Sin For Me, Mr. Virgin

CHAPTER 10 : Lesson One - Touch

==Delilah==

Eight PM.

Exactly.

The doorbell rang and my heart jumped into my throat.

I'd been ready for an hour. Changed my outfit three times. Settled on a silk robe. Navy blue. Simple. Easy to remove.

Professional.

Except there was nothing professional about the matching lace underneath. Or the fact that I'd been wet since this afternoon thinking about tonight.

I opened the door.

Elliot stood there. Button down shirt. Dark jeans. Hair slightly damp like he'd showered recently.

His eyes went straight to my robe. Widened.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi."

"I'm on time."

"You are."

"Last night I was early. Tonight I wanted to follow the rules."

"Good boy."

The words slipped out. A praise kink I didn't know I had.

His pupils dilated. "Should I. Can I come in?"

"Yes. Please."

He stepped inside. I closed the door behind him.

Locked it.

The click sounded loud in the quiet.

"Did you think about last night?" I asked.

"I thought about nothing else."

"And?"

"And I want more."

"More kissing?"

"More everything."

Heat flooded through me. "Follow me."

I led him to my bedroom. King size bed. Dim lighting. Candles on the nightstand.

I'd set the mood. Couldn't help myself.

"This is," he started. Stopped. "This is really happening."

"Do you want it to happen?"

"Yes. God yes."

"Then sit."

I gestured to the edge of the bed. He sat. Hands on his knees. Nervous energy radiating off him.

I stood in front of him. Close enough that my legs almost touched his knees.

"Lesson one," I said. "Touch."

"Okay."

"I'm going to teach you how to map a woman's body. How to learn what she likes through her responses."

"My body specifically?"

"My body specifically."

His throat worked. "Where do I start?"

"Wherever you want. But ask first. Consent is constant."

"Can I. Can I touch your legs?"

"Yes."

His hands came to my calves. Warm. Slightly rough.

He moved slowly up. Over my knees. To my thighs.

The robe ended mid thigh. His fingers found bare skin.

"You're soft," he murmured.

"Keep going."

His hands slid higher. Stopped at the edge of the robe.

"May I?"

"Not yet. Touch over the fabric first."

His hands moved up. Over the silk. Traced my hips. My waist.

"Good," I said. "Pay attention to how I'm breathing. How my body responds."

"You tensed when I touched your waist."

"Did I?"

"Yes. Just slightly. Does that mean you don't like it?"

"It means I'm very aware of your hands."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Very good."

His hands continued exploring. Over the robe. Learning the shape of me.

Up my sides. Careful. Deliberate.

He reached the underside of my breasts. Stopped.

"May I?" he asked again.

"Yes."

His palms cupped my breasts through the silk. Gentle at first. Testing.

I made a sound. Small. Involuntary.

"You like that," he said.

"Yes."

"What else do you like?"

"Firmer. And. Use your thumbs. Find my nipples."

He did. Thumbs brushing over the peaks through the fabric.

They were already hard. Had been since I opened the door.

"Like this?" he asked.

"Exactly like that."

He continued. Exploring. Learning. His touch growing more confident.

"Your breathing changed," he observed. "Faster."

"Because it feels good."

"Tell me what to do next."

"Open the robe."

His hands stilled. "Are you sure?"

"Very sure. Untie it. Slowly."

His fingers found the belt. Pulled the knot loose.

The robe fell open.

I was wearing a black lace bra. Matching panties. Nothing else.

His breath stopped.

"Delilah."

"Touch me. Under the robe this time. Skin to skin."

His hands trembled as they slid inside the silk. Found my bare waist.

The contact was electric.

Skin on skin. Finally.

"You're warm," he said.

"I'm turned on."

"From this?"

"From you."

His hands explored. More confident now. Sliding up my sides. Tracing my ribs.

"May I. Your bra. Can I?"

"Touch over it first. Learn what I like."

His hands cupped my breasts again. This time only lace between us.

He could feel how hard my n*****s were. How my chest rose and fell rapidly.

"You're beautiful," he whispered.

"Elliot."

"I mean it. You're. I can't believe you're letting me do this."

"I'm not letting you. I'm teaching you. There's a difference."

"What's the difference?"

"Letting implies permission. Teaching implies participation. I want this as much as you do."

Something shifted in his eyes. Understanding. Relief.

"Can I take this off?" His fingers traced the edge of my bra.

"Yes."

He reached around. Fumbled with the clasp.

"It's. I don't know how."

"Two hooks. Push together then pull."

He tried. Failed. Tried again.

The bra came loose.

I shrugged it off. Let it fall.

His eyes went wide. Fixed on my bare breasts.

"Touch me," I said.

His hands moved slowly. Reverently. Cupped my breasts like they were precious.

"Tell me what to do," he said.

"What do you want to do?"

"Everything. I want to learn everything."

"Start with your hands. Feel the weight. The texture. How they respond to different pressure."

He explored. Gentle touches. Then firmer. His thumbs found my n*****s. Circled them.

I gasped.

"That?" he asked.

"Yes. More of that."

He focused there. Learned what made me respond. What pressure. What speed.

I was getting wetter by the second.

"Can I. My mouth. Can I use my mouth?"

"Yes. Please."

He leaned forward. Kissed the swell of my breast. Soft. Tentative.

"Don't be afraid to use your tongue," I said.

He did. Traced around my n****e. Then over it.

My hands fisted in his hair.

"Is this right?" he asked against my skin.

"Perfect. Now suck."

He drew my n****e into his mouth. Gentle suction.

I moaned. Actually moaned.

He looked up at me. Eyes dark. "You like that."

"I love that."

"What else do you love?"

"Touch me lower."

"Where?"

"You know where."

His hands slid down. Over my stomach. Trembling slightly.

Stopped at the edge of my panties.

"May I?"

This was it. The moment I'd been thinking about for days.

"Yes. Touch me, Elliot. Learn what I like."