Page 51 of Virtuous Vows
“Thank you,” I tell him as he pours me another glass.
“I haven’t done anything yet,” he says.
“You haven’t walked out.”
“Do you want me towalk out?”
“No. I told you… I want to be friends with you. Can we forget about everything before right now?” I ask.
“Forget?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Yes. Let’s start fresh. Be friends.”
“Most of my female friends, I fuck. Unless they work for me.”
“I work for you… and I’m no longer a virgin,” I remind him, smiling.
“Touché.” He sits back, and I take a sip of my wine. “But I also don’t get my friends’ lips tattooed near my cock.”
I choke, and his smile brightens up the entire fucking restaurant. He laughs as I gasp for breath and take another sip to push down the first one.
“Well, that’s also kind of crazy,” I add as I wipe at my mouth, mortified.
“I never said I was sane.”
I arch an eyebrow. “No, you give off this aura that you’re always in control.” I use my hands to articulate this imagined aura.
“Is that what you like about me, Honey? When I’m in control?” The insinuation of that question lingers in the air.
I try to avoid his gaze because, damn, sometimes he’s just too intense. I get it’s part of his job to be fawned over. But that’s not us—we’re just friends. “Stop trying to charm me.”
He chuckles. “Who said I was trying?”
I give him a mock glare that he finds equally humorous.
“Anyway…” I make a point to change the subject as I linger on the remaining thought of how strange it is that he tattooed my lips near his cock. “I googled how to soothedown there, and I feel good. But I don’t know who won me, and that is eating me alive a little because he requested a blindfold and, I don’t know… I was wondering if it’s enjoyable for a man when the woman is a virgin.” He chokes on his drink and covers his mouth at my question. “Was that too much?” I ask.
He waves a hand at me. “I get reprimanded for being charming, yet your directness, Miss Ricci, is alarming.”
“Shut up.” I laugh. “I’m serious.”
He stares at me for a moment longer, that expression darkening and heating again.
“Do you mean is it enjoyable for a cock to slide into a tight, untried pussy?”
I shrug, a little taken aback by his expression but never uncomfortable with it. Only regretting how my body responds to it. “Well, yeah.”
“Yes, sex is enjoyable full-stop, Honey. It’s fucking amazing. And let me assure you, if a man was willing to pay twenty million for it, you can be assured he most certainly enjoyed his time.”
I don’t know why, but that eases some of my tension and worry about what we did. Crazy to think I don’t even know who it was, but I want to somehow feel validated that I was worth all thatmoney.
It offers me confidence.
“The next time I have sex, will I enjoy it more?”
“So, you did enjoy it?” he asks, and I casually shrug again.
“I mean… yes and no. It stung, but it also felt good. So I wasn’t sure what it would feel like next time. And if I did it right in the first place.” I should be embarrassed as a twenty-seven-year-old asking these questions, but despite whatever Dawson and I are to each other, he’s never made me feel silly for asking a question.