“Are you sleeping with him?”
I gasp, my hands going still for a second before they begin moving even faster than they were before. “No offense mom, but whether I am or am not sleeping with Judah is none of your business,” I say, refusing to look at her. “I mean, I know you think it is, because I’m sure Harper tells you every time she reaches that stage in her relationships when she’s ready to seal the deal or whatever—but I’m not Harper. What happens between Jude and me is between Jude and me. Not to mention the fact that, based on this conversation, I’m sure you’d think my answer was some sort of poor reflection on
him
and how his
age
plays into him
pressuring
me, or something crazy like that. But you know what, mom? He’s never made me do something I didn’t want to do. He respects me.”
“Okay, okay,” she says soothingly, tentatively wrapping her arm around my shoulders. “I’m sorry, honey. I trust you, I do.” She kisses my temple and I feel myself beginning to relax. “You’ve never been my impulsive child. I know this. So, if you say that what exists between the two of you is completely genuine, then I believe you. Just don’t fault me for being cautious. It’s my job.”
“I know,” I murmur, bringing my eyes to meet hers. “But he’s a good man, mom. He’s not easy to get to know, but
I
know that he’s a good man.”
“Well…” She pauses for what feels like a full minute. I’m anxious about what she might say next, but then she smiles at me and shrugs her shoulders. “Let’s get our good men something to eat, yeah?”
My own smile puts me back at ease and I offer her a nod.
“Good idea.”
After we eat lunch, I convince everyone that we should all head into town so that Judah can look around and play tourist for the afternoon. When we leave, we travel in separate cars, and I take advantage of our alone time, asking Judah what he and my dad talked about. He doesn’t say much. Actually, he says
one
word—
you
. When I ask him what exactly about me they discussed, he said that my dad was just doing what he assumes most dads do. I’m not entirely satisfied with that lackluster answer, but I know that he’s given me as much as he will.
When we arrive downtown and Judah finds a place to park, I stop him before he can get out of the car. It feels imperative that I kiss him—because he is being so great about changing his plans to spend time with my parents and me all day, and because I just
really
want to. I don’t mean to kiss him long, but soon after my lips find his, he takes over. We probably only make-out for five minutes, but it’s long enough to make my lips slightly swollen, my panties a little wet, and his cock erect. When he pulls away from me, he takes my hand and places it over the bulge in his pants.
“You’ll be taking care of this later, sweetheart.”
His words make my stomach flutter and my cheeks heat up in a blush—a blush that remains fully intact until I manage to shake away my lustful thoughts as we approach my waiting parents. Judah offers me his elbow and I cling to his arm for the duration of the afternoon. We wander in and out of almost every shop before we decide we are all hungry enough for dinner. We dine out, Judah covers the bill—against my parents’ protests—and then we part ways.
Our ride home is a quiet one, save the music that Jude plays softly—the background noise to our silence. It’s not uncomfortable, our lack of conversation, but I’m not sure what to make of it, either. I wonder what he’s thinking and what he’s feeling after how we spent our day. I hope whatever my dad said to him hasn’t left him second guessing what we have between us. It did feel like my parents were finally starting to warm up to him after seeing how he is with me. Like I suspected, he wasn’t overly affectionate, but he kept me close or had his eye on me the whole time, like he so often does when we’re out. It’s, of course, one of the things I love about him. It always makes me feel safe and looked after, like I
belong
to him and he would never let anything bad happen to me.
He takes us straight to his house once we’re back in town. I know he heard from his mechanic earlier this afternoon, and my car should be in driving condition by Monday. Seeing as I have no way of getting around until then, unless I go on foot, I have absolutely no objections to staying with Judah for the rest of the weekend. After he pulls into the garage, we both climb out of his vehicle, still not exchanging a word as we enter the house.
I don’t even make it to the end of the narrow hallway before he stops me, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me back tightly against his chest. Suddenly, I’m not at all curious about what he might have been thinking for the duration of our drive. Now, the only thing on my mind is the way my body instantly responds to his.
“Theodora—we’ve done as you’ve wished all day. Now, it’s my turn.”
I nod, melting further into his arms as I lean back against him. “What should we do now?”
He brings his lips to my ear before he answers, his voice both soft and dark—deep and enticing as hell. “I want you to take off all of your clothes. I want you to go upstairs. I want you on your back, laying on the dining room table.”
My eyes widen in surprise. We’ve had sex
at
the dining room table before, but I’ve never been naked and
on top
of it. “Judah, we—”
“If you want my dick inside your pussy tonight, you’ll do what I say. I want you naked. I want you on that table. And I’m not asking.” He circles his tongue around my earlobe before he grazes the cartilage with his teeth. “Go, sweetheart,” he whispers.
I step away from him without another thought, toeing my way out of my shoes right here and now. He’s been inside of me enough for me to know that to question him is to question the pleasure he gives me—and that’s just nonsense. His touch has always made me feel
alive
. A week ago, he told me that he would ruin me for any other man, that he would give me the greatest pleasure I have ever known. He’s not a liar, and I trust him with my body, with my heart—I’m
his
, and he has ruined me. I can’t imagine ever wanting anyone else.
