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man who’d focused on her pleasure as much as his own. She didn’t seem inclined to talk about it. I understood her need for secrets. Understanding didn’t stop me from wanting to convince her to open up to me, though. It’d been a hell of a long time, at the very least. Maybe she hadn’t ever had a good, positive sexual experience.
    I didn’t know much, but I knew this: her view of sex was skewed, distorted, and I’d be an ass if I didn’t do anything and everything I could to change it.
    Granted, I was an ass, something Babs was all too keen to remind me of every chance he got. It was one of my calling cards, something that guys had come to expect of me. I’d developed a tough, sarcastic exterior, borne of so many years spent with the kinds of knowledge kids should never have. But that didn’t mean I had to be that way with Tori. I’d always been different with my mom than I was with the rest of the world. There wasn’t any good reason I couldn’t be different with Tori, too.
    Her skin smelled like vanilla and tasted like a slice of heaven.
    I kissed the spot right behind her ear before flicking my tongue against it. No reaction. This spot wasn’t one of her erogenous zones, then.
    She lay flat as a board, hardly moving other than the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.
    That meant I needed to work harder.
    I slipped my hands beneath her to unclasp her bra. She lifted herself up on her elbows to help, not that I needed it. She hardly weighed a thing. Her ballerina’s body was slim and lithe. Her breasts were one of the few areas on her body with much cushion, actually. Every part of her was toned and in perfect shape.
    She collapsed back against the mattress as I tugged her bra free.
    I traced a circle around one of those perfect mounds, trailing the tip of my finger in a soft caress. No reaction. “Tori?”
    “Yes?” Her eyes were focused overhead. She didn’t even blink when I said her name.
    “Tell me what you like. What feels good.”
    “I like to make you feel good.”
    Hmm. Not getting anywhere.
    “What makes you come?”
    This time, her gaze flickered to meet mine, and she shook her head. “It’s too hard,” she said, point blank. Like it was a fact. Like there couldn’t possibly be another way. “You come. Don’t worry about make me come. You’re big, strong man. Let me make it good for you.”
    That was just it. I was worried about her. And if I couldn’t make it good for her , there wasn’t a damn thing she’d be able to do to make it good for me.
    “Let me try,” I said. “Give me some hints.”
    She shook her head. “I give you good blow job. Let you do what you want. Anal? Doggy style? Tie me up do pile-driver? Whatever you want. It’s fine. I make you feel good.”
    Even as she said the words, one of her hands was heading south to take hold of my cock. I couldn’t deny it felt amazing when she took hold of me and started pumping, much as it had been pure bliss when she’d taken me into her mouth earlier. But she was missing the point, or maybe she was deliberately trying to avoid the point. In fact, based on the furrow of her brow, I was almost positive it was avoidance.
    I took hold of her arm and lifted it away from my dick, raising it up over her head. Then I pinned it down and looked straight in her eyes. “It’s not hard to make me come. You don’t have to do a damn thing for that to happen, Tori. I’m trying to get you there with me.”
    “No good. Don’t bother.”
    I wasn’t even close to giving up. “When’s the last time you had an orgasm?”
    “Few months? I don’t know.”
    Too fucking long. “How did you get there?”
    The look she gave me was pure exasperation. “Bondage porn. Public exhibition. Tied up, spread-eagle. Fucking machine in pussy and ass, vibe on clit, deep throating big cock, and hot wax on tits. That was after lots of flogging and spanking. Oh, and cane. Cane on soles of my feet. You want to do that? You can do