The Gentleman Mentor

by Kendall Ryan

  I lead him from the entryway, stopping at the kitchen to ask, “Would you like something to drink?”

  “I’m fine. Thank you.”

  Heading to the living room, I watch his gaze bounce around the room as if he’s not only taking in my space, but deciphering my personality too. He wanders over to the bookshelves lining the far wall. They are crammed with paperbacks of every variety and genre.

  “Bookworm, huh?” He lifts my signed copy of the mega-bestselling erotic romance from its revered resting place.

  “I read on my iPad, but I buy my favorites in paperback too,” I explain.

  “Romance, mystery, paranormal.” He skims his fingers along their spines. “You like it all, don’t you?” I can’t help but catch the flirty tone to his comment.

  “Yes, but love stories are my favorite.”

  “Why’s that?” He turns to face me, his expression turning serious.

  “Because. It’s what everyone wants, isn’t it? A partner. Someone to comfort you at the end of a hard day. Someone to love.”

  He frowns at me. “Not everyone wants that.”

  I want to challenge him, to prove him wrong. I don’t even know why, other than that my belief in love is everything to me, and I will fight to defend it.

  “What do you want then?” I lift my chin, trying to force a response from him.

  His narrowed eyes latch onto mine. “I’m in charge. Don’t forget that. If I were looking for love, don’t you think I’d have a girlfriend? A wife?”

  “Of course,” I stammer, getting the distinct feeling I’ve somehow offended him. “You’re attractive, intelligent. I didn’t mean to suggest—”

  “What I want is you on all fours, tits down, ass up.” His eyes darken, and I can feel the challenge radiating off of him.

  I’m unnerved and thrown off-balance. His reaction to my declaration that surely everyone must be looking for love was met with harsh rejection that only someone who’s been hurt would have. The unmistakable feeling that he’s been heartbroken washes over me. Is that why he does all this? This control? This no-strings mentoring?

  Before I can ponder it further, his hands on my shoulders bring me back to the moment. With steady pressure, he guides me down to my knees, all but signaling our discussion is over.

  Gazing up at him, I sink to the carpeting. I hate that he’s shut down our conversation, but recalling our previous lesson, I remember the intense look in his eyes, the almost primal need that seemed to take over. Afterward, he was tender and sweet, and seemed much more willing to engage in pillow talk. So I decide to be a good little submissive during my lesson, and then once he’s satisfied and feeling content, try to get some information out of him. I’m beyond curious about this man I’ve agreed to work with.

  “Did you follow my instruction this week, Brielle?” he asks.

  My gaze flits around the room as my brain struggles to remember what I was supposed to do this week.

  “You didn’t touch yourself, did you?” he asks.

  Oh. “No, sir.”

  He walks around me so that he’s positioned directly in front of me. My eyes are level with his groin, and I can’t help the smile that tugs on my lips.

  “What is it, pet?” he asks, lightly stroking my cheek.

  “Nothing.” I cough to cover up my smile.

  “Tell me.” His tone is firm, and I know there’s no way I’m going to disobey, despite the truth being quite embarrassing.

  “I was just remembering when I…sucked you.”

  He lifts his chin, looking up at the ceiling briefly, before bringing his gaze back down to mine. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.” My cheeks flush, but it’s the unabashed truth.

  His fingertips stroke my throat, running along the column of my neck, and every vivid detail about having his thick length in my mouth rushes back. The bite of discomfort in my jaw, drawing shaky breaths in through my nose, his pungent scent, the groans of pleasure that rumbled in his chest. I’m growing wet already.

  “If you behave tonight, I might let you suck on my cock again. But first, tonight’s lesson, yes?” he asks.

  I nod, eager to learn all he has to offer.

  “Tonight is about you understanding your sex appeal. Practicing the art of lovemaking, without any self-consciousness. Appreciating the true effect you have on a man, Brie.”

  I swallow my nerves. “Do I affect you?” I whisper, gazing up at him.

