21. Petra

Chapter twenty-one

Petra

I shiver in the cold night air, and Papa’s concerned face lingers in my mind.

“Petra, come back to me.” Reed tilts my chin up until his face replaces Papa’s heartbroken one. “Don’t shut down.”

“I’m okay.”

“You sure about this?” Reed asks as I open the car door. “I don’t want to push you to come with me. I lost my temper there.”

I drop the bag on the seat but don’t get in. “That’s you losing your temper? You’re zero percent Italian. This is…difficult, but regaining my independence is healthy.”

He searches my face and nods. “What was Tommy talking about? What happened with Nate?”

Icy wind blows down my neck, forcing a shiver. “Not tonight.”

Reed cradles my jaw, his touch slow and soothing. “Sometimes we have to reopen the wound and get the gunk out in order to heal.”

“Sometimes, but not tonight,” I protest. In a bid at distraction, I move Reed’s hands to my thighs, guiding them up under my jacket and blouse. His palms are rough against my waist. “You have a bargain to call in.”

“I know what you’re doing,” he says as he brushes the lace band of my bra. “I’m going to let you do it, because I want you to tremble under my hands, but we’ll circle back to this.”

“Or we could jump to the trembling part and forget about the rest. ”

“Stubborn woman.” He brushes our noses together and releases me with a wry smile. We climb into the car, and he doesn’t give me a chance to retreat into my shell. “I didn’t get a chance to properly enjoy that blouse in front of your family. Unzip your coat, Pet, and tug down your neckline.”

My shaking fingers follow his direction. His eyes follow the length of my neck down past the shadowy curve between my breasts. “Enjoy what you see, baby?” I ask, mimicking his words from last night.

He cracks a smile, but tugs sharply on my hem, until my breasts are one deep breath from toppling out. “I want every inch of you in my mouth before the sun rises.”

“Is that a pickup line?” I’m not blushing or giggling now. I’m taking what I want, without doubt or shame.

“It’s a promise,” he says. He lays his palm on my thigh, fingers draped so they’re warmed between my legs, and I can’t breathe from the want of it. He might enjoy my fur, but I’m suddenly grateful I had the foresight to shave my legs.

I’m on edge as we park in the lot. My courage lasts me all the way through the lobby, but when he closes the door to his room behind us, my courage remains outside. “Reed? I don’t know how to do this. The bath was an easy warm up—I was nervous getting in, but you made it so…effortless. And you weren’t staring at me.”

“Difficult not to stare at you,” Reed says, removing my coat to drape it over a chair. “You can’t hide how beautiful you are, not even when you try.”

“Oh please, you wouldn’t have glanced at me twice in line at Mulberry’s if I hadn’t reacted that way.”

Reed frowns. “I wasn’t looking at anyone , Pet. But I’m glad I saw you.”

My heart swells, and I stuff it back into its box. “I wasn’t looking at anyone either.”

“I know,” he says, and pulls me in close with a groan. “God, you smell sweet. Is it perfume? Soap?”

“A mix, and oil, too—the cold dries out my skin.”

“Makes me crave you,” he confesses, and my pulse flutters under the press of lips to my neck. “Can I kiss you here? Kiss you everywhere?”

His hand dips to my neckline and toys with the fabric, but my necklace shifts across my throat, pulling me out of the moment. I shake my head, reaching up to unclasp it. “Not here. Take me to bed.”

Reed watches me tuck my necklace in the pocket of my coat. He wants to ask again—the question is written all over his face. When I don’t offer any information, he guides me to the bedroom and turns on the lamp. The door shuts, closing it off from the rest of the suite. The room is instantly cozier, but when Reed’s fingers brush my sides and lift my blouse over my head, my nerves make themselves known.

“Fair is fair,” I say, voice wavering. “My shirt for yours.”

He raises his eyebrows in surprise, but unbuttons his shirt. “Alright, but I’m not wearing a sexy bra.”

I giggle as I reach behind me to undo the hooks, but Reed’s hands find mine first.

“Wait. I want to do it, please.” He abandons his task to trace his hands all over the lace I’ve left bare, and my trembling fingers push his shirt over his shoulders. His lips form a path from my cheek to my collarbone to my breasts. I squirm as he unhooks the lace, drops it to the floor, and feathers kisses across my skin.

“I need this to go faster,” I complain, holding him to me.

Reed laughs—smug, arrogant, and wonderful—and unfastens the buttons on my jeans to tug them down my legs. I lose my balance, falling back on the bed, and Reed lands on top of me.

“Sorry!” I squeal through giggles.

Reed chuckles as he gets to his feet. “We’re both still wearing shoes, and those should’ve been the first to go.”

