a quick little response to the touch, as well as to draw in air to follow his direction.
“Arouse…to evoke or awaken, as in a feeling, emotion or response. Also…to awaken someone from sleep.”
“What you’re feeling when I touch you is arousal. And there’s nothing I want more than to wake you up like that.” He paused. “Didn’t I tell you to do something?”
She jumped a little, remembering. He didn’t smile, just kept looking at her in the mirror. She handed the phone back to him and he tossed it onto the bed, never taking his gaze from her as she loosened the sash and worked the robe off her shoulders. She didn’t look at herself in the reflection; only him, so he made sure she saw what was in his expression as he dropped his attention to every inch of exposed skin. As the cloth tumbled to her waist, he gazed at her shoulders, her breasts. The nipples were tight little points that made saliva gather in his mouth. He wanted to suck on them, make her moan and cry out, get her even wetter.
Putting a choke hold on his desires, Rory lifted the brush, and started working it through her hair, those thick and strong locks that fell in captivating waves around her bare shoulders. He threaded his fingers through them, following the brush. On each round, he gripped her nape, stroked, kneaded.
Her fingers opened and closed on the pink terry cloth, her body swaying toward his. Her eyes were half closed, but he noted her breath was still shallow. “Daralyn,” he said in that same steady voice, “I want you to cup your breasts. Run your fingers over your nipples. The better that feels, the more I want you to keep doing it.”
Her cheeks stained red against too much white. She was trembling. “But…I’m not supposed to touch myself…”
He should have known the bastards would hit that one, too. No masturbating. No giving herself even a minute of pleasure.
He set aside the brush. “Let’s do it together.”
Sliding his arms in under hers, he cupped her hands and brought both sets to her small curves. When he molded her fingers over her breasts, his own were in between them. He felt the give of flesh, the different texture of the nipple graze his fingertips. She sucked in a breath when he did that. He had her fingers do it as well, playing them over herself. She shifted, her breath coming faster.
“I’m getting…excited. That’s wrong.”
“No. It’s not wrong at all. You’re waking up. Like opening your eyes and seeing the sun. Think of all the things you’ve realized are different since you came to be with us. Look at my face, Daralyn. Look at what your pleasure is doing for me.”
Her wondrous expression went to his, and clung there as he kept his attention between that and her breasts, their overlapped hands there. She had her knees drawn up, pressed together, but the little shifts of her body told him it was time to change that up.
“You know how you opened your legs at the restaurant, when I touched your thigh? Do that now. Move the robe out of the way so I can see between your legs.”
That internal conflict increased, but the dazed look in her eyes did too, a little moan slipping from her lips.
It was a precarious edge. She was aroused, but there was a struggle happening inside of her, past and present clashing. His own desire grew in leaps and bounds, the more she looked at him with that yearning expression, looking for him to take her down the path that had been denied her. He saw it in the increased trembling, and more of that heart-rending uncertainty in her eyes. He could almost feel the confused ache there.
Taking it slow and easy wasn’t easy at all. She’d said she didn’t always want choices when it came to him. While that might be the natural Dom and sub stuff, if she didn’t understand she could choose, he was going to make extra sure he wasn’t doing anything she didn’t want, even if she couldn’t express those wants.
“You don’t have to question if what you’re doing and feeling is right or wrong, Daralyn. If you’re following my commands, it’s my will you’re obeying. Is my will wrong? What I want?”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t think so. I feel better, when I listen to you. Your voice…”
He continued to knead her breasts, her fingers in between,