Page 22 of Dichotomy

I shifted again, lying on my side facing away from him as if that would calm my libido.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Alexander asked, his sleep-drenched voice rough and raspy.

“Sorry I woke you,” I said softly, peeking over my shoulder at him.

His sleepy blue eyes blinked slowly, and he shifted an arm around me, pulling me back to him. I sank into his body heat, my body heating in more ways than one. I couldn’t help rocking against him, and he froze. I froze too, mortified.

Good job, Evelyn. You’re molesting the man in his sleep.

“Is there something you need?” He nuzzled my ear as his hand dipped lower. “Was our date not satisfactory?” His hand skimmed my stomach, and my muscles clenched.

“The date was wonderful,” I breathed as his fingers danced across my hipbones.

“Clearly not if you’ve been tossing and turning all night.”

I winced. I didn’t realize he had felt that. I didn’t mean to wake him. “I’m sorry.”

“No need for apologies,” he murmured. “It was my fault for leaving you wanting. I was waiting for you to initiate.”

My cheeks flamed. I struggled with that. Part of it was inexperience with exactly that—I’d never been the initiator—and the other part of it was the words felt like they got stuck in my throat sometimes. Not only with Alexander but with all of them. Sebastian’s body spoke to mine when we were together. It was as if he knew what I needed and wanted before I did. But the one thing I valued most about the other night was how he explained everything—what he wanted and what he needed from me. That was what calmed me enough to really let go. So many times before, I’d let my head get too involved, and now Alexander needed my words in ways I didn’t know how to share.

His thumb ran over my side. “If you want something, you need to ask for it. I won’t do anything without your consent.”

I wiggled back against him. I wanted him to touch me, but asking for it was still hard. I let out a frustrated sigh. “I want you to touch me.”

“I am touching you.” His tone was amused, and when I peeked over my shoulder, a smile played on his lips.

“You know what I mean.”

“Maybe, but I’m not going to decide for you, Evelyn. You have to tell me exactly what you want me to do. Where do you want me to touch you?”

I reached for his hand, moved to my back and guided him between my legs, separating my thighs just enough for him to access where I needed him.

“Words, Evelyn.”

“Here.”

“Not enough.”

“I want you to touch me here. Make me come, Alexander.”

He leaned forward, and his breath feathered across my neck. My hips shifted upward, desperate for his touch.

“How about I give you some options, and you tell me what you want? Multiple choice?”

I nodded, and he nipped the back of my neck.

“Words.”

“Yes. Multiple choice.”

He bit my ear, and I let out a whimper that sounded foreign to me.

“Do you want to come with my fingers or my tongue?”

I closed my eyes. “Your fingers. First.”

“Baby girl, you have to look at me. Now tell me again.”