She watched him walk into the en-suite bathroom, and she became aware of his wealth. Peter had been disowned by his family, but he’d worked his way back up in the world. She wondered if all his money came from the club. Pushing the thoughts aside, she pulled the blanket underneath her chin, watching the door.
Hearing the water running, she imagined him na**d in the shower. She’d never seen a man na**d before, and her curiosity was getting the better of her.
Stay in bed.
I want to see him.
Making one final decision, she shoved the blanket off her and padded toward the bathroom. The light was on, and she pushed the door open. The glass of the shower door showed his na**d body. His body was smeared because of the style of glass, and she couldn’t make him out.
The shower shut off, and she knew she should turn away and get back into bed. She couldn’t move. Rose felt rooted to the spot.
The shower stall opened, and Peter was climbing out. His body was hard, ripped, and made her mouth water. He had several tattoos on his chest and down his body. She saw a love heart painted black and several words she couldn’t understand.
“Rose,” he said.
She stared at him surprised. Rose wouldn’t have pictured him with tattoos. Gazing down his body she saw his c**k thickening. Peter was getting hard before her very eyes. Licking her lips, she quickly returned her gaze to his.
He didn’t reach for a towel. They were both stood frozen staring at each other.
“I’ve never seen a na**d man before,” she said, blurting out the words.
His gaze moved down her body. “Take your nightshirt off.”
The order left his lips, and Rose stared at him shocked.
“What?”
“You’ve seen me. I think it’s fair I see you.”
“No, I thought you said nothing was going to happen?” she asked, unsure. Her hands itched to do what he asked. Rose always felt the need to please him.
“Nothing is going to happen. We can get na**d without anything happening.”
She stared into his eyes and lifted the nightshirt over her head. Rose felt her hair graze her bu**ocks as it fell around her. She wasn’t wearing any panties with her nightshirt.
“You’re so beautiful,” Peter said.
“Why did you get tattoos?” she asked.
“I like the feel of the needle on my skin.” He took a step toward her. She held her ground refusing to back away. “Do you like them?”
She kept her gaze locked on his. He stepped right up close to her. Licking her lips, Rose glanced down looking at each tattoo.
“They’re beautiful.”
“I love them. Touch them,” he said.
Jerking her gaze back up to his, Rose couldn’t be sure if she’d heard him correctly.
“You want me to touch you?”
In answer, he grabbed her hand and placed it on his chest. “I always want you to touch me, Rose. I’ve watched you putting books away, and I couldn’t stop myself from imagining what it would be like to have your hands on my body.”
Her hand was palm flat on his chest. She felt his heart beating rapidly in his chest.
“I never knew that,” she said, looking at him.
He felt warm. His chest was damp from the shower. Peter’s palms covered hers on his chest.
“Touch me, Rose.”
His hand moved hers up to his neck. She felt his pulse pounding, and then he brought her hand down to his chest. First one nipple pressed against her palm and then the other. Biting her lip she followed the path of her hand, going down.
“I’m going to touch you now, okay?” he asked.
She nodded, not really listening to him. He reached out touching her face. She caressed his abs moving down to grip the hard length of his cock.
He groaned. “Be careful with that. Light touches are better than not.”
Rose chuckled.
His hand moved down to cup her breast in his palm, and she couldn’t remember how to breathe.
Chapter Eight
“Breathe, Rose,” Peter said. His hand cupped her mound. Her hard nipple poked against his palm. His c**k hardened with renewed need. Rose’s small fist tightened on him. “Loosen your grip, baby.”
If she held him much tighter she threatened to cut off his circulation.
“Sorry, I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Peter smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.” Her blue eyes glittered up at him.
Her chest rose and fell with every indrawn breath she took.
“Do you like what I’m doing?” he asked.
“You’re not doing anything.”
He changed that, stroking her nipple with his finger. She gasped, staring down at where he touched her.
“It feels nice,” she said. Rose looked up at him, closing her eyes.
Peter came back to her. He was more than happy to leave tonight with nothing happening between them. Licking his lips, Peter knew he only had so much control. This was not about dominance. He wanted Rose, badly.
Moving her backwards, Peter turned the light on as he pushed her to the bed. She went back, her hand holding her steady.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
He stopped. “Do you want me?”
“Yes.”
“If you want me to stop you’ll say so.”
Her gaze met his. “I will.”
“Then lean back. Stop me if you get afraid. I’m going to show you how amazing two people can feel together.” He knelt on the bed, following her up.
She kept looking at his c**k and then at his face.
“Open your legs.”
Rose did as he asked, opening her thighs. Peter settled between them with his hands going either side of her head.
“Tell me what you’re feeling right now?” he asked.
“I’m nervous.”
“Why?”
“I’ve never done anything like this before. I don’t know what’s expected of me.”
“Are you frightened of me?” he asked, needing to know the answer.
“I could never be frightened of you, Peter.” Her hand rested on his cheek. She pulled away seconds later. Grabbing her hand in his, Peter pressed her palm against his cheek. Closing his eyes, he relished the sensation, moaning into her palm.
“I love it when you touch me.” Peter wasn’t lying. His body hummed with desire at the simple touch of her hands. Her voice made him hard. Everything about her made him rock hard.
“You’re a Dom. How can you settle with me?” she asked.
He smiled. “I’ve always been a Dom, baby, but I don’t need it. I do it because I enjoy it, but I can live without it.” He’d happily live without it if it meant having Rose by his side. In the last few hours he’d been freed, and he was the person to have put himself in the trap. He did love Laura, but he wasn’t in love with her. For the first time in his life he could be happy, truly happy without fear of not being whole.