  “Does this answer your question?” His hand leaves my cheek, and he grips the bulge at the front of his trousers. Dear God. “You’ve got me hard already, sweetheart. At nothing more than the thought of getting to fuck your tight little pussy tonight. You are a prize, and I’m lucky to have you. Any man would be lucky to have you. Say it for me.”

  “Any man would be lucky to have me,” I murmur.

  His hand strokes my hair. “We’re going to work on getting you to actually believe that, but good, for now.” Offering me his hand, he helps me rise to my feet. His mood seems to have softened, and I’m still trying to catch up. Treating me to a warm and unexpected kiss on the mouth, Hale leans in to whisper near my ear. “Go into your bedroom. Undress and wait for me on the bed. I want to see what kind of sexy panties you’ve chosen for me tonight.”

  I walk to my darkened bedroom and undress, only remembering my plain white briefs when I remove my jeans. I remove everything but the panties and lie back on the bed.

  Soon, Hale is back, carrying his black bag.

  The nerves in my belly do a little dance in anticipation of what he has inside that mysterious bag of his.

  Setting the bag down, he removes his candle and lights it, placing it on my dresser.

  Familiar notes of sandalwood and black currant warm the room, and my nerves dissipate slightly. I have a feeling that I’ll forever associate this scent with him, and I don’t quite know how I feel about that.

  I’m not sure if I’m allowed to ask him questions at this juncture, but my curiosity gets the best of me. “What’s with the candle, anyway? Not that I don’t love the scent, I’m just curious.”

  “It’s another way for me to set the scene. A Dominant needs to be in control at all times, in all things. It’s a scent I had custom made for me. It provides another way for me to ensure the submissive I’m training is using all five senses in a way she hasn’t before during lovemaking.”

  “I see.”

  I wait to see what accoutrement or device he’ll withdraw from the bag next, but he turns to face me, letting his eyes wander the length of me.

  “Sorry, they’re not sexy,” I apologize, looking down at my choice in underwear.

  His smirk tells me he’s about to prove me wrong. “Are you sure about that, peach?” Sitting down beside me, he runs his thumb along the seam of the panties, tracing where the hem meets my inner thigh.

  I’m eager to feel his touch between my thighs, though I’m quite enjoying the reverent look in his eyes as he studies me. My gaze follows his path as his thumb moves to the front of my panties where my plump outer lips feel sensitive and swollen. He rubs up and down, making my clit tingle with each swipe of his finger.

  I can feel myself getting wet, and I know he must feel the way the damp fabric clings to me.

  “I want to fuck you with these on,” he growls, proving every notion I’ve had about myself to be wrong. He finds me desirable, even in my most modest state, and the thought thrills me.

  “Anything you want.”

  He raises one eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”

  The memory of him telling me he wanted to take me, well, there, is still fresh in my mind. “I’m sure,” I say, mustering my courage. Be brave. This is my time for adventure, to explore.

  Leaning down to kiss me once more, he tastes of mint and something distinctly Hale. His tongue sweeps past my parted lips and I open for him, my own tongue desperate to lick against his. My hips push closer toward his hand where he’s still treating me to light car
esses over my panties.

  I reach for him, gripping the hard ridge in his pants, and he releases a strangled grunt.

  “Not yet.” Lifting my hand away from his happy place, he places it on the bed beside me and intertwines our fingers, holding me there while his other hand continues its magic against me.

  The knowledge that he’s hard and wants me as badly as I want him is a powerful thing. He’s so much bigger than any man I’ve seen before, and I can’t wait to feel him inside me. My body aches for it. Yet, he’s so in control of everything—of my pleasure and of his own restraint. I want him naked and on top of me, but it seems for now, he wants to torture me.

  “I need you to understand something. A basic concept.” With a single kiss placed just below my ear, he pulls back, looking down at where his fingers are still rubbing against me. “Men are visual creatures. And even though you think these plain white panties aren’t sexy…there’s a tiny damp spot I can see right here.”

  He rubs his thumb over my clit again, and I release a shuddering breath.

  “That is sexy as fuck.” His voice is rough, aroused.

  “Hale…” I groan, becoming increasingly frustrated with his fingers teasing between my thighs.

