The Gentleman Mentor(46)

Tears glitter in her eyes, and she chews on her lip as she blinks them away. I’m not sure why, but I wanted her to know how I feel about her. Even if I could take it back, I wouldn’t.

Needing to change the mood, I release her. “Lie down on the bed.”

She nods and quickly heads to the large bed, depositing herself on one side of it.

I remove the candle from inside my bag and light it on the dresser. It casts a subtle glow into the room, giving everything a dreamy, romantic feel. The rich, warm fragrance fills the air. This candle, which was meant to set the scene and relax her, has become so much more. It’s now a scent I’ll always associate just with Brielle.

Slowly and methodically, I remove her bra and panties. I gaze down at her, wanting to commit to memory her flawless skin, the rise and fall of her chest, the way her nipples pebble in anticipation of my mouth.

Her eyes are on mine. “How do you want me?”

I shake my head. “Just like this.” I pull my shirt off over my head and let my pants and boxers fall to the floor before joining her on the bed again. Moving my body over hers, I kiss her deeply, savoring each lick of her tongue like I’m a dying man enjoying his last meal.

When she reaches down and takes me in her hand, I don’t stop her. Her fist curls around me, and I grunt.

“Inside me, please,” she breathes against my mouth.

When I reach between us and feel that she’s soaked, I align myself with her. “Be still, okay?”

She nods her consent.

I lift her legs so her pelvis is tilted up and place her ankles on my shoulders. “I want you to feel me tomorrow.”

Brielle, ever trusting, blinks up at me.

“Eyes down here, pretty girl. Watch.” With my thumb, I part her folds and push the head of my cock just inside. Her pussy is squeezing me already, and I harden even more. I make sure her eyes are still on the action and when I see that they are, I push forward again. Two more inches of me slip inside. Fuck.

She whimpers, her voice throaty and full of need. “More, Hale. Harder,” she begs.

She wants me to slam home and fuck her until she comes. But tonight is about control.

“Patience,” I growl, pushing inside her warmth until I’m halfway buried.

Sharp fingernails dig into my ass cheeks, and she throws her head back against the pillow.

“Eyes, sweetheart,” I remind her. “Keep them on my cock. I want you to watch how I fuck you.” The truth is I want to ruin her for all other men. I want her to understand my cock is the only one that can make her feel this way.

She opens her eyes and her gaze drifts from mine, down my chest and abs to settle on my throbbing erection. Good girl.

Thrusting forward, I move slowly, allowing her body to stretch to accommodate me. I give her every last inch of me, and once I’m buried within the snug heat of her, I hiss out a breath.

We move together, our bodies growing slick with sweat, my hands digging into her hips as I pull her closer. Her inner muscles tighten and tremble, and I lean down near her ear, encouraging her to let go, slowing my movements to let her ride out the wave of pleasure her orgasm provides.

I can’t hold back any longer. I thrust hard, overcome with pleasure at the way her tight body squeezes mine. My release hits me hard and fast, obliterating all my control. I tug Brielle close, holding her tightly as our heartbeats slam together.

Eventually, I rise from the bed, my body missing her warmth beside me. I go to the bathroom to get her a warm cloth, and when I return, I find her curled up in the center of the bed, her cheeks damp with tears.

“Brielle?” My chest tightens and a feeling of dread washes over me. I join her on the bed and lift her onto my lap. “Tell me why you’re crying,” I whisper near her temple. I want to soothe her fears, make everything better, but I know I can’t.

“This was never supposed to happen,” she sobs. “You warned me, but it’s just so overwhelming.”

I pull her close, planting a kiss on her forehead. “I know, pet, I know. It will pass. I told you, it’s just the rush of endorphins wreaking havoc on your system.” I hate myself for saying these words. I’m falling in love with her, and I want all of these emotions overwhelming her to be just for me. But she nods, accepting my explanation.

I hold her while she cries and finally, once she’s quiet, we lay in the huge hotel bed, curled together as we watch an old black-and-white movie.

“Are you going to see Kirby tomorrow?” I whisper. I’m not sure why, but the curiosity is killing me.

“No. I’m working tomorrow.”

I nod, feeling relief and shame mix together. Even if she’s not seeing him tomorrow, I know that soon she’s going to win him over, and it’s a deeply disturbing thought.