I let out a sigh. ‘You don’t need me to make you reckless.’
He kissed my jaw so tenderly and whispered against my cheek ‘You have no idea.’ I braced myself on the kitchen worktop, both hands holding my body weight as his arm snaked around my waist and slowly down. His fingertips ran across the thin fabric of my skirt and along the contour of my behind. ‘Are you wearing underwear today?’ he asked with all the longing and desire laced around his words that I could feel in his grip on my hipbone.
I nodded and held in a moan by biting down on the corner of my lip.
‘I want to you listen carefully. Do exactly as I say.’ I nodded. ‘Take off your underwear,’ he said. I shook my head and he clasped his big hands around my tiny wrists. I almost broke down when his thumb lightly stroked the sensitive skin. ‘Take them off, beautiful.'
I smiled as I caught his gorgeous face before slowly bending down and pressing myself into his cock as I pulled the scrap of black lace down my legs. He held my breast, pinching the nipple as I stepped out of them and quickly balled them up into my fist. ‘I want to know there are no barriers between us.’
‘Fabric. That’s all,’ I said, breathless and panting and so close to bending over, holding my ankles and allowing him to thrust into me from behind.
‘No barriers,’ he repeated. ‘They’re not just fabric. They’re a fucking lock and key.’
‘I need you inside me, Danny.' His breathing was laboured, and his cock was still hard against me. ‘I don't think I can wait. Can we leave? Will they notice we're gone?'
‘Patience. You need to learn that good things come to those who wait,' he said.
‘Is this another lesson?’ I smiled against his hand as he ran it across my mouth and down my neck.
‘Of course it is. I'm going to push you. Test your boundaries.' He nipped at my earlobe with his lips. ‘Take those lacy things you call underwear that you're hiding in your hand and go and hang them on the corner of my easel in the art room.'
‘I can’t do that,’ I moaned as he palmed my breast. ‘People will see. This is where I work-’
‘Hang them off my easel,’ he demanded, stopping my pathetically weak protest. ‘If you do it, I’ll know you’re ready for the next lesson.’ He gripped my hips and turned me towards him, lifting my chin up to his face with his finger. ‘Do you trust me?’ I nodded as I took in his usually hard brown eyes that were now soft and dilating. ‘Go now.’
I stepped away from him and closed my eyes tightly. He ignored me entirely, but I could still hear his heavy breaths willing me on and gently pushing me towards the art room. There were fifteen minutes before tonight's class was due to start, and it was still reasonably quiet. I spotted a couple of people chatting outside the doors, but the art room itself was empty. I carried on past Ruth's office and saw her in deep conversation on the phone. I pushed a tense breath through my parted lips, thankful that she was occupied.
Inside the art room, Danny had left his motorcycle helmet on a stool in front of an easel in the far corner. A calling card. An indicator to guide me in the right direction. I smiled as I passed the table he had leant me back on and used his skills so thoroughly so many weeks ago. I held my hand out and unfurled my fingers that held a tight grip of the black lace. The fabric sprung open, and just as quickly, I hung my knickers from the right-hand corner of his easel before leaving the room.
I hid in the toilets as nerves swarmed my system. What was I doing? What kind of voodoo power did he hold over me? Every part of me suddenly felt light, and I was aware of my pulse points throbbing and speeding up with every harsh breath. The part of my brain that talked sense and not the nonsense the other part of my brain had started to spew was now chanting for me to calm myself down. Take a breath. Run back to the art room and put my knickers where they should be—firmly on my backside. The other part of my brain was cartwheeling and fanning my face as it anticipated the sex that would inevitably follow. Despite the nerves, I'd never been so turned on.
Knock, knock, Knock.
Oh God.
‘Kate, sweetheart, is everything OK? Oli said he saw you running into the toilets. I won't come in. I don't do sick or other bodily functions of the same ilk.' Ruth was on the other side of the door, and I suddenly felt the weight of guilt for even thinking about hanging my knickers from an easel that belonged to her in a building that meant so much to me. ‘Do you need me to get you anything?'