Awkwardness hits home. I don’t know how to do this.

Nate didn’t want me after the first couple years. What if Reed wants an idealized version of what sex could be between us, but the reality is awful? Suddenly, the things Nate didn’t appreciate hang heavily over me. The sprinkle of hair on my toes, my stretch marks, the scar on my stomach, my marks. There are brown flecks, like splatters of paint, all over me, and I wish I could scrub them off.

Reed kneels at my feet and tugs off my shoes and pants. His shirt and shoes hit the floor before he sees my face. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“No, it’s… You’re a master at this and I—I don’t remember how to flirt . I want this to be easy, Reed. I want to forget who I am and just enjoy being with you here, in this moment. But I can’t .”

Reed smiles, his eyes luminous and earnest in the warm light of the bedside lamp. His hands are warm where they spread over the tops of my thighs. “If you haven’t flirted with me yet, then I’ll be helpless when you do.”

I’m afraid that if I laugh, I’ll sob, so I don’t do either. This must unnerve Reed, because he shifts to rub his hands up and down my arms as if I’m cold.

“I don’t want you to forget who you are. I quite like Petronia Diamante,” he says, and frowns at my answering snort. “I have an idea. Do you trust me?”

“As well as I can trust someone I’ve known for a few days.” It’s the hard truth. Reed won’t harm me, but he pushes me out of my comfort zone, and he’s not familiar with my limits.

Reed’s lips press together as he searches my face. “I need you to trust a little more. I promise I only want to make you feel good.”

Reed crawls onto the bed to gather the giant pillows. He stacks two on top of each other and reaches for me, guiding me down until my head is cradled in their softness. I drown in his honey eyes, hypnotized, while he kneels beside me, holds my chin, and swipes a thumb repeatedly over my mouth. I forget I’m nearly naked. Forget to giggle. Forget to be awkward.

“Eventually, you’re gonna let me kiss you.” His voice is rough, pleading and demanding all at once. Heart pounding, my lips part to ask for one, but he breaks away to grab another pillow. “You want this to be easy, darling? ”

He strips the pillowcase off and folds the fabric neatly until it’s a long, narrow stretch of cloth. I nod, and my blood heats as he leans over me to kiss my cheek.

“Then I’ll make it easy. Lift your head and close your eyes.” I move instantly, because of course I trust Reed. He places the cloth over my eyes as a blindfold, tucking it under my head so that I can take it off if needed. “Forget everything else. It’s you and my voice—”

I frown. “I don’t want to use you.”

His hand trails up my neck to my mouth. In the darkness of the blindfold, he leaves tingles everywhere he touches. I’m hyper aware of the rough pad of his finger as he plays over my lower lip. “Do you still know it’s me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want it to be me, in this room, right now?”

The blindfold takes the pressure off. I can feel his eyes on me, but I’m not busy reading him, or judging my own body. “If Thor showed up, I’d kick him out.”

He chuckles, fingers leaving fire in their wake down my neck, across my ribs. “Cheeky, cheeky. God, your smile is gorgeous. What about Knight? Would you rather have him here?”

“You think I’d be more connected to a fake scene?” I reach for some part of him and give a gentle squeeze. “You braved my family over dinner, have an unhealthy obsession with puppy chow, and delight in embarrassing me at work. No one else compares.”

I can’t tell what Reed’s sharp inhale means, but his mouth on my shoulder makes my toes curl in anticipation. In the safety of the dark, my nerves disappear.

“Dangerous woman,” he murmurs before he pulls back. “What are your boundaries? What can’t I touch? Kiss? Can I take my time as I eat you out, baby?”

My blood beats, hot and heavy, like a bass drum. “Shit. I can’t believe you say things like that.”

“I’m not shy,” he notes with a laugh. “Boundaries, Petra. Yes until no, or no until yes? ”

There aren’t any, I want to say. I also want to tell him not to go down on me. Nate didn’t enjoy it, and he made me hate it. But Reed isn’t Nate, and I hold back my misgivings. “For this moment, I’m yours to touch, Reed.”

“And you said you don’t flirt. Touch,” he repeats, like that in itself is a boundary line. “With my mouth, too?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

He takes his time learning me. I wouldn’t have thought blinding myself would help, but it grounds me. My only points of connection with the world are the soft pillows under my head, the sheet against my back—

And Reed.

Reed’s mouth, unhurried on my skin. Reed’s hair, tickling me with each brush. His wide palm that strokes, soothes, and arouses me. He builds me up slowly, his body hot along my side as he maps every dip and curve he can reach. All of it unhurried, and accompanied by soft words in my ear.

“I love this little mark here, Pet.” He chuckles as he caresses the side of my breast. “And this one here, at your waist.”

