Page 20 of Her Ohio Old Flame

He chuckled low in his throat, then sank his teeth lightly into the fluttering pulse at her neck. She gasped, hips jerking when he ground the thick, unrelenting length of his erection against her clit through their clothes.

“You taste good,” he said, dragging his tongue slowly along the tender skin where her neck met her shoulder. The wet heat of it arrowed straight to her core, and she let out a helpless moan.

She tried to arch into him, to get closer, but his weight pinned her down just enough to remind her she wasn’t in control.

Zane released her wrists and slid his hands down, finding the swell of her breasts through her shirt. He took his time, molding them in his palms, brushing his thumbs over her already tight nipples. Then he shifted lower, tracing the sensitive undersides with teasing fingers that made her body arch despite the way he had her pinned down.

“Zane, please. I…” Asha thrashed her head against the pillow, needing an outlet for the storm inside her—grief, anxiety, tension, all eclipsed now by the roaring fire of lust.

Zane didn’t rush her and simply looked down at her with that unwavering focus she found so compelling. “Do you need to come?”

Her breath caught. Did she? God, yes. Her body was practically vibrating with need. Orgasms were her go-to for stress relief—quick, efficient, reliable. Her fingers never let her down. But this… this wasn’t about merely release.

Because she’d never come with a man before.

She bit her lip, shame flickering in her chest even though she hadn’t done a damn thing wrong.

“Say it, baby,” Zane coaxed. “I need to hear you say it.”

She swallowed hard. “Yes, Zane. Please… please make me come.”

The moment the words left her mouth, a jolt of vulnerability surged through her. She tensed beneath him, half-expecting judgment, mockery, rejection?—

“Hey, hey, hey.” His tone gentled instantly as he cupped her cheek, anchoring her with his warmth. “What’s going on in that clever mind of yours?”

She couldn’t answer. Not right away. The room had dimmed into soft shadows, but she could still discern the shift in his eyes—more brown than green now, warm and open.

“I’m here,” he said quietly. “With you. No pressure. No games. If something’s too much, if you want to slow down or stop—just say the word.”

Stop? Was he serious?

“Darn it, Zane!” she burst out, frustration and emotion tangling in her chest. “What do you want? I just told you I want you to make me come. No, I don’t want to stop!”

He cocked his head. “Your mouth says you want to, but your body is screaming ‘no’, right now.” He nodded at her hands, that were fisted in his shirt.

Asha uncurled her fingers, closed her eyes, and sighed.

He was being open and honest with her, and she could return the favor here, in bed.

Even if you’re less than honest with him about the past, a nasty little voice sniped in the back of her head.

She pushed away the voice, opened her eyes, and made direct eye contact with Zane. “I would love to make love with you. I would enjoy an orgasm, but I don’t have a quick trigger and can’t easily come.”

Zane rolled to the side, propped up on one elbow, and stroked her side with his free hand. He was always touching her in some way, and Asha liked it. Tentatively, she reached out to run her hand over his hip and muscled thigh.

“That’s good information to have, babe. What helps you come?”

She blinked. “No one has ever asked me that.”

“Then your lovers were morons.”

He said it so matter-of-factly, she burst into giggles.

Once she’d calmed from her fit of laughter, Zane was grinning. “Laughter looks good on you.” He stroked her cheek before resuming his long, slow strokes from her shoulder to her hip. “Now, please answer the question.”

“Why do you insist on talking at a moment like this?” She peeked up at him from under her lashes.

A slow smile curved his lips. “For one thing, I’d rather ask for directions than being fumbling around. And I really want us to be on the same page.” He circled her hipbone with his thumb. “Because I want to make you come.” He dipped his head, his breath ghosting over her lips. “And I want you to realize that consent isn’t a one-time thing, babygirl. It’s a conversation.”

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