She makes that cute exasperated face like she’s annoyed with me. “Bossy—” But she shuts up, remembering that she agreed I’m in charge. “Skittles.”
I chuckle. “Good girl. Now let’s get you out of this hideous dress.”
“I love this dress. It makes me feel sexy.” She shimmies her hips, smiling.
“Baby, tonight was the last time you wore that dress.”
“Jesus. Why do you hate it so much?”
“I hate every fucker who drools over you in this fucking excuse for a dress.” I hook my hands in her cleavage and pull her to me. “You’re being very disobedient, Brook.”
I dip to grip the hem and kiss her neck while I yank it up, but she clamps my wrist. “Skittles.”
I lean back, staring at her. Is she joking? This woman will be the death of me. “Skittles?”
She bites her cuticle. I don’t even think she realizes it. I cross my arms over my chest. Fuck this.
“It’s more a pause, not a stop. God knows, I want you to continue, to be in charge, but could I maybe keep the dress?”
“I’m not fucking you in that dress.” And at this rate, I might not fuck her at all.
She looks nervous, though. Is it about the sex?
I’ve been so focused on getting her where I wanted, needed, her, that I didn’t even consider that for her the two of us finally getting together is probably a big deal.
Fuck, it is a big deal. I just choose to ignore that fact.
“I’ll change?”
God, I hate when she loses her usual gumption. “You don’t need to be shy to get naked with me. I saw your cunt already.”
She huffs, “You’re such an a—”
“Asshole?” I smirk. “Okay. Do you have a silk camisole? Something to show some skin?”
She nods, looking at me curiously.
“Put it on. Keep the heels. No panties.”
Brook shudders visibly, and it remedies the situation.
I want her to shudder.
To fall apart.
To unravel.