Whether those qualities stem from her submissive nature or her abusive past, it’s my responsibility as her first real sexual partner to make her aware of the many facets of pleasure. Sex doesn’t have to conform to society’s standards to be sane. It doesn’t have to be slow and tender to be safe. And it doesn’t have to be free of leather cuffs to be consensual.
She’s learning, but how aware is aware enough? This is the hard part.
I want her, and that need is an endless throbbing beat inside me, like an unwritten song banging against my ribcage to get out. Moving her into my home and sleeping beside her while not fucking her is pure torture. But I know she’s aware of my restraint, and I also know how much she appreciates and respects it.
The fact that I ache to truss her up, sink my teeth into her tits, and strangle her gasps isn’t the issue. The very circumstance of her abuse combined with my role as her teacher makes even the gentlest intimacy with her tricky. I could coax her legs open with eloquent words, fuck her sweetly, and she’d let it happen because it’s the only way she knows how to respond to a man.
Well, fuck that. Before I enter her body, she’ll be with me mentally and emotionally, on her terms, making a conscious choice between stopping me or surrendering to me. Unlike this morning when my hand was around her throat. She neither yielded nor used her safe word. Because she doesn’t yet understand what it really means to be willing.
A few minutes later, she returns to the car and latches the seat belt.
I hit the gas, taking in her relaxed posture in the edge of my periphery. “They didn’t wake up?”
“Nope.” A soft smile touches her lips. “Schubert misses me.” She turns in the seat to face me. “Emeric, we need to talk—”
“If this is about moving in, it’s non-negotiable.”
“I have a say in where I live.”
“Not when it comes to your safety.” I veer onto Rampart Street and head toward Le Moyne. “With Shane and Lorenzo in that house, I don’t need to tell you how un-fucking-safe it is to live there.”
She purses her lips into a frown.
I rest my hand on her thigh. “Stop fighting this.”
“I’m your student. If someone figures out I’m living with—”
“I will be arrested, and you will be free and clear of any consequences.”
“Exactly. I don’t want that!”
“The risk is mine.” I infuse my voice with authority, a tone that reminds her I’m the solution for her situation simply because I’m in charge, in control, and it is my purpose, above all else, to keep her safe. “This is my decision, and you will not question me about it again.”
As I slow at a stoplight, she unlatches her seat belt and leans over the console.
Her hand makes a familiar sweep through my hair, her eyes smiling up at me. “You’re sort of charming when you get all serious and bossy.” She lowers her chin and deepens her voice. “Like I’m the man, laying down the law, and this is how it’s going to be.”
Cute. I shake my head, fighting back a grin.
She tightens her fingers against my scalp and moves her mouth a hair’s width away. “But I have my own mind and voice, and you’re going to hear it whenever and however I want.”
I stare at her lips, amused and aroused. “I expect nothing less, Miss Westbrook.”
Just as she expects me to shut her down when she questions me.
“Good.” A glimmer flickers in her gaze. “You should also expect that I won’t be giving up on Leopold.”
Of course, she won’t, which means I need to figure out how to make it work.
She slides her fingers to my jaw, cupping my face as she kisses me. No one from Le Moyne would venture into this part of town, so passing motorists can gawk all they want.
I lick her lips and press forward to join our tongues. Just a nuzzling stroke, a suggestive movement, but that’s all it takes. She moans, angling her head for a deeper connection, her chest shifting closer, heaving for air. Christ, her desire is as staggering as my own.
The traffic light is going to change any second. I don’t give a shit. I take over the kiss, gripping her hips and wrenching us together against the console. With my foot firmly pressed on the brake, I give her a thorough teasing with my tongue, stabbing and lashing between her lips, as my hand shifts lower to grab her ass in a bruising grip.
A honk sounds behind us. We pull apart, laughing through heavy breaths like school kids.
I propel the car forward, my attention darting between her and the road. “Every time I see you today, I’m going to think about that kiss.”