Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Jigsaw

Pride and fury have taken up residence in my chest.

Pride—that I've set Margot off three times now—without even getting her naked.

Fury—that some asshole in the past hurt her. Was it the same piece of shit who told her she was bad in bed? Did he degrade her to cover up for how little he understood about female anatomy?

Breathing hard and with a dazed smile on her face, Margot whispers, "Thank you."

"You're very welcome." Reluctantly, I pull my hand out of her underwear.

"You can call me little lady death, now." She flashes a goofy smile. "I feel like I've died and gone to heaven thanks to you."

Shaking with laughter, I cup her cheek and kiss her. "There's a saying about orgasms being a little death."

"La petite mort," she whispers. "I thought it was just a literary euphemism until now."

Those sweet, softly spoken compliments she keeps handing me will be my undoing.

Slowly she sits up, taking her weight off me for a few seconds while she rearranges herself. Then she straddles my lap and rests her hands on my shoulders. "Now, teach me how to do that for you ."

I widen my eyes but can't stop laughing. "You want to kill me?"

"Only in the good way." She purses her lips. "Please?"

Fuck, I want to teach her so many things. I could stay up all night long demonstrating my favorite positions, and it still wouldn't be enough.

"Show me." I slide down in the chair, jostling her in my lap.

Confusion furrows her brow. "How?"

I glance down at the bulge in my jeans. "Show me that you want to please me." I keep my voice low but firm.

She swallows hard, like this is becoming too real for her. Her lips part as if she's going to ask another question but then she attacks my belt buckle.

A little grunt of frustration pushes past her lips. "Help me."

Chuckling, I undo the belt and the fly of my jeans, then tuck my hands behind my head.

"Much better." Her eyes sparkle with excitement—she really does want to learn and I'm more than happy to teach. Without hesitating, she tugs my briefs down, freeing my erection.

She blinks and stares. "Wow."

One corner of my mouth curls. "That's always nice to hear."

An anxious expression ripples over her face. Tentatively, she wraps one hand around me. Christ, her soft, warm little fingers feel so good. I hiss a harsh breath of pleasure. She flicks her gaze to my face, worry in her eyes.

"You feel good on me," I whisper. "Keep touching. Use both hands."

"I need both hands," she mutters, gripping me firmly.

I'm caught between laughing and groaning with pleasure. Fuck, she's fun.

The tip of her tongue traces her top lip as she concentrates on exploring my length. I circle my fingers around one wrist and pry her off me. "Wet your hand."

She catches my eye and slowly licks from her palm to her fingertips, then resumes her soft exploration.

"Fuuuck." I grab her other hand and bring it to her waistband. "Touch yourself. Get your hand wet for me."

Her eyes widen at first, but she quickly dips her fingers under her sweatpants. Her breath catches as she touches herself.

"Like this?" She pulls her hand out, showing me her glistening fingers.

"Just like that."

She wraps her hand around me again. Thank fuck I'm sitting in the chair. My legs twitch and my eyes roll back as she wraps both wet fists around me.

"Keep going," I encourage.

She glides her hands down to the base, tightening her grip, then back to the crown.

"That's good."

My hips jerk as she runs her thumb through the pre-cum gathering at the tip, swirling it in a tight circle. I suck in a shaky breath.

"Is that okay?" she asks.

"Yes," I breathe out. "Sensitive there."

A bit of her tentativeness fades. She slides her hands over me again and again, growing more confident with each stroke.

Lesson. I'm supposed to be teaching her… something . Feels too fucking good. Hanging onto my control by a thread, I inhale and exhale a few rapid breaths while trying to rub my brain cells together.

"Every man will be different," I say, hating the thought of her ever touching anyone else. "Experiment. See what he likes. Don't be afraid to ask."

Worry creases her brow. "What do you like?"

Everything and anything as long as you're the one doing it to me.

"You can use more pressure." My mind blanks as she immediately squeezes harder, adding a twist of her wrist at the base. "Fuuuck, that's really good." I flex into her hands.

Her teeth sink into her lower lip, and she mimics the same movement over and over.

"That's good, baby. You're doing so good." My words come out choppy, but a smile spreads across her face.

My skin prickles as she pumps harder. Christ, I want my cock pushing between her lips and her wet little tongue teasing the tip. Her tight little cunt wrapped around me is going to feel amazing. I'm dizzy with thoughts of all the lessons I plan to teach her.

Or maybe it's all the blood rushing to my groin. "I'm close," I warn her.

I expect her to stop, maybe run into the kitchen to grab a towel so I can finish myself off, but she only releases me long enough to whip her shirt over her head and drape it over the cushion.

She wants me to nut in her shirt? "Uh?—"

"I don't care," she whispers breathlessly, wrapping her hands around me again. "I want to make you come. Please?"

Not going to argue with that.

She licks her hand again, then resumes pumping like she never stopped. My eyes squeeze shut as she returns to the perfect pressure and pace. Stroking in rhythm to my heartbeat. How the fuck could anyone tell her she's bad at this?

My toes curl. Tingles race along my spine.

"Coming," I warn.

"Yes," she whispers.

"Fuuuck." My legs go numb as I release. I reach down and grab the shirt, spilling into it. She slows her pumping and loosens her grip but keeps her hands on me.

"Good girl," I breathe out.

I groan through the orgasm, my whole body shaking.

