Taming His Tutor(33)

Abbi frowned. Strong like dominant strong? She shook her head. “Scott tried…”

“Tried what?”

“Tying me up once.” She flushed and shifted a little beneath him. But there was no escaping him.

“Didn’t do it for you?” A frown pulled his brows. “He hardly ever made you come, did he?” He read the answer in her silence and growled. “What did you see in the guy?”

Well, Scott had liked her for who she was. Or she’d thought he had. She’d thought he’d seen past her quiet exterior. He’d been delighted when she’d eventually stripped for him and he’d seen her breasts. But then. He’d wanted things she hadn’t wanted.

She’d tried to be more sexually forward with him. She’d wanted things to be amazing between them. But shortly after their first time together—yet long enough after they’d met that she’d thought herself in love with him—he started criticizing her. Picking her apart. Everything about her apart, now that she looked back on it.

She’d worn sexy costumes for him. He made passive-aggressive comments about the way they looked on her. She’d agreed to watch porn with him. He made digs about how she wasn’t doing it like the women on the screen.

She agreed to be tied up. Only it so hadn’t turned her on and Scott said lube was for bad lovers. How had she managed to screw up being tied up when it was the sex play du jour?

She’d wanted their relationship to work. But because her dating experience was so limited, she hadn’t had a healthy frame of reference for what was normal and what wasn’t. What was good, what was bad. And the real reasons for why.

The more Scott accused her of being the problem, the more she believed him.

Sure, now she knew in her head that it hadn’t been all her fault—her chats with Nadia had told her that. But in her heart? There was still that doubt.

She needed certainty. She needed skills.

“Maybe the chemistry was never there to begin with,” she said lamely. Maybe it was that simple?

“You liked it when I restrained you with my hands. When I pinned you down.” Joe regarded her with a gentle smile on his face. “I think you’d like it if I tied you up.”

She clenched her upper thighs together instinctively and shook her head.

He chuckled and thrust his hips forward so she parted for him. She knew he felt her heat. Her dampness. Her arousal. But even though he doubtless knew he could, he didn’t push inside.

“You’ll let me. Maybe lesson number five.” He laughed again at her expression. “It doesn’t have to be handcuffs and ropes, it could be something softer. And I might even try to make you laugh. Maybe with a feather.”

Tickle torture? Abbi clenched her inner muscles again—knew damn well he saw and felt the effect of his words on her.

“Is that what gets guys off?” she asked softly. “Being in control?”

His lashes dropped like curtains in a theater. He didn’t answer for a long moment and when he finally did, it was quietly. “Nothing has turned me on more than you giving in to me, to the pleasure I can give you when you let me.

He paused and she saw him swallow. The smallest of frowns creased his brow before he suddenly looked her in the eye again.

“You want to know you’re a good lover, right? That’s why we’re here.” He cleared his throat, speaking quickly and firmly, like he’d pulled himself back into tutor mode and was about to give her the salient point in the lecture. “The first step in being a good lover is having a good time yourself and letting your partner see it and know it was because of him. So yeah, sometimes guys like to be dominant. And I think a lot of women like to submit in sex. It’s just fantasy. Just fun.”

Seriously? It couldn’t be that easy. “So you’re saying that if I just lie back and let you do whatever, it’ll be good for you?” Because it sure as hell had been good for her.

He laughed, but she felt him harden against her again. “Abbi, I already told you, you don’t just lie back.”

Yeah, well, she wasn’t exactly doing cartwheels from the chandelier.

His expression softened. “There’s all kinds of sex, sweetheart. Sometimes me on top, sometimes you. Lazy, slow, kinky, sweet. We’ll cover it all. But you have to believe what I tell you. And what did I tell you when I was thrusting as hard as I could inside you?”

So. Fucking. Good.

She raised her hand and pressed her palm to his slightly roughened jaw. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Literally.”

Part of her felt like a kitten who’d gotten her first bowl of cream—all pleased and satisfied. But insecurity whispered its way in almost instantly: you have to do better.