Summon Lyght(51)

Her face froze in confusion. She clearly had not anticipated being required to answer her own question.

He should help her. Despite the impulse to give gentle guidance, his annoyance with her businesslike approach to their lovemaking insisted on showing itself. "Perhaps doggie style? Something more daring? No? How about missionary? Yes, I'm sure that is the perfect position for you. Miya the missionary, storming the sexual jungle with a guerilla vagina, determined to conquer the enemy penis."

Her jaw dropped and Lesedi immediately regretted the insult. "What is your problem?"

Frustration won out over his guilt. "Do you really expect me to make love to you this way? Like a military operation or some distasteful business deal? I am forced to admit, even as much as I want you, it is a bit difficult to attain the necessary… erection." Lie. Even as he scolded, his hard-on strained against his zipper.

Her eyes widened with the dramatic shrug of her shoulders. "This way? What do you want from me? This is my first time, if you're expecting some raving performance from me, you're way out of luck and better head on back to Africa."

"Performance!" Lesedi bolted up from the bed and paced, cock pushing uncomfortably against his waistband, his glare trained on her. "Performance?" Everything about her drove him closer to the edge of passion, some new horizon beyond which he had never ventured.

"Am I using the wrong term?" A barely audible note of smallness in her tone betrayed her true confusion.

Lesedi forced his voice to soften, just a little. "Very much so." A small seed of guilt pricked at his conscience and reminded him of her virginity.

She shot to her feet. "Well excuse me! I must have been absent the day they dished out sexual vocabulary. I suppose you'd be oh so fluent though."

He paused and narrowed his gaze. She met it with her own determined one. He wanted to make a suitably caustic retort, but he could not deny the fact that he was very well-spoken in every aspect of sex. He went back to pacing, focusing on the problem. Her. "I may be fluent in sex, but I sure as hell do not plan on just assuming a position and fucking you like an animal with a contract to fulfill." He paused and wagged his index finger with a definitive no. "I did not. Sign up for that."

By her incredulous gasp, she had misconstrued his words. Again. But which ones? He could only wait with bated breath for some clue.

Her retaliation began with a furious nod that swung her loose hair in a distracting cloud around her face. As if she sensed the direction of his thoughts, she furiously pushed the offending hair back, pulling the whole mass into one clump. "So you are fluent in sex." She nodded at him for many seconds then plopped back on the bed. "Aren't I just out of my league? How many women have you fucked, exactly? Or can you even remember?" Something like despair crept into her voice, just for a moment, quickly replaced by fury. "Maybe you're married. Oh!" She gasped and widened her eyes. "Maybe you have many wives Mr. African…Harem Husband. Get the knife ready to jab another notch in your fucking belt." She quoted the air with her fingers.

Lesedi stared at her slack jawed, unable to regain his composure. Toward the end of her tirade, he'd realized it. She was jealous. His broad grin fought through, impossible to repress no matter how angry it would make her.

Her gaze narrowed and a wave of palpable fury rolled from her. "What is so fucking…funny?"

His cock throbbed again, sensing the passion coursing through her. It thrust toward her with unashamed need before he could regain control. Damn. He had meant to hide how glad her jealousy made him.

Once again, she misread him. Her gaze suddenly lowered to his waist and she gasped and pointed. "Oh so now you're ready to get busy?"

Yes. Yes he was. Her jealousy of the women he'd been with provided a major turn on for him. Her possessiveness aroused him wildly, driving him to possess in return. She was possessive of him. Odd, given his history with women, but nonetheless arousing. He wanted Miya jealous, needed her possessive. Given the flush in her cheeks and the rapid rise and fall of her breasts, his arousal did more than just anger her.

In reaction to the realization, Lesedi's hand dropped to cup his cock.

Her tongue swept over her lower lip in nervous reaction to his boldness. No. Hungry. She was hungry. For him. And afraid at the same time. The entire performance was no more than a tough act. All her instincts insisted on hiding fear and innocence. Those qualities turned a woman into prey for the likes of that asshole at the diner.

She needed direction, as his earlier impulse suggested. Guidance. A sure hand.

Mmm. Maybe firm and sure. His cock jumped at the overwhelming impulse to dominate her. Bring her to her knees in wanton desire. Begging.