The words he utters are ones that I haven’t ever heard spoken to me. My high school boyfriend told me he loved me, but no one other than my mother has ever viewed me as important or vital because I’ve never been that person. I get by fine but I feel forgettable most of the time, so it confuses me that this wealthy, attractive man wants me more than one of the tens of thousands of smarter, prettier women that exist in the city. I’m not going to give voice to these insecurities, though, because I didn’t realize that they even existed before Ian.
Before he came along, I dated. I had sex. But his words make me realize that I’d been missing something. Important and vital. It kind of makes me want to cry. “What aren’t you with a model? Or celebrity or some rich socialite?”
“Rather than you?”
I’ll need to keep my mouth shut to do a better job of hiding my crazy. I bury my face into his chest to hide the burn of embarrassment, but it’s a question I’m dying to know the answer to.
“You’re quite beautiful, Tiny. And it’s not your looks. Anyone can buy those. They can buy a firm body or decent nose. Reshape their lips, install bigger br**sts. But your spirit is what sets you apart. Your devotion to your mother. Your willingness to sacrifice for another. Your quick mind and,” he pauses and slips a hand between my thighs, lightly teasing my pu**y, “I f**king love your body.”
The light touch causes a hitch in my breath and it’s a moment before I can continue. “But you seem to be enjoying the bachelor life, right? I mean, look at this place.” I wave a hand around. “You’re rich and handsome and could be enjoying a different girl every night.”
“Bunny.” He tsks. “I’d appreciate a little respect. I am not and never have been interested in meaningless sex. And plenty of rich men have wives.”
Wives? That’s a word that makes my heart stutter. “So you’re like a serial monogamist?”
“Do you think I’m unable to form a commitment?”
“It’s that you don’t have to commit, right? You can enjoy all the lovely fruit from the tree because if you tire of it, there’s always more orchards to explore.”
He laughs at my stupid analogy. “What about me? Why would you be interested in me rather than some nice young man who has no vendettas and doesn’t require you to engage in subterfuge? I know it’s not about the money for you. Should I be afraid of a wandering eye? I am several years older than you.”
“Really?”
“Didn’t Google me?”
It’s an offhand remark and I know he doesn’t mean anything by it, but the casual question strikes at the core of my insecurities. I don’t Google because I’m not comfortable reading. I’m not smart. Or at least, not book smart and I never will be. For someone like Ian who trades in millions of dollars a day, he must be super smart. Ultimately, that’s what I can’t wrap my head around. Why would someone like Ian be with a dummy like me? “I don’t use the computer much,” I say dully.
Ian abruptly sits up and pulls me onto his lap so that we are facing each other, my knees on either side of his hips. His hardening c**k is between us, looking ready to go again, but he ignores it. Framing my face with his two hands, he looks straight into my eyes. “You’re a bright woman. I admire how fast your brain works. It doesn’t matter to me in the slightest that you have problems reading or writing. That’s not the measure of who you are. Can you even doubt how amazing I find you? You have a real handicap, but you don’t let it slow you down and it doesn’t beat you down either.”
I press my lips together because any minute now I’m going to start crying. A bit of wetness forms at the outsides of my eyes and Ian thumbs it away. “I can see my future in your eyes, Tiny.”
His hands palm my ass and he pulls me flush against his burgeoning cock. “And I want to be inside you for at least fifty percent of that time.”
“Already?”
“We’ve waited a long time for you. Weeks. I’m going to have to f**k you for a good twenty-four hours straight before my c**k is appeased.” He curves one side of his mouth up in a roguish grin.
“Since you put it so elegantly . . .” I tease, high on the words he’s said. I lift my hips so that I can rub against him properly, which has the added benefit of scraping my ni**les against his coarse chest hair.
“Wait a second, don’t you have anything that you want to say to me?” He quirks an eyebrow up.
I hum a few bars of the 1970s song made popular by David Cassidy that my mom loved to sing. I think I love you. Ian looks at me and then when the lyrics come to him, he throws his head backward and lets out a belly shaking laugh.
“One of these days you’ll feel comfortable saying it out loud, but I’ll definitely be changing your ringtone tomorrow.”
With that he tumbles me onto the bed and proceeds to work me over . . . thoroughly. His mouth is heated and demanding, asking for surrender and giving me back power in the same breath.
“Lie back,” I order. I want to be in charge this time.
Ian obliges me and places his hands behind his head, looking like an indolent god. His naked form is beautiful. It’s not just the hardness of his abdomen or the obvious muscles in his chest and arms. It’s the contrasts that make him stand out.
He has physical strength but a tender touch. The dark brown of his hair is set off by lightly tanned skin and a white, even smile. His neck is strong yet elegant. His thighs look powerful yet they’ve cradled me. And his cock? His c**k is the biggest contrast of all.
So smooth and soft yet so firm, with interesting ridges and veins. Leaning over, I lick him from root to tip with the flat of my tongue.
He releases a strangled laugh. “I didn’t wear you out, did I?”
“I’m just getting started.” I grin. I reapply myself, taking his broad head into my mouth and working my tongue against him. Right under his head is a sweet spot, super sensitive, and I tease it until he flinches against me.
There’s something wonderful about having him surround me like this, of breathing in his scent and feeling him swell in my mouth. His control isn’t as easily held onto, as evidenced by the way his fingers grab the rumpled sheets and his thighs quiver from his effort to keep from orgasming.
He wants to rip me off him and plunge inside me but is willing to wait…for now. Crouching on my knees between his legs, I cup his sac in one hand and grasp the base of his c**k with the other. With my mouth, I set a quick pace of swallowing and sucking and gripping him in long, unbroken movements along his length.