“Love, what are you doing exactly?”
I squeak and almost bite my tongue off when that husky drawl reaches me. Trying, in vain, I hit the off button on the tablet he’s given me and stash the thing behind my back—classic guilty move—hoping like hell he didn’t see or hear what I’ve been watching.
Oh great, he’s home earlier than expected, and I still haven’t psyched myself up for whatever he has in store for me.
Don’t get me wrong: after this morning’s sample, I am so on board with sex with Lucian, but I have no idea what to do, and being me, I will definitely do something super embarrassing.
I need some time to think about things, and maybe, you know, Google some stuff. That’s what I’ve been doing while sitting on the stairs avoiding any breakage opportunities: trying to find the courage to surf the net for porn.
I’d decided to do that not less than ten minutes ago, and wouldn’t you know it, the man would catch me watching Z grade porn. Shit.
“Uh…research?”
That sexy grin of his splits his face, and I see the sparkle in his eye as he leans down, lips puckered as if offering me a kiss. Sap that I am, I lean in and close my eyes, wanting his lips on mine in a repeat of this morning’s claiming.
I should know by now, really I should.
He snatches the tablet from behind my back and hits the on button, gaping at me when the sounds of sex and slapping skin echo through the silence.
I don’t quite know what to do with myself as his eyes stretch before winging back to me with such a flabbergasted stare I blush harder and bite my lip guiltily.
“You’re watching porn?”
Hell.
“Uh…I can explain.”
The smarmy smirk is back as he shuts down the bloodcurdling screams coming from the tablet and looks at me, sucking on his lip—in an attempt not to laugh, I’m sure.
“Really? Please do.”
“I-I was…” Crap. “I was trying to figure out how sex works,” I hiss, rising shakily only to stand and fidget beneath his amused stare.
Bastard. Why couldn’t he just have left it alone?
“You don’t need to know a thing besides what I’m going to teach you,” he finally says, eyeing me up and down.
The heat in his eyes makes me blush again, this time with lust, as he focuses his gaze between my legs and sucks at his lip before meeting my eyes.
“You don’t need to look at this shite. All you have to do is ask, and I’ll tell you,” he drawls, coming so close his breath caresses my wet lips. “So ask.”
What!
“Uh, that’s okay. I’ll, uh…”
“No. You’re obviously nervous about this,” he insists, bringing my mortified face back to his. “Ask.”
“I can’t! For goodness’ sake, it’s not something you just…just talk about,” I splutter. “I really don’t know you well enough for that.”
Supercilious, since I’ve made up my mind to sleep with the guy and see where this takes us.
My words make him laugh, a great, booming sound that rattles my bones and holds me captive. I’ve heard that sound once before, so long ago I’d convinced myself it doesn’t really exist. But it does I see now, and I want that sound again almost more than my next breath.
“You’re missish, love, truly. I hadn’t thought to find the only prudish female populating this side of the bloody pond,” he chuckles, bussing my lips through his humor.
I am so not missish—is that even a word? —I’m just not a sex maniac like most girls I know. I prefer for things to be…oh, who am I kidding? I’m a damn virgin with not a damn clue as to what to do with a man like Lucian.
Where I’m soft, this man is hard as granite, and a ruthless dictator to boot. He’s world-wise and used to getting everything his heart desires, the reason that I’d convinced myself that surfing the porn-filled net was my only option, lest I disappoint him in some way.
I don’t know why, but for some ungodly reason the thought of being green and useless in the sack, of being less than what he expects, ties me up in knots.
Stupid, but who am I to know why my brain thinks this way? All I know is that soon, tonight, if that look in his eye is anything to go by, I’m going to be under him.
I know I won’t wake up pure tomorrow morning, and while that thrills me, I’m also terrified.
“Stop laughing at me, numbskull. I hate being laughed at,” I grit out between my teeth.
He chuckles again and takes my hand, leading me to the kitchen, where Maria has left a light lunch—late, since I told her I’m busy.
“Come eat, love. We’ll discuss this tonight after the lad’s in bed. Better yet, I think I’ll show you.”