Page 56 of Praised
“We both had preconceived ideas the first night we spent together. I think that’s fair to say about anyone.”
“But I kept carrying them.” He covered his face with his hands, and I swatted them out of the way, grabbing both of his slender wrists between my fingers and pinning them to his lap. His nostrils flared and his lips parted.
“Are you still?”
He shook his head.
“Neither am I.” I tightened my hold around his wrists. “Would you feel better if we started over?”
“Started over how?”
I needed to let go of him, but I didn’t want to.
“My name is Flynn Galloway, and I very much would like to kiss you right now.”
“What’s your favorite movie?” he asked, wiggling his wrists out of my grip.
“What?”
“Favorite movie,” he repeated, like it was a logical answer to my kissing statement.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d watched it, but I gave him my answer just the same, “Midnight in Paris.”
“I’m Ambrose Baker, but you can call me Rose.” He got his hands loose and moved quickly, flinging one slim leg over my lap and straddling me before taking my face into his hands. Our noses brushed together and I watched his eyes flutter closed, the long fan of his lashes hiding the gorgeous blue sky of his irises.
“Rose.”
I barely managed his name before his mouth was on mine. He kissed mesimilar to the way he did on the first night, but with all of the want and none of the hesitation. Grinding his hips down hard against my lap, I raised up, pressing one hand against the middle of his back and the other his waist. With my fingers splayed, I dug my nails into his skin, opening my lips wider and allowing him to steer the kiss. Rose let his hands slide away from my face, working their way between our bodies. His fingers were treacherously close to my erection when my brain cleared enough for me to realize that once again, I’d let him take control.
“Slow down.” I grabbed his wrists again, moving his arms and pinning them down at the small of his back. The shift caused his back to arch, and he angled his chin up so he was looking down at me.
“I don’t want to go slow,” he whined, swirling his hips. “You make me unfairly hard.”
“We just met,” I reminded him, hoping to call back the spirit of starting over that we’d led in with.
Rose made a disgruntled sound, shoulders going sluggish.
“I need you to know that I’m not looking for anything casual,” I whispered.
He dropped his forehead against mine and let out a quiet whimper. If I was getting a second chance at starting over, I was going to rewrite our history into what he’d deserved all along. What both of us deserved.
“But I am a dominant man, and there’s something I refuse to compromise on.”
Rose went soft against me, save for the long and hard erection between his legs. His breath puffed against my cheek in a warm, slow rhythm that could have put me to sleep for how comfortable it was.
“What’s that?”
“I’m in charge.”
Rose snorted, the sound lodged as deep in the back of his throat as I wanted to shove my cock.
“And what does that mean exactly?” He purred the question, nuzzling his face against mine, rubbing his chest against my front, doing everything to gyrate and grind on me without using his hands to touch.
Fuck, he made it impossible to think.
“What does that mean?” I grunted, pushing up off the couch and taking Rose with me, only to pivot and drop him down onto his back. I arranged myself between his legs, his hands now pinned against the arm of the couch behind his head. His eyes went wide, nostrils flaring as he felt the hard ridge of my cock push against his leg. “It means that you do what you’re told and I make sure you feel. Really. Fucking. Good. While you’re doing it.”
I punctuated my words with gentle nips against the underside of his jaw, and he answered with a moan so wanton I was confident the message had been received.
