The Gentleman Mentor(45)
Brielle looks contemplative, and I wonder when she’s going to grace me with the thoughts lurking in her mind. It only takes a few more sips from her cocktail. “What’s the end game here?”
“The end game?” Hell, now I’m really curious.
She swirls the drink in her glass. “I’m just curious. It’s obvious you have a well-paying job. You wear suits to work and can afford places like this,” she gestures to the posh hotel suite, “and I know you’re not looking to find a companion. So why do it?”
“We covered this before, Brielle. I like instructing. I like taking a woman where she’s never dared to go before. I like being the one to open her eyes to something more.”
She chews on her lip, unsatisfied with my response. “Do you think you’ll ever give it up?”
Her questions have gotten too personal. I could put a stop to this right now with one barked command, but I won’t. She wants to poke around in my head, but I doubt she’ll like what she finds. “Not planning on it.”
“So even if you found the perfect sub, someone you were compatible with inside and outside the bedroom, you wouldn’t stop seeing clients?”
That would take a huge leap of faith on my part, and trust is something I have a hard time with, given my past. The wounds are still fresh. Raw. I can’t bare myself that completely with her, not while she’s still hung up on Kirby.
Rising to my feet, I head to the door to retrieve the bag. “Go into the bedroom, take off your coat, and wait for me.”
Wordlessly, she obeys, her soft footfalls on the carpet fading down the hall.
I grab a few ice cubes from the bar before heading that way myself. When I step into the bedroom, she’s standing near the dresser in the large room, running her fingers along the crystal vase that rests there. The curve of her ass in the G-string has my cock swelling.
I stand behind her and lower my mouth to her ear. “Turn around and let me see you.”
She turns slowly, letting me appreciate the full effect of her curves filling out the delicate lingerie.
Jesus. Fuck. I slip one of the ice cubes into her mouth. “Suck.”
Her eyes widen and zero in on mine. I love it how my simplest command surprises her. Her lips close around the ice, and her eyes flutter closed. With the other ice cube, I circle her belly button, and her stomach jumps in surprise.
“You’re mine tonight. My plaything. To do with what I wish. Do you understand?”
She nods slowly.
“Answer me, pet.”
“Yes, sir.”
Her skin breaks out in chill bumps as I move the ice over to her hip bone, down toward her panties. She sucks in a breath and holds it. I drop to my knees, my mouth following the path of dissolving ice, my tongue licking away the sting of cold.
I tease her with my mouth over the front of her panties until she’s writhing to get closer. It’s not clear which of us I’m teasing, though, because I want nothing more than to taste her sweet pussy.
We’re still standing in front of the mirror, and I turn her to face it. Her chest is flushed, and her eyes are clouded with arousal. If tonight is really meant to be our last lesson, the sentimental side of me that so rarely comes out needs to make sure she’s ready.
“I want you to look at yourself and tell me what you see,” I whisper near her ear, letting my lips brush her skin.
She fidgets, placing her hands over her belly as if inspecting herself in the mirror is too invasive despite all the things we’ve shared.
After a moment, her eyes lift to mine and she smiles. “I see a handsome man who makes me feel desirable.”
Shaking my head, I correct her. “No, tell me what you see when you look at you.”
A quiet stillness settles around us as she studies herself in the mirror. Her hair is long and glossy, her breasts are small but pert, and the juncture between her thighs is covered in white lace, but my hope is that she knows her worth beyond those physical traits.
“I don’t know how to do this. I’m sorry.” With a defeated tone, she dips her head, tucking her chin toward her chest.
Fuck. I didn’t mean to make her feel awkward and self-conscious. But women don’t come with a manual, and so sometimes even I stumble.
“Can I tell you what I see?”
Meeting my reflection in the mirror, she nods.
“I see a beautiful, smart woman who had the courage to pursue her goals, who has shown strength in each act of submission.” My knuckles trace her sides, ghosting over her ribs. “I see someone fierce and loyal and brave. Someone who is willing to sacrifice her comfort zone in the search for love. Someone who’s giving and kind in the bedroom.” My lips linger at the side of her neck. “You’re perfection, peach.” In every way.