I slapped his chest. “Kai, be serious.”
He grabbed my breast in retaliation, gripping it tightly between his fingers. My face pinched a little as pain and pleasure mingled within me.
“I’m serious about you,” he said, letting go of me. The relief was short-lived; he pinched my nipple, tugging on it.
“Kai.”
“I won’t be hurt or killed. If something happens to me, who will look after you? Protect you? No, you’re mine, and I always take care of what’s mine.”
He let go of my nipple and stroked it teasingly.
I gripped his forearm, feeling myself grow wet.
“Tell me you understand,” he said firmly.
I closed my eyes. “I-I understand.”
“Such a good girl.”
He let go of me and wrapped his arms around me once more, pulling me closer to his naked body.
My hands accidentally brushed his cock.
He sucked in a sharp breath but didn’t say anything. I met his eyes, and slowly, hesitantly, I wrapped my hand around his dick. He was so big, my fingers barely closed around him.
Slowly, I pumped up and down his length.
“Is this okay?” I asked.
He nodded silently, his face etched in pleasure and something else. Something I wasn’t sure about.
I moved a little faster, and a sharp breath of air escaped between his teeth.
Gently, he took my hand away.
I looked at him questioningly, wondering why he never asked me to touch him, or give him a blow job.
Sighing, he turned me around so my back was against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around my middle, his hand resting on my stomach.
I didn’t tense as much anymore when he touched me there. I was gradually getting used to his touch. But would he ever get used to mine?
“I usually don’t let anyone touch me,” he said.
“Why?”
He made a sound that resembled a laugh. “Because I’m controlling. I like control over my life. In all aspects, from what I do, to who I invite over to my place, and who and how I fuck. The women I’ve slept with were usually tied up, so I wouldn’t be surprised by their touch.”
“But why? Is it… trauma?”
Again he laughed, but it sounded odd. “Are you asking if my mom ever touched me?”
I bit my lip.
“No,” he said, and I relaxed. “She wouldn’t dare. She knew if she touched either Braxton—my brother—or me that Dad would have killed her.”
“So you just don’t like it when other people touch you?”
He nodded against me.
