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“You have?” I ask, surprised.
“When are you gonna learn that I don’t say shit I don’t mean?”
“Sorry.” I lower my head and slowly raise it up until my eyes meet his. “If it’s any consolation, I’ve been wanting to kiss you like that for a long time, too.”
“Good.”
That’s the only warning I get before he attacks my mouth again. Rogue’s fingers trace the side of my breast, and a moan escapes my throat. Feeling brave, I grind down on his hardening cock. Rogue’s eyes snap open.
“Bedroom?” he asks.
“Down the hall, first door on the right.”
He easily rises from the couch, holding me tight in his arms. My legs wrap around his waist as he hurries to find my room. Once we’re inside, I slide down his body and step away from him, my body shaking with nerves. It’s been so long since the last time I had sex. What if I built up this idea of being with Rogue and it’s a disappointment?
I want this man…but can he give me what I crave?
Rogue must sense my hesitancy because he moves slowly until we’re standing toe to toe.
“I want you,” he admits. “I want you so fucking bad, but I need you to know something about me.”
I hold my breath, waiting for him to continue, and my mind races with possibilities. He’s a biker so I highly doubt he’s about to tell me he’s looking for a relationship. Can I handle a one-night stand?
“I don’t want a one-night stand.”
Fuck.
“Didn’t mean to say that out loud,” I mutter.
“I’m a dom, Skye.” His eyes meet mine, and I get lost in their depths. “And you’re a sub.”
I gasp. “How do you kn?—”
“Little things,” he says matter-of-factly. “You dip your head whenever I speak and hold your eyes downcast. And a couple weeks ago, when I told you never to go on a ladder alone again, what did you say?”
“Yes, sir,” I respond automatically.
“Yes, sir,” he repeats, and his pupils dilate. “You like to be dominated… give up control?”
Without thinking, I dip my chin and fold my hands in front of me. “Only in the bedroom, and only with a man I trust.”
“Do you trust me?”
Even after everything that’s happened tonight, I don’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“Good.” He raises his brow. “Safe word?”
“Red.”
“Red?”
“It’s not very original, I know,” I say. “But red means stop so it works.”
“Red is perfectly fine,” he tells me. “Any hard limits?”
“Not really.”
“None at all?”
