Tentatively I walked toward him. His eyes were dark and intense as they watched me. When I reached him, I sank to my knees, until my mouth was a whisper away from his dick.
“Ah fuck, Tessa …”
“Tell me what to do.”
He cupped my chin in his hand turning my face up to look at him. “You don’t have to do this. Shouldn’t do this.”
I pulled my head away and sat back on my heels, hating how he always pushed me away. “Stop putting this on me. I might not be experienced, but I know my own feelings and desires.” I stood. “If you don’t want this, just say so instead of acting like you’re protecting me. It’s insulting.”
I started to walk away, not sure where I’d go. His hand took my arm to stop me. “I do want this. It should be obvious,” he said with a nod toward his dick.
“It wants this, you don’t. And look, Dylan, it’s okay. I get it. You’re focused on Maisie, so you probably haven’t had a lot of time for liaisons and the ones you’ve had have been with Veronica.”
His eyes darkened.
“I know I’m not her—”
“What the hell does that mean?” he reached down and pulled up his pants.
“It means I’m not Veronica. I’m not as beautiful or sexy—”
“Bullshit. Maybe I’m sending mixed messages here, but you’re not listening to me either. I’ve been clear that you’re the one starring in my early morning fantasies. I think you’re more beautiful than Veronica inside and out. I’m trying to be respectful to you here.”
“And yet all you do is make me feel inept and silly.” I tugged away again.
“You want me to fuck you, is that it?” He turned away, cursing himself as if he was upset at his outburst.
“No. Not anymore.” I made my way to the bedroom, vowing to not let my hormones and fairy tale fantasies get the best of me anymore when it came to Dylan.
A few minutes later, I was in a nightgown I bought thinking a wife didn’t wear cotton knit shorts and a t-shirt to bed. The plain sea-foam green sleeveless nightie wasn’t sexy, because he’d been clear he wasn’t going to include marital relations in this marriage. I should have remembered that before I dropped my knees to worship his dick.
I brushed my teeth and when I emerged from the bathroom, Dylan was leaning against the door jamb of the bedroom.
“The problem is me,” he admitted. “I do want you, Tessa. I think you’re an amazing woman. Smart, sweet, sexy … perfect.”
I wished I could believe him.
“I don’t deserve you. You should give yourself to the man who can give you more than just an orgasm. I’m afraid I’ll end up hurting you, not physically, but emotionally.”
“I understand.” I felt like I should appreciate what he was trying to do, except that it still felt like he was dismissing my feelings and my strength. He was hurting me now, but I decided not to mention that. I just wanted to end the conversation and go to bed.
“I’ve already hurt you, though, haven’t I?”
“Maybe we should just let it go, Dylan. I get it. This is a fake marriage. We’re just friends. Let’s leave it at that.” I climbed onto the bed, wishing I could enjoy the amazing softness of the sheets. I picked up the little piece of chocolate set there by room service and opened the wrapper. Next best thing after sex was chocolate, right?
He watched me from the doorway for a minute and then he entered the room. He stopped for a moment at the end of the bed and stared at me.
Then he climbed onto the bed, crawling to my legs, he ran a hand up my thigh. “I don’t want to let it go. I feel like I should say no to you, but God help me Tessa, I want you.” He looked down at his hands as they caressed my thighs.
I wanted to stay annoyed, but his touch was sending a zap of erotic energy straight to my core.
“I didn’t do it right the first time,” he said quietly, as he pushed my nightgown up to expose my panties. At least those were sexy, or at least pretty. Not the plain old white cotton hipsters I usually wore.
His gaze lifted to my face. “I want to pleasure you. I want to use my hands and mouth and send you to heaven. Will you let me?”
Of course, I’d let him. I was already one touch away from combusting. “Are you going to stop in the middle of it?”
His lips quirked upwards. “No. This is about me making you feel good.” His finger drew a line down the center of my panties. “You’re wet, Tessa. I want to taste you there. Can I?”
To be honest, I couldn’t imagine a guy wanting to put his mouth on that part of a woman’s body, although I knew it was something many couples did. But my body was coiled so tight it was humming, and whatever he wanted to do to me was okay by me.
I nodded, because I couldn’t form words.
His fingers hooked into my panties, pulling them down. His eyes flashed as he looked at my pussy. “Looks delicious.” He tossed my panties over his shoulder. Then his hands slid over my hips, pushing my nightgown up to expose my breasts.
“I want to see your luscious tits.” His voice was rough, like sandpaper.
I pulled my nightgown over my head and tossed it aside.
He knelt between my legs, his gaze raking over my body. “Don’t ever compare yourself to Veronica again, Tessa.” He looked to my face and then crawled until he was on his hands and knees over me. “Promise me.”
I nodded.
He dipped his head, brushing his lips over mine and groaning as he did. “Don’t do anything but feel, okay?” He whispered as his lips trailed along
