No Strings Attached

Chapter Twenty Two

“Babe, don’t do this to yourself,” he whispered, his face pained as he watched the embarrassment rise over her face, “You’re not ready yet, we have all the time in the world for this ...”

“I want to be everything that you need ... if I don’t do it now, I might never have the courage again. Please Nate!”

“All I need is you,” he came around to her side of the island, looping his arms around her slender waist, and pulling her towards him, “I know you’re mine ... I don’t need that, not right now.”

“I think I do,” she muttered, her eyes trained on the ferocious, stylized dragon tattoo on his chest, “What if we never get back to that? What if I can never be the submissive for you? I couldn’t stand to think that there was something ... missing.”

“What if I can’t be the dominant that you need?” he countered, his hands running over her soft, dark hair, “What if I take to that head space and you freak out on me? If I take you somewhere that you’re not comfortable with? What will we do then? I can’t do it if you’re not ready babe, I couldn’t put you in pain like that!”

“That’s why we have a safe word isn’t it? So that that doesn’t happen?”

“You’ve never used the bloody safe word!” he groaned, his mouth open and tortured against her forehead, his erection unmistakable against her stomach, “And I know I’ve pushed you too far before, and you took it. Please don’t ask me for this, babe, not just yet ...” she saw the convulsive swallow move along the thick muscles in his neck, “I won’t lose you, I need to know that you’re really ready.”

“I’m telling you that I am,” she whispered forcefully, cupping his face in the palms of her hands, “It’s not just about you needing this, it’s me too.”

Pulling back his shoulders, he took a step back from her – shivers running over her skin at the innocent action – she knew just what was coming.

“Turn around,” he ordered quietly – a mask of indifference cloaking his features, he even crossed his arms over his broad chest in false nonchalance. But his hooded gaze was intent upon her – dark and penetrating as he expected his orders complied with.

She braced herself against the cold granite – her body bent so that the pale denim cupped her buttocks enticingly, and the sheer camisole rose up across her midriff. She felt the entire length of him along her back as he stood behind her, his fingers teasing along the front of her thighs through her jeans.

“When I offer you a complete submission,” he drawled softly – his breath blowing across her ear, “I will have your heart. I’m really sorry baby, I should never have asked you to sub for me, I can’t take it. But we will play ...”

She moaned softly as his hands cupped her core through the layers of clothing separating them. She was conscious of his almost completely nude state, and her skin felt as though it was burning to be against his.

“Strip,” he commanded softly – dragging out the syllable, “You’re wearing too many clothes. I’ll be right back.”