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Again and again, until she's panting—

Until I'm at the fucking brink—

Then I whisper the words I'm desperate to hear, "Touch yourself."

She lifts her right hand and goes straight to the spot where she needs stimulation. No teasing, no toying, only steady strokes of her index finger against her clit.

Her head rolls back. Her left hand lifts.

I wrap my fingers around her wrist and hold her hand against the couch.

She gasps with a mix of surprise and delight. She wants to be under my control. She wants to be mine.

And, fuck, I want her to be mine.

I grip her a little tighter; I bite her a little harder; I toy a little rougher.

She melts into me, groaning into the space as she rubs herself.

Again and again.

Then she's there, tugging at the leather, groaning my name as she comes.

It's the best sound I've heard.

I need it again.

I need it forever.

I need it now.

But this is a test of my restraint too.

I wait for her to catch her breath, then I release her arm, right her dress, help her to her feet.

She turns around, so we're eye to eye. "Is that… all?"

"Was it not enough?"

"Nothing would be enough."

Fuck, how does she know the perfect thing to say? "For tonight."

She nods with understanding. "I should probably go back to my friend."

"I don't want you dancing with someone else."

"It's just dancing."

"What if I was dancing with someone?"

"I wouldn't like it."

"This is a relationship," I say. "We both have terms."

"That's fair… because it's sexual." She bends to pick up her panties.

I take them. Slip them into my pocket.

Her chest heaves with her inhale. "You should ask too."

"I don't ask."

"Here, maybe. But elsewhere, you should ask."

"May I keep your underwear?"

"Yes." Her eyes meet mine. "I like you, Max. I like this. I understand what it is and I want that. But I have three brothers. I don't need another one."

"I'm going to protect you."

"As a… fuck buddy?"

Not exactly. "You're asking me to teach you, to introduce you to this type of play?"

She nods.

"I'm going to protect you here. Places like this. With other men, men with bad intentions."

"Or women."

Does she sleep with women too? "With anyone."

"As a…"

"Submissive."

The word makes her cheeks flush. "Is it official?"

"Do you want to sign a contract?"

"Do you have one made up?"

"I can."

"I'll think about it." She gathers her purse. "I guess I'll go then…"

"I'll call a car."

"I mean it, Max. I have three brothers."

"As your partner, I'm making sure you get home okay. It's not negotiable." It's not exactly ace aftercare, but it's something. I'm rusty. It's been too long.

"I'm here with someone."

"Your date?" That was a real story?

"A friend."

"We can say goodbye to your friend together. Or you can text after I put you in a car. Your choice."

"I'll text her." My relief must be obvious, because she laughs. "I could be sleeping with her."

"Are you?"

"No. But I could."

"Do you sleep with women?"

"Not yet." She smiles, daring me to respond with jealousy. Or maybe with some idiotic girl on girl is hot frat boy shit.

"No one else while we're together."

"I understand," she says.

"It's been a while for me. I can send a recent test."

"How long?"

"A few months. I was with someone, but we were… growing apart."

"A girlfriend?"

"Yes."

"A serious one?"

"Three years."

She presses her lips together. "I haven't been with anyone since we started talking. But right before that… I slept with my ex. We were safe, but I can get a recent test."

"Are you on birth control?"

"The pill."

"If this is a long-term arrangement, we can take steps."

"How long term?"

"Until I leave."

"When do you leave?"

I don't know, but I know the plan. "After the semester."

"That's only a few weeks."

"Six weeks." It doesn't sound like enough. I want an eternity with her. But it's what we have. "We can try without a condom. If you're comfortable."

"I'm comfortable." She presses her lips together. "If it's safe."

"You can change your mind at any point," I say. "About this. Or anything else."

"Just say cranberry?"

"Or 'no.' Or 'I'm not sure.' Whatever fits the situation."

"But I won't talk you out of walking me out?"

"It's one of my terms," I say. "Making sure you get home safe."

"You have a lot of terms."

"Is that a problem?"

"No. Just not what you project. It's an interesting contrast." She offers her hand, the left. "I need to get my coat."

I take her hand, lead her downstairs, to the coat check, then outside.

The air is cold, freezing, but it's not enough to cool my temperature.

I need to put her in a car now, before I give in to my desire to invite myself to go home with her.

I hail the cab across the street.

"A cab, really? That's so old school." She laughs and follows me across the street.

I help her into the car. "I won't see you again this weekend."

Her lips curl into a pout. "Oh."


Tags: Crystal Kaswell Billionaire Romance