Then it's too much. My body jerks as she grazes the tip of my cock. I let out a wild shout of laughter that pushes me out of her grasp.

"Sensitive after," I say to stop the worry spreading across her face. "That was…so good." I actually don't remember the last time a simple hand job felt so fucking amazing.

Is it the way she's so fucking eager to please me? Or did I just let go and enjoy it because there's no greedy rush to the next event? It's obvious we're not going any farther tonight.

My tongue almost falls out of my mouth when I lower my gaze to her chest.

All she was wearing under that shirt was a completely sheer, pale pink bra that barely contains her ample breasts. Stiff, rosy nipples stab against the flimsy material, threatening to slice right through.

My mouth waters, eager to suck on the pink buds. She notices my stare and quickly jumps up, grabbing the cum-soaked shirt and hurrying out of the room.

Jesus Christ, at this rate, I'll have a PhD in patience when our lessons are finished.

The rush of running water comes from somewhere deeper in the apartment, then the bang of metal on metal. I tuck myself away and drag my body out of the chair. No sign of Margot yet. I walk over to the counter and finish my bottle of water.

"Did I do okay?" Margot returns wearing a rainbow-striped T-shirt.

I can't stop picturing what's underneath.

My brain processes her question. "Gold star. A-plus."

Her whole face lights up and she presses her palms together. She glides over the hardwood floor almost like a ballerina. When she's close enough, I pull her against me, wrapping my arms around her waist and settling my hands over the generous curve of her ass.

"You are really fucking good at that." I lean down and kiss her forehead. "Except for the part where you ran away at the end."

Her face falls.

Shit, I can't stand her making her unhappy for even a second.

Tentatively, she lifts her head, meeting my eyes. "I thought I should clean up. What should I have done instead?"

"Kiss me." I lean down and seal my mouth over hers. She squeaks in surprise then moans and drapes her arms around my neck.

After a minute, she pulls back. "Will you teach me to do that for you with my mouth, next?"

I groan with anticipation. "Fuck yes."

A shy frown creases her face. "I don't know if I can swallow, though."

"Jesus Christ," I groan. "Are you trying to get me hard again?"

"Is that possible?" She pulls back even farther to stare at my crotch.

"With you, yes." I place a finger under her chin, tipping her head up. "Eyes up here."

"So, I did okay? Nothing you think I should improve?" she asks.

Only because tonight's made me realize how sensitive she is, do I put a muzzle on my inner sarcastic asshole and answer in an even tone. "Why, do you want to take notes?"

"Should I?"

Emptiness spreads through my chest. She's only asking because she wants to wrap those perfect little hands around someone else's dick in the future.

Who cares? I fuck women all the time who plan to fuck another member of my club as soon as they're finished with me. Plenty of them badger me for a performance evaluation as they're walking out the door, too. Why does it bug me so much coming from Margot? Especially when that was the entire point of tonight?

She steps back and twists her fingers together. "Can we talk about a few parameters for our lessons?"

Yes, by all means, let's drive home the point that this is temporary. "Such as?"

"Um, I know this probably isn't fair and I do understand that men have needs, but could you not…you know… sleep with anyone else while our class is in session?"

Should I be offended, amused, flattered, or irritated by her request? "That depends."

"On what?"

I land on irritated, because I've been fucking my hand while thinking about Margot for weeks now. Not that I'd ever admit it to anyone. "How often are we having lessons?"

"Uh, as often as you think I need them? My schedule can be kind of hectic, then other times it's dead ." A sly smile creeps across her lips.

I chuckle at the pun. "Funny girl."

"I'll defer to your schedule."

"It changes from week to week. Really, I go where the club tells me I'm needed. Next week's probably the laundromat down in Union. This weekend's Crystal Ball to help out Dex."

She frowns slightly at Crystal Ball.

Is she fucking serious? "What, you don't want me to see other naked women during our arrangement either?"

"I didn't say that."

"I don't fuck the club's employees if it makes you feel better," I say with every bit of sarcasm in me this time.

"Okay." She stares at me, waiting for an answer to her original question.

No more fucking muffler bunnies at the clubhouse. No more blow jobs in the back room of the laundromat. No more… fuck it . None of that appeals to me right now anyway. Not when I want to teach the woman standing in front of me how to fuck like the queen she is. "Yeah, okay."

"Yeah, okay, what?" she presses.

Oh, you're gonna make me say it, huh? "I won't sleep with anyone else while we're," I wag one finger between the two of us, "doing whatever we're doing here."

"Thank you."

"Can I ask you something, though?"

"Sure."

"Is it a health thing or a jealousy thing." I'm such a dick for asking but I'm really curious about her answer.

Her eyes widen like a deer in the headlights, and she twists her fingers together. "Will you be mad if I say a little of both?"

"Why would that make me mad?"

"Well, you said you don't do relationships. Admitting it might make me jealous if you're…" She swallows hard like she can't even say the words. "That might tread into relationship-y territory." She slowly lifts her shoulders in an apologetic shrug.

Honesty. Margot couldn't lie if I pointed a gun at her. I like that in people. Brave too. She knew there was a chance I'd say fuck no to the whole arrangement, but she asked anyway. "I'm not mad."

She flicks her gaze to the kitchen behind me, like all this eye contact and honesty is too much to handle. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"No, I better get going."

She stares at me.

I'm not staying over unless she asks.

And she doesn't ask.