Read Fearless for Free Online Page B

I sigh and tip my head back for more as he deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue between my parted lips. He runs the tip of his tongue over my teeth, and I tentatively touch his tongue with mine. Sliding his arms around me, he plunges deeper into my mouth, exploring its depths, and my body responds to the onslaught of sensation. Every nerve in my body feels alive, and when he slowly pulls away I almost fall into him. My eyes are half-closed and my breath is coming faster. His hand moves down to my hips, holding me steady. His authoritative grip is as comforting as it is erotic.
    â€œDo you want me as much I want you?”
    â€œMore, I think,” I say with a strangled laugh.
    â€œThat’s impossible,” he says matter-of-factly. He leisurely trails his hands down the small of my back and over the curve of my ass, gripping the bottom of my cheeks and pressing me to him so I can feel his hard erection. He kisses me again, a long, sensuous kiss that raises me up on my toes.
    I give in to the erotic assault until my stupid brain decides to chime in, reminding me of my many inadequacies in the bedroom. The voice in my head sounds an awful lot like Tim’s, telling me I’m cold in bed, complaining that I’m never willing to try anything new, asking me impatiently if I’ve come yet. Reluctantly I pull away.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” he asks gently. “If you’re not ready for this, it’s okay.”
    â€œIt’s not that,” I say, lowering my gaze.
    He lifts my chin with a finger until I am forced to meet his dark, sensual gaze. “Tell me.”
    Damn the man. It’s nearly impossible not to respond to him when he uses that commanding tone. What’s up with that? I sigh. I might as well be honest. He’ll figure it out soon anyway. Taking a deep breath I confess, “The thing is, I’m not really good at orgasms.”
    â€œIs that so?” he says, running his hands up and down my spine in a way that is making it hard for me to focus.
    â€œUmm, yeah. So I just wanted you to know that, you know, you don’t have to wait for that or spend a lot of time, you know, trying, because it usually doesn’t happen.” Okay, this is embarrassing. I need more alcohol. “I don’t want you to feel pressure to make it happen, or me to feel pressure to, you know…”
    â€œCome?” he prompts huskily, kissing me erotically in the soft hollow behind my ear.
    I blink. Did he really just say that?
    â€œUh, yeah.”
    â€œDuly noted,” he says, nipping my earlobe with his teeth. I can feel my pulse racing.
    â€œOkay, then,” I say, relieved to have that on the table. I don’t think I could bear letting him down by my inability to have an orgasm. And I can’t, and won’t, fake it. Resolutely, I take a deep breath, kick off my sandals and reach for the hem of my dress. His hand stops me.
    â€œDo you remember what you said to me at the restaurant? What you gave me permission to do?”
    I look up at him puzzled, trying to remember. Suddenly, I remember the sushi menu and me casually telling him I’d let him order. What did I say? Oh yeah, that he could take charge. I gulp as the implication sinks in.
    â€œTell me again!” he commands, cupping my chin in his hand and forcing me to look up at him.
    â€œI gave you my permission to take charge,” I say, and I can feel my face flush.
    â€œIf I recall, you gave your permission for the entire evening.”
    â€œUm, technically,” I say weakly.
    â€œDo you trust me?”
    I nod. Oddly enough, I do.
    â€œGood. Then there’s just one thing you have to do tonight. You do exactly what I say, no argument, unless you feel uncomfortable or want me to stop, in which case you say so and I stop. Whether you orgasm or not isn’t your concern. All you have to focus on is doing what I tell you to do. That’s it. Do you understand?”
    My breath