“You’re wearing a lot more clothes than I am, Michael.”

“Then take them off for me.”

Her eyes brightened, and a smile curved on her lips. As he’d known she would, his Stella really liked the idea of undressing him. She brushed her hands over the black silk of his vest before she pushed it over his shoulders and set it on the nightstand carefully—because it was his work, and she respected that. Such a simple thing, but it made him want to wrap her up and never let her go.

His shirt came off, was draped over the nightstand as well, and when her attention returned to him, she lost her focus. She ran greedy hands over his arms, chest, and abs, traced his tattoo. She kissed the dragon’s eye, licked it.

“I love your tattoo.”

“You don’t strike me as a tattoo girl.”

“It’s yours, Michael,” she said simply.

He pulled her hips against his and arched into her so she could feel what she did to him.

Her head fell back, and her body softened. Michael was good, but he’d never been this good. It was like Stella was made for him, specially designed to respond to him. Only him. The thought filled him with fierce possessiveness.

His hands grew rough as he touched her body, molding her to him as he claimed her mouth. The kiss was a savage thing of teeth and tongues, but she didn’t protest. Instead, she matched him roughness for roughness, kissed him until she was gasping.

He was unprepared when she stroked over the fly of his pants. Pleasure coursed through him in a heated wave. His cock jumped, and a hoarse groan tore from his throat. His stomach muscles flexed as he tried to catch his breath.

“I love this part of you,” she whispered with another stroke. “Show me how to make you feel good.”

Some vague sense of self-preservation told him to deny her, warned that he shouldn’t arm her with tools that would lead to his downfall, but as always, he couldn’t refuse her. He unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and withdrew the hard length of his cock, almost losing it when her eyes went dark with naked longing.

“Like this.” He wrapped her fingers around himself with a groan and taught her the rhythm he preferred, the pressure that drove him out of his mind, things he’d never shown his clients. They’d only cared about themselves.

Stella was different. Her entire being was focused on pleasing him. Because she wanted to learn how to do this for someone else or because he mattered to her like no one ever had? He knew which one it was. He still wanted her anyway.

He eased his hands down the swan line of her spine and hooked his thumbs in the elastic of her panties, pushed the material down her thighs. They were soaked clear through, and the scent of her arousal pushed him to the edge of his control. He almost spilled into her palm. She might be pleasuring him as part of her sex ed, but she was loving it, too. You couldn’t fake this kind of evidence.

After settling her back onto the bed, he tore her panties off, balled them up, and brought them to his nose to inhale her scent. “I’m keeping these.”

“They’re not—they’re—”

He spread her thighs wide and took in the sight of her beautiful pussy. Wet, swollen folds flushed deep pink and blossomed wide open for him. His fingers rubbed over her of their own volition and pushed into her.

Fuck, the heat, the tightness. So perfect for him. His body became one enormous ache of wanting.

“Stella, do you have any idea how hot your—”

“Michael,” she whined, bending her legs restlessly. “Don’t say it.”

He paused. Her words said no, but her body . . . Her chest heaved on ragged breaths, and she was clenched tight around his fingers.

“I think you like it when I talk dirty to you,” he whispered.

She shook her head frantically. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Your pussy doesn’t think so. You’re milking my fingers, Stella.”

She clenched even harder in response and arched her hips against his hand, driving him deeper.

“It’s y-your fingers. I love when you touch me.” She shut her eyes and ran her cheek over the sheets.

With his free hand, he caught her clit between his fingers and stroked, slow and sure. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and tightened around him. But not as violently as before.

His Stella liked to be spoken to. A lot.

That was fine. Michael liked to talk.

“I think it’s the words,” he said as he continued to stroke her with both of his hands. “It’s a shame you can’t see what you look like right now. My fingers are all the way inside your pussy, and you’re drenching my palm. Does it feel good?”

She bowed her back and bunched the sheets in her hands as she called out his name.

Her nipples caught his attention, and his tongue curled in his mouth as he remembered her taste and texture. “Do those candy nipples ache?”

She nodded, bumped her hips against him, and slid her hands up her belly to her tits. A frustrated sound tore from her throat as she pinched at the tips. She dropped her hands to her sides. “It only feels good when you do it.”

Because Stella’s mind needed to be seduced as much as her body, and apparently, her genius brain really liked Michael. He was just her practice boyfriend, but she responded to him like she’d never responded to anyone else.

He put them both out of torture and sucked a decadent nipple into his mouth. “You’re made of candy, Stella. Sweet, sweet, sweet.”

She rocked against his hands with increasing speed.

“Are you going to come for me so soon? I haven’t even licked your pussy yet.”

A whimpering sound escaped her lips, and her expression went pained. She locked down so hard he thought that was it, but after a breathless moment, her muscles eased.

“Maybe I should try out other words,” he whispered as he trailed his lips down her belly.

Tiny muscles fluttered around his fingers, and he knew she was close. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip as she threw her head back, inhaling sharply.

He touched his tongue to her clit before asking, “Is it your . . . box?”

“No.”

“Your . . . Lady V?”

She smiled into the blankets. “No.”

“Beautiful vagina.”

Her smile widened, and she shook her head.

He licked her again, sucked on her with the faintest pressure, and she arched against his mouth. Still, she hovered on the brink, exactly where he wanted her.

“I know.” He kissed her inner thigh. “It’s your . . .” He accented each word with a kiss upon her damp skin. “Wet. Hot. Sweet potato.”

She burst out laughing, and the sound worked into him and around him, fanning embers of happiness into full flame. He loved the sound of her laughter. He loved her smile. He loved—

He cut off that train of thought before it could finish. Now was not the time for thinking. It was time for feeling. He licked her clit into his mouth, and her laughter turned into a long moan. She wove her fingers into his hair, undulating against his face, and he willfully lost himself in her taste, her scent, her erotic sounds, and the feel of her on his tongue. Nothing was this good.

When she gripped his shoulders and pulled insistently, he looked up in confusion.

“Michael, I want it. I need it. Now. Please,” she said between heavy pants for breath.

“It?” Fuck, was she going to talk dirty to him?

She continued trying to drag him up over her. “I’m aching for you, Michael.”

Too shy, after all, but her words hit him just as hard. He had to take a moment to focus on breathing and not spilling all over the sheets before he climbed off the bed, turned her over, and pulled her hips to the edge of the mattress. This was the way she needed it. It was too personal for her to do it with him face to face. Maybe with her next man, she’d—

He distracted himself from that shitty image by running his hands over her generous ass. Their relationship was just practice for her, but this moment, right now, was real. “I love your bed, but it’s too low to the ground. There is something mine is perfect for.”

She buried her face in his sheets. “Now, please.”

But when he patted his pocket, it was empty. He groaned in disbelief. Forget blue or indigo. Violet. His balls were violet. “I don’t have a condom.” He was an escort, for fuck’s sake, and he’d forgotten a condom. He’d been too eager to see Stella to go through his regular pre-session checklist.