Page 49 of Love Lessons
Maybe I’m about to learn all the secrets.
Maybe this time sex won’t be a huge disappointment.
“There’s a condom in the bedside table,” I practically slur.
“Patience, contessa.” He moves his hungry mouth to my neck, and when he sucks gently on my skin, it feels indescribably sexy.
And then he slides his thumbright over my cliton the first try, and I practically arch off the bed in glee. “Ohhh,” I moan.
“Yes, honey.” He slides his fingers through my slickness and groans. “So wet for me.”
His fingers aremagic. He kisses his way across the tops of my breasts, all the while teasing my core with a wicked hand. I clench my thighs and whimper, because it’s so good.
I’m so turned on that I almost don’t notice what he’s doing until it’s too late—he’s kissing his way down my camisole to my hips and teasing my opening with one thick finger. Then he spreads my legs and drops his mouth to the inside of my thigh.
Uh-oh.
Oh no.
Up till now I’d gotten happily carried away. Everything was glorious. Actually, it still is. He drops teasing kisses all over the juncture of my hip and leg and down my thigh… It’slovely.
But I’m still me, and as soon as his lovely mouth drops down a little farther, hitting its mark, I know I’m in trouble. I’d forgotten that this is how it all goes bad. Every time.
I fight the good fight, though. I relax against the bed and try to enjoy myself. He’s so good at this, and I’m not completely immune to pleasure.
Yet it doesn’t matter. I start to tense up. I grip the sheets with both hands, but not in excitement. It’s the white-knuckled grip of anxiety. Because I can’t give Ian the feedback that the male ego craves. Unless I fake it. And in a few minutes, he’s going to get tired of trying to get all the right responses.
Any second now, probably.
I grit my teeth.
“Baby,” he says quietly. As I glance down, he rests his chin on my thigh. “Contessa, if this isn’t your favorite thing, you can just tell me. I won’t be offended.”
“It’s… I like it, I swear. But I won’t be able to… I can’t…” I’m scrambling to sit up now. This is ridiculous. What was I even thinking?
“Hey, it’s fine,” he says calmly. “So what? We’ll do something else. I’mverycreative.” He gives me a dirty wink.
“But it doesn’t matter.” I try to untangle my legs from the bed so I can leave. “Nothing works. You can say it doesn’t matter, but eventually you’ll get annoyed. So I’ll fake it. But apparently, I’m not a great actor, so…” I free myself and aim my feet for the floor.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he says, lunging his body in my direction, wrapping one strapping arm around my waist like a big hook. “Hold on there, baby. Don’t run away when I’m trying to talk to you. Is that nice?”
I immediately stop fighting. Because he’s right. It isn’t very nice.
“That’s better.” Ian tugs down the covers and then scoops me back onto the sheets. He covers us both up and then rolls to his side, facing me. “All right. Now explain this problem to your tutor.”
Oh boy. I really don’t want to, but I have nobody to blame for this embarrassing moment but myself. “I just can’t…finish. Ever. It’s probably one of the reasons I’m bad in bed. I get frustrated with myself. And it’s hard to be a fun time when you’re frustrated.”
“You haven’tever?” His expression turns to horror.
“Well, not with anyone else in the room.” My face is on fire now. I’ve reached my embarrassment quota for the year, so I’m done here. I roll toward the edge of the bed, and a much-needed escape.
SIXTEEN
You’re Weirdly Good at This
IAN
I easily catchVera the second time she tries to give me the slip. With an arm around her waist, I slide her back across the sheets, bringing her to rest against my body. “Damn, girl. Just give me a second to think. Where were you going, anyway? You’re naked, and this is your bed.”
