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“Because that bastard fucking climbed on top of her, pinned her down, and took her virginity against her will. I don’t want to talk about her hang-ups. I want to talk about you.”
“And I’d rather talk about us,” she says calmly. “Tell me your fantasies.”
I blink at her. I’m standing in the middle of her kitchen, hair still wet, shivering, with my pants around my ankles. And she wants to know what I think about when I jack off?
“Nia…” I shake my head. “The sex seems to be pretty fucking awesome without this conversation.”
She raises a brow at me. “Just because Becca never wanted to talk about sex doesn’t mean I don’t. I do. I really do. Don’t filter. Don’t worry that whatever you’re thinking is something she wouldn’t have approved of. I’m willing to try anything once. If I don’t like it, I’ll tell you. But I want to devote the next week to letting you try whatever your heart—and cock—desires and hopefully put a huge smile on your face.” She leans in and places her lips against my ear. “Tell me.”
I shudder. “I’ll never get tired of being on top of you.”
“I’ll never get tired of you being there. But I know there’s more. I’ll bet there’s way more.”
She’s not wrong, and I should be freaked out that she sees me so deeply. Instead, I’m relieved. “I want to fuck you from behind.”
She smiles. “Hmm. And?”
If I’m really going to let my mind go there, I have a lot more to say. “I want to fuck you in the office.”
Her smile turns naughty. Her teeth nip my ear just before she whispers, “That’s one of my favorite fantasies, too. You bending me over your desk and muttering filthy words to me while you smother my mouth with your hand to keep me from screaming out in pleasure.”
I just had an orgasm less than five minutes ago, but her words stiffen my cock. “Yeah, that. Totally that.”
“Keep going.”
“I want to fuck you against a wall. I want to finger your pussy in public, under a table, where you can’t do anything but take the pleasure I give you and figure out how to stifle your cries when I make you come.”
Nia shivers. “Hell, yes. What else?”
Do I dare go on? The rest of my fantasies are filthier, things Becca would never have consented to, no matter how slowly I took them, no matter how much therapy she had. Nia is clearly more open and irritatingly more experienced, but that doesn’t mean she’s willing to go to these dark places with me.
“Evan, you’re thinking, not talking. Lay it on me. Every bit.”
I huff in a breath. She’s serious. My brain races, but I keep coming to the same conclusion: I’m either going to freak her out or light her up.
“All right.” I drag in a bracing breath. Here goes nothing… “Anal?”
“Yeah.” She sounds breathless.
I’m both thrilled and piqued. “You’ve already tried that?”
Nia is silent for a long minute as she regards me with a little furrow between her brows. “I’m a girl who likes to be touched. I don’t have a lot of hang-ups about sex. In my mind, any expression of affection and pleasure between two consenting adults is good. I like to fully enjoy whomever I’m with, doing things I want and trying things he likes, too. So yes.”
She’s not saying anything wrong. Logically, I know that’s the way sex should be—without fears and limits and artificial boundaries. I’ve simply never had that. I’m jealous of her experience, both that it’s been so easy and that she’s had more than me. But I’m the man with her now. She’ll give me her sexual curiosity and passion if I stop fixating on who she’s fucked before. She wants me. I need to embrace that and let the other shit go.
“Bondage?”
Her breath catches. “I’d like to try.”
I let out a breath. Finally, something we can explore together. I’m stupidly relieved that we’ll be on a level playing field for something.
“When?”
She shrugs. “Whenever. Tonight, why don’t we have tea and talk some more and—”
“I want inside you.”
A big smile curls up her lips, and I can’t stop staring at the full, pouty bow and remembering it wrapped around me. “When you look at me like that, there’s no way I can say no.”
