Page 130 of Beyond the Stroke

There’s silence as I take in Summer’s words. I think I might have stopped breathing.

“I don’t know why I said that.” Her palm presses to her forehead and a soft, nervous laugh bubbles up her throat.

“You’re serious?” I ask.

She nods.

“Not once?”

Summer slowly shakes her head in confirmation.

The anger and disbelief I had when she told me about her ex not wanting her returns.What the actual fuck is wrong with that guy?

When our eyes lock, I see her insecurity reflected to me, but I also see the desire.

“You keep looking at me like that, Wildflower,” I say, my voice low, “I’m going to do something about it.”

She swallows thickly, her eyes never leaving mine as her tongue peeks out to wet her bottom lip.

“I don’t even know if I can. It might take me a while. It’s only been me and Big Dill for years.”

That’s right. Big Dill the pickle vibrator. Lucky bastard.

“But in Charleston when you talked to me while I touched myself, it surprised me.” Her voice is softer now. More vulnerable. “You didn’t even lay a hand on me and I—” She breaks off, her breathing coming harder now. “I came so hard I saw stars.”

I step closer, hand itching to touch her but waiting. “I remember every second of that night.”

She nods. “I want to feel that again.”

“If this is what you want, Summer. If you’re asking me to make you come, then I’ll spend as long as it takes to get you off.”

My words are steady, but my head is spinning with her confession. No other man has had the pleasure of seeing my wife’s face when she comes? Fuck if this night didn’t take an unexpected turn.

My anger at her ex morphs into smugness, and I can’t stop smiling.

“Why are you smiling like that?” she asks.

“I’m going to be the only man to make my wife come.”

Her eyes widen, and I can see uncertainty seeping back in. “I don’t want you to be frustrated if I can’t. If it takes too long.”

I hate that she feels like she’s a burden. It makes me fucking livid.

“Stop acting like you’re a burden, Summer,” I growl. “Pleasuring you is going to be my goddamn privilege.”

But then I realize she never asked me. She never said the words.

“I need you to say it, Wildflower.” I brush her hair behind her shoulder, then drag my fingertips over her collarbone.

“Say what?” she asks.

“What you want me to do.”

She looks like a deer in headlights. Caught between the high beams of desire and self-doubt. My other hand reaches out to take hers, to softly run my thumb over her knuckles before giving it a squeeze. I’m reassuring her this isn’t a test but something I need from her so I can give her what she needs.

Her eyes drop to where our hands are joined, then she takes a step closer until our chests are brushing against each other, her eyes downcast for a moment before she turns to look up at me.

“Rory?” She sighs, her eyes fluttering closed before they blink open again.

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