  His pupils dilate when I moan his name, and just when I think I can’t take any more of his slow torture, he moves my panties to the side. Sliding his fingers along the seam of my sex, he parts me and sinks two fingers deep inside.

  My hips lift off the bed and a groan of satisfaction falls from my mouth. “Yes, please,” I beg.

  “Even when you don’t think you’re sexy, move with confidence. When you own it, when you work with what you’ve got, it will always be a turn-on.”

  Understanding that this is part of his lesson, my sluggish brain eventually catches on to what he’s saying.

  “So, you mean I could do this…” I move my hand between my legs and my index finger begins slowly circling my clit while his fingers slide in and out of me. “…and it would be sexy.”

  He makes a hungry noise in his throat and my pulse riots. “Fuck yeah, it is. Move with confidence. Remember that.”

  I close my eyes and let my head fell back onto the pillow as I get lost in the sensations. He thrusts his fingers upward, stroking my G-spot, and I begin climbing toward orgasm almost immediately. A few more strokes and I’m clenching down on his fingers, an intense orgasm ripping through me. Blinding white light crashes over me as his fingers slowly withdraw.

  “Wow. That was…” I struggle to catch my breath.

  Hale leans over me and kisses the side of my neck. “You seem to be catching on to my lessons nicely.” He nips at the tender skin at the base of my throat, and I realize he’s nowhere near done with me. “Do you need a moment to recover?” His gaze moves between my breasts and my eyes.

  I shake my head, the quiet intensity of the moment settling in. The flickering candlelight. The scent of my arousal in the air. I’m lost to him and this moment entirely, and I want more.

  Hale rises from the bed and pulls his shirt over his head. His jeans and boxers go next, and he stands before me, completely nude, looking like a sexy, muscled god with his six-pack abs, his smooth and defined pecs, and impressive erection.

  My eyes are drawn to it, and I don’t even try not to stare. My greedy gaze drinks its fill. He’s nicely manicured down there, and his cock is long, thick, and straight. It’s perfect, actually, and I’ve never thought that about a penis before. His fist closes around it, and he strokes himself once from base to tip.

  “Do you want me to fuck you, peach?” he whispers.

  More than anything. “Yes,” I answer dutifully.

  He moves onto the bed, kneeling between my parted knees. There is not even a question of protection, both of us having disclosed our personal health records, including the fact that I’m on birth control.

  I’ve never been so crazed with want and lust that I’ve felt out of control, but that’s how he makes me feel. I hate his practiced restraint and composure. He slowly slides the panties down my legs and discards them at the end of the bed.

  Leaning over me, Hale brings my hands up above my head, linking our fingers and pressing me firmly into the bed. His hard arousal presses against my center, and I want to rock against him, to angle my hips and force him inside, but I don’t. He kisses me deeply and I follow his lead, my lips parting and my tongue dancing with his.

  He is by far the best kisser I’ve ever had the pleasure of kissing. His lips are soft, yet firm, his tongue warm and delivering subtle strokes that leave me wanting more. More of everything. I imagine what his mouth would feel like between my legs.

  Unable to hold back, I grind against him and he groans. “Not yet.” He pulls his lips from mine. “I don’t want to hurt you with this.” He slides his cock against my slickness. “Need to make sure you’re ready, okay?”

  I’m about to tell him I’m ready when his mouth lowers to my breasts and his tongue licks a path between my cleavage.

  “I want to fuck these later,” he murmurs. “They’re gorgeous.”

  I’ve always hated that my breasts were on the smaller side, but the way Hale is worshipping them changes my mind. I feel perfectly whole in his presence. He holds nothing back, releasing my hands to push my breasts together and lick the cleavage he creates, sucking firmly on my nipples until I’m about to scream. I reach between us, gripping his solid cock, and slide my hand up and down.

  He sucks in a breath and curses softly. “You better be ready for this.”

  “I am,” I pant, squeezing him.

  “I’m going to tell you exactly what to do. Do you understand?”

  My gaze lifts to his and I nod.