‘I’m fine. Be right out,’ I replied, my voice shaking. I held my hands out in front of my face. They matched my voice. I couldn’t stop the tremble. I knew it was because I couldn’t think about how I was going to retrieve my knickers without possibly disappointing quite a few people. Including Danny.
The centre had taken on another life when I stepped out of the toilets. It was filled with noise and people, which only caused my heart to tuck itself further behind my ribcage. The sound got louder until it was echoing and shrill and I couldn't stop it from ringing in my ears. Every step I took towards the art room felt slow and cumbersome. I was in the middle of a tunnel and everything around me was slipping away, the doors the only focus until I pushed them open and was hit with voices and colours that were now muffled and slow.
Oli waved and stuck his thumb up to ask if I was OK. I smiled and nodded. Ruth watched me cautiously, pointing me over to an easel that was free at the back of the room. I walked towards it searching for Danny but he was nowhere to be seen. My heart pounded. Slowly I built up the courage to look at his easel. His helmet was still on top of the stool. His jacket was on the table at the side of his workspace. A fresh canvas was hung and ready to be painted, and the top right-hand corner of the easel was…empty.
My breathing juddered as I attempted to get it back into some order. Danny came through the doors and winked as he passed and started getting ready for the session. I smiled like an idiot, and gradually, the warmth of adrenaline began to leave my body, giving up the grip I'd felt so tightly. He had been testing me. I thought back to his words from earlier as his hand had cupped me perfectly.
‘If you do it, I’ll know you’re ready for the next lesson.’
As I watched his shoulder muscles flex and the stretch of his jeans across his fantastic arse, I noticed a small piece of black lace poking out his back pocket.
I knew then that I liked it.
I knew then that I’d passed the test.
Chapter Twenty-One
‘I'm not great with hints, Kate. I won't play games. Tell me everything. Use words. Use fucking body language. Tell me it all with your fucking mouth on my cock.’
Lesson number…I’d lost count. Today’s lesson started out with the theme of communication. The importance of talking to your partner, directing them to where you wanted them to be and not being afraid of telling them your sexual desires. He wanted me to tell him my dirtiest fantasy. So I did. Because when his fingers were on the back of my scalp, teasing the nerves and making me grind my pussy harder with every throb, and when he gripped me tighter and pulled me onto him with such delicious force that an orgasm was almost instant, I was ready to tell him everything.
‘I want you to fill me with your come, and then I want to sit on your face until your tongue brings me to orgasm.'
He said, ‘Yes fucking please.’
He rested his nose on my clit as he thought about it some more.
He said, ‘Oh fucking fuck.’
And I came harder than I ever had before.
I had never felt so entirely in the moment. The rush and pull to orgasm were overwhelming my body. I was connected to him completely.
We didn’t stop.
There was a brief shower break when he soaped every inch of my skin and I cuddled him hard as he circled his fingers on the delicate skin where my back dips. We got lost somewhere between reality and us as the water cascaded over our heads and eventually turned cold. We didn't care. The cuddle was worth it. It was rare that he let me hold him. He was usually up, dressed and out the door once o
ur lessons were over.
‘I’ve been thinking. Don’t take this the wrong way, OK.’ He held up his hands and smiled as we lay down on the bed. ‘Do you ever wax or shave?’ He pointed and circled his finger towards my lady bits.
I covered my face with my hand. ‘Oh God.’
‘Come here. I didn’t say it to embarrass you. If it’s bare, everything can feel much more intense,’ he said as he knelt on the bed.
‘Oh…’ I was suddenly interested. ‘I’ve never had it done professionally. The thought of a stranger down there has always been a bit too much,’ I replied as I started to blush.
‘You didn’t mind me,’ he laughed as I threw a pillow at his head.
‘I usually just do a bit of a trim,’ I said, rolling over to hide my embarrassment. I felt his arm slip around my waist. It was so intimate and tender that I forgot where we were and what really defined us. The fact that I wanted more of these softer moments both shocked and delighted me.
‘I’d like to shave you,’ he said. ‘Wait here.’