With only a hint of timidity, I shrug out of my puffy vest before unbuttoning and discarding my flannel shirt onto the floor. My bra goes next before I shimmy my way out of my jeans, then my panties. I look at him from over my shoulder, smiling when I find him staring at me with those grey eyes filled with lust. Without a word or a second thought, I follow his instruction, heading for the stairs before I make my way to the dining room, and then stretch out across the sturdy wooden table.
It feels like forever before I hear him climbing the stairs toward me. I turn my head to watch him as he approaches. He’s completely naked, and the sight makes me shiver with desire. It isn’t until he’s almost at the table that I notice the tie he holds in his left hand. I don’t see a condom held between his fingers, which is what I expected, and my curiosity is piqued.
“Do you trust me?” he asks, stopping just beside the table.
“You know I do,” I murmur, looking up at him.
“Hands above your head.”
Obediently, I stretch my arms up over my head, and he takes his silk tie and binds my wrists together. Even though his knot is tight, the fabric is smooth and cool, and it feels refreshing against my skin. When he’s finished tying me up, he leans down and plants a firm kiss against my lips.
“Close your eyes,” he instructs.
I do as I’m told, my body now buzzing with anticipation.
“My rules are simple. You don’t move. You don’t touch. You don’t scream. You just
feel
. Are we clear?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
I leave her on the table and make my way to the refrigerator, opening the freezer before perusing my ice cream choices. I decide on espresso, knowing how much she enjoys the flavor, and then I grab the pint and a spoon before returning to the table.
She looks unbelievably fuckable, her milky, lithe body naked and at my mercy. It’s been a long time since I’ve played with a woman the way I plan on playing with her now. It requires a level of patience and self-control that I usually don’t care to practice. But I’ve been waiting—waiting to unravel her, to unleash her
wild
—to
break her
, my shy girl. Tonight, I want to bring her to the edge and leave her begging for more.
“Judah?” she whispers.
I don’t respond with the sound of my voice; rather, I bend down and press a wet kiss against the inside of her thigh. She gasps, which makes me smile before I lightly bite her flesh. She squirms, and my dick jumps, appreciative of the way her body speaks to me. I kiss her hip, the middle of her stomach, the side of her left breast, the base of her neck. When I kiss the smooth skin under her right arm, she giggles and jerks and I bite her shoulder.
“Don’t. Move.”
She stills instantly, her smile slipping. “Yes, Judah.”
I remove the lid to the ice cream and scoop out a spoonful before I return to her hip. I bite her, hard enough to leave a mark. She whimpers and then gasps when I drop the ice cream on her sensitive flesh. I let it melt for a second before I lick it off of her body. I repeat the sequence of actions just below her belly button, then again just beside her waist, and again along the top swell of both of her breasts. When I stand at full height and look down at her, my dick grows even harder at the sight of my teeth marks all over her body.
I can hear her breathing, her excitement evident in every inhalation. She’s been such a good girl—holding still, just the way I instructed.
“Are you wet, Teddy?” I ask, moving to stand at her feet.
“Yes,” she breathes.
“Does it turn you on when I bite you, sweetheart?”
“
Yes
…”
I set the ice cream aside and slide both of my hands under her knees, bending her legs and spreading her open. With her feet planted on the table and her pussy on full display, I can see just how aroused she is—her pretty, pink flesh swollen and glistening. She’s fucking
dripping
, and I want to shove my bare dick inside of that cunt so badly. I know she’s not ready. Not yet. She wanted to wait until she got tested again, but I sure as fuck will have my way the first chance I get.
I have no intention of fucking her with my cock while she’s on the table. Not tonight. I’ll take her to bed when I’m finished playing with her—when I’ve got her so hot, she doesn’t even know what to do with herself. She thinks she wants me now—that she’s ready for me now—but she has no idea.
I pull up a chair and sit before I drag her body closer to the end of the table so her pussy is right in front of me. I dip my head and breathe in the scent of her arousal. She smells incredible, and I can’t resist having a taste. Lazily, I drag my tongue from just above her ass, all the way up to her clit. She bucks her hips with a moan and I’m quick to slap a hand against her stomach, pressing her down as I bite the inside of her thigh.
“
Theodora,
” I mutter in warning.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry.”
“What are my rules, sweetheart?”
“Don’t move. Don’t touch. Don’t scream,” she replies, her voice airy and desperate. “I’m sorry.”
“Do it again, and there will be consequences.”
“Consequences?” Her voice hitches nervously at the end of the word.
“No cappuccinos for the rest of the month.”
“What?” she gasps, lifting her head to look down at me.
I grin, feeling wickedly victorious. There’s only a week left in the month, but my shy girl loves her espresso. “Don’t move, Teddy. Now lie back and close your eyes.”
She sighs, clearly worried about her ability to follow my rules, and then does as I command. I reach for the melting ice cream again, spooning out a scoop before letting the cold dessert drizzle down her slit. She gasps, her muscles tensing up as she tries to keep herself from moving. I chuckle, filling my mouth with ice cream before sealing my lips around her pussy. She moans just before I begin to move my tongue.
“Oh, Judah,” she whimpers softly.
Hearing my name on her lips is like being in heaven and hell at the same time. I reach for my dick and give it a couple pulls to relieve the ache of longing that has me so damn hard I can barely stand it. I need to be inside my woman—
soon
.