  Taking his thick cock in his hand, he strokes himself slowly again. Is he doing that just to torture me?

  “A man likes it when you know how to please him. You’re going to become the girl he can’t live without. The only girl he wants to fuck. Period.”

  I stare at him, incredulous, wondering how exactly I’m going to accomplish that.

  “Turn over. Put that nice round ass in the air. Just like before.”

  I roll onto my stomach and then lift my behind up, curling my knees under me. My cheek rests on the pillow, and though I can’t see much, I can see enough. Hale rises up on his knees behind me, admiring the view and positioning himself against me.

  He trails his finger down my spine, not stopping until I feel his finger between my cheeks, ghosting over me. “Did I tell you already that I want to fuck you here?” He gives my butt a quick swat, and I release a grunt.

  “Y-yes.” I don’t think that’s on tonight’s agenda, but he constantly keeps me guessing, so who knows. I am totally at his mercy, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like it.

  Palming both of my ass cheeks in his large hands, he aligns his eager cock against me and thrusts forward. My pussy squeezes around him, not quite as ready for the invasion as I thought. I’m instantly reminded that I’ve been celibate for four long years.

  He stills against me. “Relax your muscles, okay?” His tone is sincere and soft, and I’m starting to crave this tender side of him that he only shows on occasion.

  I take a deep breath and when I exhale, he pushes forward again, sinking a little deeper this time. Dear God. He’s stretching me in the most wonderful way, easing in and pulling back slowly, carefully. The competent way he moves speaks to his experience with women, something I don’t want to think about in this moment.

  “Goddamn, you’re tight, peach.” His voice comes out strained and raw.

  One more long, slow thrust and finally he’s buried fully within me. A low moan escapes my lips. Ever since our first meeting, I’ve imagined what fucking him would be like. Never in my dirtiest fantasy was it this good. He moves in and out at the perfect pace. Varying his thrusts from hard and fast to deep and slow, lingering when he’s fully buried inside me as if he wants to savor the feeling. The way his hands grip my hips, and he pulls me back firmly a
gainst him with each thrust, tells me I’m going to have little fingertip bruises there tomorrow. And damn if I don’t love the thought of him marking me.

  “Fuck me back, sweetheart. Get into it and let yourself go. A man needs to know he can get you so full of need that you have no choice but to rock these beautiful hips closer and take every last inch of what he’s giving you.”

  Hale’s movements still, giving me the chance to practice taking the lead. It feels so foreign to me, so new, that for a moment, I struggle to find a rhythm that will suit us both, my body stopping altogether.

  “You’re thinking too much,” he says, leaning over me and pressing a single kiss between my shoulder blades. “Just feel. Get rid of all those voices in your head. Let everything go and simply feel. It’s just me and you, and we can practice for as long as you need to.”

  Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. Embracing my inner sex kitten, I imagine what the view must be like for him. Me in a position of complete surrender, my ass on display, his cock impaling me, owning me. It’s an erotic sight. I push my butt back, sliding on his cock until his heavy balls slap against me, and he grunts out a sound of delicious pleasure.

  I try the move again, withdrawing and rocking back, wiggling my butt in a way I hope is enticing. But I believe him—this is a judgment-free zone, and that thought alone provides confidence. Knowing I can try things I’ve never been brave enough to try is freeing.

  He places one hand flat on my lower back, but he lets me do all the work, and I practice rocking back and forth on him.

  He shudders, then whispers a curse.

  “How is it?” I ask, glancing back at him, suddenly needing some reassurance.

  “Uh, you’re doing good.” His voice is impossibly tight, and something tells me I’m doing better than good.

  Deep satisfaction rises inside me and I let go, fucking him faster, pushing my ass back to take him deep again and again. The unintended consequence is that I stop thinking so much and just feel. It’s incredible, and soon I feel my release building.

  “Hale…” I cry out. “I’m close…”

  Suddenly he pulls free and my body mourns his loss, but only for a second. Before I know it, I’m tugged up from the bed, wrapped in his strong arms, and laid back down—on my back this time. And then the broad head of him is pushing into me again, claiming me.