Page 19 of My Turn Petal
Another gulp of the coffee I made us finds its way past his lips and I turn my attention back to his eyes, the intensity they hold transfers into the rise and fall of his bare chest.
“One last thing,” he claps his hand on his lap, “What is your safeword?”
I take a moment to think about it, scanning the area for an idea, and then I laugh to myself as it hits me.
“Nuggets,” I utter.
He shakes his head sideways, “You are a nugget.”
“I just had to.” I continue to giggle.
A small laugh permeates the air as he replies, “Okay. Then we’re all set.”
“Actually,” I point my index finger to the ceiling, “One last thing.”
“Sure.”
I won’t compromise on what I like and what I need. Even if he is just helping me, it’s part of who I am, a kinky woman. “Are you into primal play?”
He stills immediately, staring at me like I have said the most unpredictable thing, and analyzing my features in the process.
Please say you do.
The wave of his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows hard before he opens his mouth, “This is unexpected, petal.”
I go to explain but he stops me by covering my mouth with his forefinger.
“I am.” He removes his finger and rises to his towering height, “More than you know.” He walks toward the door and turns halfway, “And for the record, I will try anything you’re interested in.”
That makes me smile and blush at the same time like a little girl who’s been told, yes, for something she really wanted.
“Wait.” I stop him and cross the distance separating us.
Theo’s expectant eyes dance in curiosity.
My feet glide along the floor until I stand an inch from him.
“What do you want in return?”
“Nothing.” Theo’s soft voice is gentle but strict.
“Then what’s in it for you?” I pull my brows together, craning my neck just to encounter his gaze. “I can pay you for helping me.”
Tilting his chin down, “I don’t want your money. This isn’t about that.” He’s all commending but his features are soft.
I stay silent, trying to figure out the meaning of this behind his expression.
He grazes his palm in mine, waiting for me to accept the gesture.
“Your company.”
I hold his hand, letting his warmth soothe me.
“Your moans,” he squeezes my hand lightly. “Your screams,” another light squeeze. “Your orgasms.”
I’m entranced by the cycle of his actions, feeling my heavy eyes falling under his spell.
“You opening up for me.”
