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God, we weren’t going to do this with everything, were we?
I’d never make it.
Would he think my coming in my pants was adorable or weird?
“I…” Swallowing, I reminded myself that I wanted him to touch me and I wanted him to know I wasn’t freaking out too much.
It was just a tiny bit of a freak-out.
He’d never believe I was perfectly relaxed, so I wasn’t going to aim for an unrealistic goal. “I would like you to touch or stroke me over my clothes, and I’m comfortable with the back of my body and the front.”
Well, I was hard enough thatcomfortableprobably wasn’t the right word to use, but I wanted his hands on me, so I wasn’t going to argue with whatever words my brain tossed out.
“That’s good to know.” Dante rewarded me with another firmer kiss. “You were so thorough, I’m going to give you a reward.”
A crazy mix of relief, desire, and worry raced through me as his free hand finally wrapped around me, pinning me against his body. The rush had me feeling lightheaded before his lips even met mine again, and the way he jumped right to fucking me with his tongue had the room spinning around me.
All I could do was whimper and cling to him as I tried to kiss him back, doing my best to show him I wanted to submit to his kiss and not just be a passive partner who took his desire. But when I got lost in his kiss and started to rock against him, grinding my dick against his, he pulled back, pretending to frown.
“Oh, check-in time.” He gave me a soft kiss but didn’t back up as he fucked with me again. “What is your limit on my cock moving against yours? I know you said you didn’t mind us pressing against each other when we’re clothed, but what if we grind against each other? Would that be an acceptable limit?”
I was never going to change the topic again.
If he wanted to discuss limits, we’d discuss limits. There was no amount of embarrassment worth the way he was torturing me and dragging out making me come.
God, I really hoped he was going to forgive me and let me come.
Fuck.
If we’d talked more then I’d know if he liked to use denial as a punishment.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
His lips twitched as he had to have read the frustration on my face. “I just want to make sure I understand your limits and I don’t railroad you into doing something you’re not comfortable with.”
Crashing my face into his shoulder, I ignored his barely audible chuckle and tried to find a reasonable response. “Thank you for being a good Dom and doing your best to take care of me.”
I was a short-sighted idiot.
“Us moving against each other is well within my limits.” I had to fix this and that started with an apology. “I’m sorry I kept changing the subject at dinner when you were trying to understand my limits.”
“Was there not enough privacy?” His tone was too even for me to know if he already knew the answer, so I responded honestly.
“No, Sir. We had plenty of space between us and the next table and the waiter was doing his best not to hover. I was just…I was just short-sighted.” Ugh, I hated this. “If I didn’t want to talk, I should’ve safeworded. You didn’t have enough information to push me, though, so I should’ve been honest about how I was feeling.”
“Nervous.” He knew he was right, so I nodded.
“But that’s not an excuse for changing the subject when it was an important topic…” I had more to say but the words got stuck.
“And?” Dante wrapped both arms around me and held me tight. “Finish your sentence.”
The order seemed to make the lump in my throat smaller, making it easier even though I wasn’t planning on moving from my hiding place anytime soon. “And I shouldn’t have avoided the topic when I knew I wanted to kiss you and to have you touch me again.”
Ugh. Why weren’t Doms mind readers?
