Page 31 of American King (New Camelot Trilogy 3)
But even so, she understood immediately what I meant. I know now it was because she'd already spent years flirting with kink, but at the time it seemed almost eerie how quickly she grasped my meaning. "Does this have anything to do with you touching Embry's bruise on the train?"
I kept my eyes on the bottle as I admitted the truth. "Yes."
"Were you hard when you did it?"
I didn't answer.
She sat back, that satisfied cat's smile on her face again. "Maxen Colchester. Baby Dominant."
"Baby what?"
"There are words for what you like," she said. "There are words for what you are. And there's a whole world of people who like it."
I looked at her. At her long, bare legs, at her elegant throat and long black hair. Her violently green eyes and full mouth. She was beautiful, and even if she didn't make me sore with wanting like Embry did, I was still attracted to her. "And are you one of the people who like it?" I asked carefully.
Her smile deepened. "I am."
"I see."
She leaned forward, her smile turning into something more serious. "Can I show you something tonight?"
"What do you want to show me?"
"How it could be. And if you like how it could be, I'll show you more.”
I didn't have a response right away. Everything I'd ever believed about sex and desire had revolved around it being organic, genuine, and deep, and this was undoubtedly transactional and arranged. There'd be no emotional intimacy to underscore our joining, and that had always been important to me.
And then, with a bitter taste in my mouth, I remembered that Embry was out in Prague somewhere at this very moment, enjoying any number of transactional intimacies. I remembered his face as I asked him if he hated me on the train.
Yes, he'd answered.
What did it feel like to want someone who hated you? It felt like hell.
"Show me," I told Morgan.
Cat's smile. A long arch of her back as she stretched her arms. I watched the fabric of her dress pull tight around her small tits and ride up the smooth skin of her legs. It had been a long time since I'd seen a woman in civilian clothes and I had to admit I'd missed the sight. The curves, the soft graces, the inviting hollows of a woman's body: the space between breasts, the luscious cleft of an ass, the hidden, wet place between the thighs. My body responded exactly as you'd imagine.
I tried not to think of how Embry looked strolling to our hotel in the fog, his coat highlighting the breadth of his shoulders and his eyelashes dark on his cheeks as he lit a cigarette. I tried not to think of how it would feel to see his thighs instead, dusted with hair and sculpted with lean muscle, how it would feel to see his nipples harden under my stare rather than Morgan’s.
"So first," she said, after she finished stretching, "say you wanted to take my hand across the table. As if we were on a date."
I extended my hand, enfolding hers within my own. "Like this?"
"Yes. Now hold my wrist instead."
I slid my hand from hers to cover her wrist, and the moment I circled the delicate joint there with my fingers, something changed inside my mind. It shoved roughly into place, like a carpentry joint.
"Oh," I said.
"Yeah," she said.
I gave it a small squeeze—not hard enough to bruise, just hard enough to test the give of her skin—and the tiny flinch she gave at the unexpected pressure was better than any kiss. Then she laughed. "You’re a quick learner. Let's keep going."
And we did, as we moved from restaurant to bar to hotel. I ordered for her at the bar; when we crossed the street and I instinctively put my hand at the small of her back, she guided it to the back of her neck instead. When I kissed her for the first time in an alley beside the bar, she said, bite me, bite me, and I did, and I felt like the entire world was spinning around my feet. My cock throbbed and leaked all over itself as my teeth dug into the warm flesh of her neck, the heat in my blood was making me fevered and delirious as she panted and mewled as I bit. And then she guided my hands under her skirt, and said, "See? See how wet you make me?"
I groaned into her neck, my fingers covered with evidence of how much she liked it. She wanted it, wanted me, all of me. All the parts of me I'd kept hidden out of decency and fear for so long.
"Can I show you the rest now?" she asked breathlessly.