“Sure, moles are very sexy.”

He nips my shoulder, scolding me. “I wasn’t finished. You have several of them, and it makes me want to play connect the dots with you.”

“Pretty sure there’s a pen on the desk,” I offer dryly.

“Not the medium I was thinking of.” Reed’s deep chuckle makes all my cells tingle. My breath hitches as I imagine him over me, claiming me with his release, smearing it across my skin from mark to mark. The idea is sexy. Reed pauses with his hand on me. “No smart retort?”

I swallow. “No.”

“Fuck.”

He’s pressed against me, hard and throbbing. It gives me a rush of power, of confidence. “What? Do you enjoy it when I’m the one talking, Reed? ”

“I love it.” Reed’s jaw brushes the side of my breast, forcing a moan from me.

“What else? Do you enjoy being blindfolded?” I ask, and Reed’s hands press more firmly—with purpose.

“Doesn’t everyone?” He smiles against my skin as he moves down and licks up the length of my ribs.

I finally let myself be an active participant. My fingers find Reed in the dark, sliding up his naked back to tangle in his hair. “Tell me your favorite.”

“You first,” he says.

“Okay. But some of my wants are theoretical. I haven’t—” My words cut out as Reed licks a stripe up the slope of my breast, stopping short of my nipple. I moan, fingers fisting in his hair, urging him to do it again. “Haven’t done them in real life.”

“Can you give me an example? I’m obsessed with your tits, Pet. Addicted.” He brushes his lips over my nipple, and it clicks. With each of my words, he moves faster, presses harder. He wants more.

I’m not the only audiophile in the room.

He wants my sounds as much as I need his. It’s intoxicating, knowing I can affect him that way. I’m so drunk on it that I dive in headfirst. “There’s much I’ve only imagined. I’ve never experienced breath play with a partner, but I’ll bet it’s mind-blowing.”

Reed’s lips part around my nipple and my toes curl. The slide of his tongue against my skin, the audible pop of suction—both send me spiraling.

“What about it appeals to you?” he rasps out, and one of my hands leaves his hair to smooth down his shoulder.

“The surrender. Not worrying about breathing unless I’m told to. And the…I don’t know how to describe it. The white noise of it? Until everything comes rushing back in.”

Reed moans, and his hand flexes against my hip as he leans over to kiss my other breast. “How do you know that if you haven’t done it? ”

My cheeks heat, and I’m glad I can’t see his reaction. “I can hold my own breath. Plus, we’ve established that I have hands and use them.”

He groans, and his teeth press into my tender skin. “What else?”

The bite has me seeing stars, or maybe it’s the way his audible pleasure wraps around me. His moans wash over me in hot waves. “We’re trading,” I protest.

Even blindfolded, I can tell Reed is smiling. “Alright. I enjoy this pace—and slow, sleepy wake-up sex. I’d love to touch you while you’re still asleep and ease you out of dreams with my face between your legs.”

“I’ve never had that.” I gasp as he tests his teeth on my nipple, and take that to mean it’s my turn to share. “I’ve fantasized about being fingered in public. Maybe fucked in public? Not sure—that’s why it’s theoretical.” It comes out too stiffly. I’m not used to this, and it shows.

But Reed nods, his lips trailing down my sternum. His voice is deeper than before. “You want the rush, but don’t want to be caught. That’s why it’s hotter in a fantasy. My fantasy would have you in something sheer while we’re out. Seeing your hard little nipples through your shirt, your dress? Drives me wild.”

“You do have a thing for my breasts.” I shudder when he dips his tongue into my navel, and he chuckles. “I don’t know if I could do that here. But someplace else? Maybe.”

He breaks away and starts again at my knee, kissing up the inside of my thigh. His stubble catches against my sensitive flesh, and my grip on his shoulder flexes and falters. “Fantasies don’t always need to become reality. But if you wanted to, I’d jump at the chance. The subtlety of it kills me. Like right now. You might not be screaming, but you’re rocking your hips—shifting the sheet underneath you—and I’m dying to taste you.”

My misgivings surge forward. “I’m not sure I can orgasm that way— ”

Reed nips at my inner thigh and makes me jerk. “Whether you can or can’t doesn’t change that I want to do it. Don’t miss out on the fun parts by hunting down an orgasm.”

I move the conversation away to distract from the butterflies in my stomach. “I enjoy blow jobs—it’s fun by itself, but the real pleasure? Knowing I did that. Knowing that orgasm is mine. Like you said—when you claimed my orgasm was yours.”

“Your orgasms are mine.” Reed’s fingers slide up my inner thigh, staking his claim. “Your last one and however many more you’ll let me have—they’re mine. I’ll take everything you offer.”