Control by Charlotte Stein

Author:Charlotte Stein [Stein, Charlotte]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Adult, BDSM, Erotica, Fiction, Menage, Romance
ISBN: 9780008148836
Google: 1Ia8CQAAQBAJ
Amazon: 1402289561
Publisher: HarperCollins UK
Published: 2015-08-26T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

I KEEP THE LIGHTS off, and get him to close the door. My bedroom curtains are always closed, so it’s very dim and quiet, once we’re inside. He trails his eyes over everything – the bed, covered only in a crisp white sheet. The books I have haphazardly stacked on the bedside chest of drawers, the small desk in the corner, the top of the wardrobe, the floor. It’s a jungle of books in here, I know.

Not much else, by way of decoration.

‘It’s lovely, in here,’ he says, because he’s clearly mad. ‘I can smell your perfume.’

‘Take your clothes off,’ I say, in reply.

His eyes flick back to me, suddenly stormy. I can see what the words do to him, even through the faint darkness. It’s been clear all along that he doesn’t like to be naked, but this is intense. I actually think he might refuse.

But in the end, he just goes with, ‘Will you take off yours, too?’

Before he starts peeling off his tank top. I watch it go over his head, glasses still on – of course! It almost makes me laugh, but I catch myself just in time. I don’t want him to feel any more awkward than he already clearly does.

I start unbuttoning my shirt, in sync with him. However, unlike me, he hesitates halfway down. His words come out ever so slightly unsteady.

‘Do I have to?’

‘Yes,’ I tell him and he grimaces, but continues unbuttoning his shirt. When he starts tugging it off his shoulders, the urge to ask him what, exactly, the hang-up is rings out strongly, inside me.

There’s nothing wrong with him, at all. His skin is gorgeous – I can tell, even in the low light. That same liquid paleness, everywhere, and then the sharp contrast of the dark hair all over him. It’s thick over his chest – much thicker than you’d suspect, when thinking about his passive demeanour – before trailing down in a thin line over his taut belly – so much like an arrow that I want to lick it, immediately.

But it’s clear that he doesn’t appreciate it as much as I do. He murmurs something about Andy’s relative smoothness, though I’ve no idea how he knows that. Was he checking him out, when Andy lifted his shirt? Specifically measuring the ratio of his hairiness to another man’s?

It makes me restless and agitated, to think that he doesn’t understand his own attractiveness. So I step forward, and touch him. He should be touched – it’s a crime that he hasn’t been. Or at least, I think he hasn’t been. He certainly shivers, when I run my hands over the rough fur all over his chest, and then up, to the strong shape of his shoulders.

When I get close to that curve of his lower back, he almost flinches away. But I insist, and smooth my hand over and around and down, to that sweet hollow just above his arse.

‘Madison,’ he moans, though I can’t tell if it’s a request for me to stop, or a need for more, or anything at all, really.

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