Chapter 206 Chapter 206
Chapter 206 Chapter 206
Wynter could blame it on the moonlight or his charm. Or her powerful response to him. Or the wind might have tugged away her resistance, dragging common sense with it.
“Yes.”
“I’ll get us a room.”
Was he afraid she might change her mind if they waited until they returned to Houston?
To her, that was a legitimate concern. An hour, maybe an hour and a half in the car, was a lot of time to rethink her decision.
Thirty minutes later, they were in the suite of one of Galveston’s most luxurious resorts on the top floor, with a room overlooking the Gulf.
Nerves, that had been nowhere to be found earlier, now assailed her. But then he purposefully crossed the room and gathered her close.
His kiss was gentle.
As she met his thrust with a parry of her own, he groaned. That she affected him thrilled her.
He moved a hand between her legs and teased her as he tasted her mouth.
She’d never been more turned on in her life.
On some level, she expected him to stop, but he didn’t. He continued to play with her until she whimpered, silently crying his name.
Her body shook as the climax built.
Oh God.
She had given herself hundreds, perhaps thousands of orgasms, but nothing compared to his confident touch, so much different from her own.
In desperation, she ground herself against him, seeking completion. And he gave it to her.
The friction he created was enough to drive her to orgasm.
Her entire body shaking, she came. Somehow the kiss ended, and he was there to catch her, and he held onto her until her tiny shudders ceased.
Even when she was breathing normally, he kept her close.
“Before we go any farther, we need to talk.”
Because of what they’d shared, she guessed where the conversation would lead. Once she’d had a taste of him, he had to have known she’d want more.
“I’m hoping you have condoms?”
A smile teased his lips.
“I bought a box the night we met.”
“You did?”
“I hadn’t needed them since my divorce.”
Which, she knew, had been at least a couple of years prior. He’d been celibate? Given his stunning good looks and the fact he could have any woman he chose—even without offering anything—the news startled her.
“But you were sure of me?”
“No.”
As he spoke, he massaged her shoulders.
“I was hopeful. There’s a difference. And you know the option of marriage is on the table.”
“Well…”
Thinking while he was touching her was almost impossible.
“You can remove it. I’m not looking for that.”
“Again, I remain eternally hopeful.”
“And persistent.”
He nodded agreement.
“But protection wasn’t the only thing I wanted to discuss.”
“BDSM?”
When he raised an eyebrow, she explained herself.
“It’s on your intake form.”
“It’s a beautiful evening. Let’s have this discussion on the balcony, shall we?”
It might be easier. Even though she’d brought it up, she had no idea where it would go.
Outside, ships dotted the horizon and palm trees swayed in the breeze.
He adjusted the two chairs so that they angled toward each other rather than the water.
Because it was a Monday night in the offseason, it seemed they had a lot of the hotel to themselves.
“What do you know about BDSM?”
“My best friend is in the lifestyle and attends a club.”
A little uncomfortable talking about this, even though it was necessary, she shrugged.
“We’ve talked, and we watched a few movies together.”
“And you have no experience of your own?”
“No.”
She tucked escaped strands of hair behind her ear.
“From what I understand, not everyone is into everything.”
“True. For example, I find it pleasing when my woman does things for me.”
She wasn’t his woman. Not now, not ever.
“I’m not subservient.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. Acts of service are an essential part of any intimate relationship. And it goes both ways.”
Wynter recalled the way he’d bought her both a hot and an iced macchiato. And also his smile when he took the first sip of his Americano. His nod of approval had been its own reward.
“I don’t expect to live BDSM twenty-four seven, but I like to attend clubs, and I enjoy having scenes with my submissive. And I have certain expectations of compliance during them.”
“I’m not sure what that means.”
“A partner who is willing to engage fully with the scene, rather than just going through the motions. Surrender. Like you do when I kiss you. Not fighting, but embracing.”
His voice, deep and gruffly sexy, sent waves of awareness through her.
“I also believe an exquisite amount of pain enhances pleasure.”
“Are you a sadist?”
She wrapped her arms around herself, resting her hands protectively on her shoulders.
“Relax, little one.”
His tone was light.
“I don’t inflict pain for its own sake.”
That was reassuring. Somewhat.
“On the beach, when I squeezed your sweet ass, did it hurt?”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“I mean, yes. But you started gently and then gradually dug in harder.”
“You whimpered.”
She hadn’t.
“And moaned. That told me it was at least somewhat pleasurable.”
Intently he studied her reaction.
“It…”
How the hell could she explain something she wasn’t sure she understood?
“Turned you on?”
“Yes.”
“Communication is the essential key in a successful BDSM relationship. I will always be watching you. Are you smiling or wincing? Are you moving your body toward me, silently asking for more? Or are you tightening your muscles in fear? I will be listening to your words and observing your body language. Your tone reveals a million secrets, even those you’d rather hide. And your breathing reveals your state of mind. Are you relaxed? Scared? And your eyes. Are they filled with terror? Or wide and inviting?”
“All of that.”
“And more. I will focus all my senses on you, your pleasure, your safety.”
Before today, she couldn’t have guessed she’d be having this conversation.
By itself, it was erotic.