I could hear him rattling around in the bathroom. When he came out, he was holding a shaving brush, razor and shaving foam. He must have them in his bag. I made a mental note to think about what that meant later. He dropped them on the bed before heading into the kitchen and returning with a small bowl filled with warm, soapy water. ‘Do you trust me?' he asked as he started circling the brush. I nodded as he gently pushed me down. ‘Lie back.' He pulled my leg and rested it on his shoulder as he kissed my inside leg. I felt the warm water trickling, and just as I was getting used to the sensation, he swirled the shaving brush across my clit. The swirling continued until I felt him sweeping the brush around me, applying just the right amount of pressure and then loosening it all off again just to drive me wild. He repeated the process again and again.
‘You’ve got to let me orgasm.’
‘I say when you can orgasm,’ he replied.
‘You’re going to do some serious damage. Doesn’t withholding orgasms make you infertile or cause a nasty case of vagina sprain at the very least?’ I said as I flopped my arm across my forehead. I could hear him chuckling.
The cold razor contrasted starkly with the warm water. He held my leg in place as I wriggled and yelped. ‘I'm going to need you to stay still. It's kind of vital when I'm so close to all the bits I'm going to lick my tongue over after,' he said, smiling into my anklebone that was pushed against his cheek. He was swift with the razor, efficient even, and tender as he wiped the foam away. ‘Have you done this before?' I asked.
We lost eye contact and the hard frown line re-appeared on his forehead. ‘Might have,’ he replied, still avoiding the truth of my face. I sighed as he disconnected. He sat up and took the bowl, razor and brush into the bathroom. I followed him.
‘It doesn't matter,' I said, wrapping my arms around his neck as I stared at him in the mirror. ‘I know you've been with a lot of women. You've been honest with me, and it's pretty obvious from your expert skills.' I wiggled my eyebrows dramatically, and he laughed lightly.
He wrapped his hand around my wrist. It looked so tiny there. ‘I’ve had a lot of sex, Kate. I’ve done things I wouldn’t want you to imagine,’ he said.
‘Tell me.’
He traced his fingers down mine, across the bones and smoothing across my nails until a deep sigh escaped him. ‘Addicts always look for their next fix, but the more you have of the fix, the more you want. Suddenly your usual high isn't enough anymore, so you look for other things,' he replied.
‘Are you going to tell me you have a sex dungeon in your friend’s spare room?’
‘I don't have a sex dungeon,' he smiled. ‘But I know people who do.' My eyes grew wide, and he started to laugh. ‘I'm joking…kind of…BDSM has never really been my thing.'
‘You’ve tried it then?’ I asked, already knowing the answer.
‘Dabbled,’ he winked.
‘What’s been the biggest high?’
He dropped his head and started to laugh. ‘Are we really going there? Why do you want to know?’
‘Surely learning all about different sexual preferences should be part of the lessons?’ I smiled.
‘Maybe it should.’
His smile faded, but I wasn't going to let this drop. ‘Still waiting.'
‘Fucking hell! Let me think.’ He stared at the floor as he considered his response. I began to regret the question because I realised that if it took him this long to think about, there must be a lot of experiences to retrieve from the sexual memory bank. ‘I have a friend. He’s into parties. That was cool,’ he shrugged.
‘Swinging? Or is that dogging? Or maybe its called something else that I’ve never heard of.’
He laughed a little. ‘You'd call it a sex party. Swinging was part of it, but mainly it's a group of people having a good time,' he smiled.
‘So…an orgy?’ Why did that sound so hot?
‘Yes.’
‘Wow.’
‘It was pretty wow,’ he replied as he slid his hand against my neck and into my hair.
‘Is it something you’d want to do again?’ I gasped as he pulled my head back, exposing my neck to him.
‘Yes.’
Going to a sex party wasn't ever top of my to-do list or a general life goal, but as he kissed his way along my throat, I couldn't deny that I was intrigued. ‘Would you like to take me?' I whispered through small moans.
‘Yes,' he replied. I smiled at the man before me. He was opening my eyes to experiences I would never have imagined I would ever want to be a part of. ‘Would you like that?'
