“Take off everything but the shoes, and bend over the bed.”

Her natural impulse was to talk. To say something. To ask what he wanted next. She didn’t know what he planned to do, but as she stood, she realized that was the point. He hadn’t told her. The anticipation was its own aphrodisiac. He kicked off his shoes and jeans as she stripped down. As she reached for the clasp on her bra, the reality of what they were doing reared its head again. She was about to be naked in front of him. She wasn’t ashamed of her body at all, but this was another turning point in their relationship. From this point on, he’d always know what she looked like naked.

Carpe diem, she told herself, as she unhooked her bra and tossed it on the floor.

His lips parted as his eyes roamed her body, his gaze finally hooking on her breasts. She dipped her thumbs into the side of her panties, and was about to pull them off, when he placed his hands over hers.

He dipped his head to her neck and pressed a soft kiss to her collarbone. That seemed to be his favorite spot on her. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her skin, and a sweet rush of tingles spread through her from his tender words. Cupping her breasts, he whispered, “I can’t resist touching them.”

Desire ricocheted inside her. “I like it,” she said, fully aware that they were breaking character, but she knew he was okay with it, because he’d broken first. And truth be told, she loved his unfettered reaction to her body. She loved that he simply had to give in, and hell, did he give in as he squeezed and kneaded her breasts so expertly that she was about to shout take me now.

That would defeat the purpose of this lesson, so she simply let herself exist in the exquisite pleasure of this moment, and of Nate worshipping her body.

Until he returned to that voice he’d used before.

“Now turn around, put your hands on the bed and bend over for me.”

“But you told me to take off my underwear, and it’s still on.”

“I changed my mind. I want to take it off. Turn around now.”

She did, placing her hands on the edge of the bed, bending her back for him, her ass in the air. So many words started to take shape on her tongue—are you going to fuck me, are you going to touch me, are you going to taste me . . .?

She shut her mouth, trying to truly free her mind of the need to know everything.

“Close your eyes,” he told her, and she did. Now it was all in the waiting. The room was dark, there was no music—it was only the two of them, and the possibilities.

His hands traced a warm path on her back, making her tremble. When he reached her ass, he cupped her cheeks and groaned. Then she felt a whoosh of air between her legs, his warm breath as he blew. Oh God, what was he doing to her? She was throbbing between her legs, hot and damp and absolutely aching for him. His fingers curled into the band of her panties. He inched them over her cheeks, down her thighs, to her knees. She started to step out of them, but he grasped her ankles firmly in place, a reminder that he was in charge. He left the panties at her ankles.