“You like things rough,” she said, her tone pensive.
He shifted his hold on her so he could look down at her. “Was I too rough with you? If I was, you just have to tell me.”
She chewed her lip and peeked up at him, some of her trademark blush staining her cheeks. “Well, you doused me with wine and fucked me with the bottle.”
He winced. “I—”
“But I’ve never come that hard in my life. And I’m pretty good at making myself do that.”
His lips snapped shut.
She scooted over and propped herself up on her hand. “I guess I’m just wondering that if that’s Donovan 101, what’s the master class?”
The question sent wariness through him. “What do you mean?”
“How far do those desires go? Like, what do you think about when you’re alone and there’s nothing to censure your fantasies? Is it like your recordings or more than that?”
He frowned. “Marin—”
“Hey, look, I’m asking you personal questions and not getting embarrassed. You should be proud.” She gave him a wry smile. “Plus, you said no judgment for me. I’m offering the same to you. I’m just curious. Not saying I’m willing to go there.”
He sighed and let his head fall back on the pillow. “You’re asking for my dark corner stuff, doctor? Do you charge by the hour?”
She shoved him in the side. “I do. But you couldn’t afford me.”
He stared at the ceiling fan going round and round. He should probably edit himself. He’d already set her off balance. If he told her some of his darker fantasies, he’d probably freak her out for good. But he couldn’t find it in himself to lie to her. “You’re right. I like rough-and-tumble stuff and I like control. Things like giving chase and capturing someone or holding a woman down while I fuck her has a lot of appeal. Enjoying someone fighting back. All with previous consent, of course. Role-play stuff.” He wet his lips, trying to tamp back images of him doing those things with Marin, of crossing those boundaries with her. He cleared his throat. “I think because I have to be so stoic and calm at work that the abandon of that kind of thing calls to me.”
He peered down at her when she didn’t respond, needing to see her reaction. Instead of looking terrified, her forehead was wrinkled in thought. “I can see that. You don’t have to be the nice guy then, the ever-understanding therapist, the blank slate.”
She got it. Of course she did. The woman was an observer of human nature just like he was. “I like what I do, but you’ve seen how it is. You always have to be on. You can’t have bad days or show too much emotion with clients. It can be exhausting.”
“But you liked the rough fantasies before you were a therapist.”
He smirked. “Now you are trying to give me a session, Dr. Rush. I was the smart kid in school. Easy target for bullies until my height shot up in high school. I learned early on that people lose interest when you don’t give them a reaction. I learned not to show my cards to anyone. He who controls his emotions holds all zee power.”
She snorted at his dramatic tone. “And she who blushes loses all the credibility.”
He laughed and gathered her against him again, liking the feel of her nestled in the crook of his arm. “We’re working on that. Soon your therapist face will be impenetrable.”
“Then I guess I’ll be the one wanting to break free and have wild, kinky sex.” She shifted against him. “Or who knows? Maybe I’m already getting to that point.”
He gave in to the urge to stroke his fingers through her hair. He imagined Marin had spent a lot of her life following very strict plans and putting on a brave face—taking care of her mother, becoming a parent to her younger brother, now trying to be a sex therapist when she hadn’t been afforded time in her life to experience her own sex life. If anyone had earned some wildness it was her.
“You were beautiful tonight, Marin. The way you gave yourself over to it.” He peered down at her, watching his fingers sliding through her dark fine hairs. “You may blush at things at work, but you’re sexy as fuck when you push past that initial anxiety. It’s part of the reason I couldn’t resist taking things beyond what I had planned tonight. I think you might be as filthy and kinky as I am, you just haven’t had the opportunity to indulge in it.”
“Are you calling me a slut who hasn’t lived up to her potential?” she teased.
“If I was, it’d be a compliment.” He rolled to his side, shifting her onto her back so he could look down at her. He traced the smooth skin of her chest along the edge of the partially open robe. “All I’m saying is that you’re inexperienced, but I doubt you’re vanilla. A vanilla woman would’ve balked at what I just told you I fantasized about, been scared or turned off or worried. She would’ve already left.”
She rubbed her lips together. “I didn’t say I was going to volunteer for those things.”
“You didn’t say you wouldn’t.” He gently pushed the robe to the side, exposing the curve of her breast. He drew a finger around her nipple, the tempting bud immediately tightening in response.
She shuddered beneath the gentle attention and closed her eyes. “Maybe it’s because I’m not scared that you’d hurt me. And I know if I said no or stop, you would.”
He watched her, breathing that in. Marin had no idea how big a fucking deal those simple words were. She trusted him—with her body, with her safety, with her pleasure. It was about the biggest gift she could give him. “Thank you. I’m glad you know you’re safe with me. You absolutely are.”
She opened her eyes and let her hand drift downward until she was scraping over his denim-clad thigh. “I want to touch you.”