‘I don’t know. Maybe. Yes. I like the idea of people watching you so they can see how amazing you are when…’
Tell me.’
‘When you’re fucking me.’
‘Fuck, Kate,’ he moaned and palmed my breast as I watched him in the mirror.
‘Have you always had a high sex drive?’ I gasped.
‘I lost my virginity when I was fourteen. I've always enjoyed sex. At first, I liked the thrill of getting off and never having to see them again, but then I seemed to have this pull. They all tried to get another fuck. I could pick and choose. I was in full control,' he said, his eyes locked on mine.
‘What does an addiction to sex really mean? I guess what I’m really asking is what does it mean to you?’
‘It’s an addiction I choose to control, not wipe out like the others,’ he replied. ‘I enjoy sex too much to completely cut it out of my life.’
‘So, how many times a week?’
‘If you want to know if I’m fucking other women, the answer is no,’ he replied.
‘I’m enough?’ I watched him as he started to smile.
‘More than enough.' He traced his finger down my arm. Sparks followed his touch. ‘I have all my addictions under control, but sex is always going to be something I enjoy. Alcohol and drugs I can stay away from, but I don't want to do that with sex.'
‘Good to know,' I smiled, laughter taking over.
‘What’s caused all this?’ he asked as his smile grew.
‘I’m thinking of all those women who are still craving the touch of Danny Benedichi.’
‘What can I say?’ he laughed. ‘Once you’ve had the best, everyone else pales in comparison.’
‘So sure of yourself,' I smirked as he swatted my bum. ‘I'm laughing, but it's probably true.'
‘Probably. I took advantage of it. What kind of a bastard does that make me?’ he asked as he stared at himself in the mirror like he was seeing himself for the first time.
‘We all make mistakes.’
‘You always see the best in everyone. How do you do that?’ he asked.
‘It’s part of me. I’ve always been like that,’ I replied as he kissed my shoulder.
‘You deserve so much better than this. Better than me. What are you doing? You don’t need sex lessons. You need a man that will love you without fear.’
‘Don't say that. Let's not start to think a
bout what this is,' I pleaded, knowing that this could go either way. I turned into him, and he held me tighter. ‘Tell me more about the girls falling at your feet,' I smiled.
I felt him laugh as he rested his head into my neck. ‘I already told you. It was a bigger high than drugs. Didn't realise it at the time. Could have saved me from a lot of shit.'
‘Fourteen was young to lose your virginity.’
‘Really? How old were you?’
I sighed as I thought back and was hit with memories that I didn’t want to spend a lot of time thinking about. ‘I lost mine when I was sixteen. A boy from school promised to take me to see 27 Dresses at the cinema if I had sex with him. So if that doesn't perfectly describe my character flaws, I don't know what does,' I smiled in embarrassment.
I felt him stroke his thumb across my arm. ‘I’ve seen you,’ he said. ‘You need to stop trying to please everyone. You don't need to pretend to be what everyone wants you to be. Just be you. That's enough. More than enough. Can’t you see that?’
I was enough. More than enough. Was that really what he thought of me?
‘I’ve never felt like I was enough for anyone. I always felt people wanted more,’ I replied.
‘Me too,' he said as he pulled my arms closer to him. He was naked and I couldn't help but run my fingers across his tattoos. His eyes watched me, completely transfixed. I ran my fingertip over the little dark-haired boy on his arm climbing the steps to a shattered clock. It was so intricate and delicate. ‘Tell me about this one,' I said.
‘That’s me,’ he replied, still watching my hands. ‘That’s my mum, Serena,’ he said as he ran his finger over the darkened letters of her name. ‘The clock represents the time I had with her, or, more specifically, the lack of time. It ran out,’ he shrugged.
‘How old were you when she died?’
‘Six,’ he sighed, the pain evident in his eyes.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Yeah well, shit happens,’ he said as he pushed my arms away and everything we’d shared together fell away, leaving nothing but the skeleton of the relationship I was trying desperately to build.
Let Me Be Your Truth Page 13
