She makes a hand gesture that does nothing to clarify her statement, but before I can ask, she continues, blushing a fiery red. “I was dry – down there. Every time he pushed into me it felt like he was tearing my skin. God, it hurt. After that he bought stuff to make it better, but never missed an opportunity to tell me that it’s because there’s something wrong with me that sex was so ‘uncomfortable’ for both of us.”
Agatha licks her lips, the gestures speaking volumes about how nervous she is. “So, now you know my dirty little secret. I’ve never had an orgasm during sex with a man because I’m clearly defective in some way.”
I’m speechless. Something that rarely occurs. Rage unlike any I’ve ever known bubbles through my system like acid. What I wouldn’t do for five minutes alone with this douchebag. I have to take a minute to breathe through it. The last thing I want to do is lash out at Agatha. She’s not the target of my anger.
So lost in my thoughts, I don’t realize how much time has passed until she whispers into the silence. “I’m sorry, Jessen. I should probably have said something sooner. I never meant for this to happen.”
I hold out an arm to her. “Come here, gorgeous.” Warmth floods me when she does. Dropping a kiss on her head, I hug her close to me. Simply just hold her to my side. I’m not sure if it’s more for her sake or my own.
We sit like that for some time before I shift so I can see her face. “I have so much I want – need – to say to you, I don’t even know where to start. I need one thing from you while I do.”
“What?” Her hands twist in her lap.
“I need you to look into my eyes and hold my gaze, no matter how badly you want to look away, okay? Please, I need you tohearevery last one of the words I’m about to say. Will you do that for me?”
She nods despite the uncertainty clearly stamped on her face.
“Dear God, there is so much wrong with this story I don’t even know where to start. But the one thing I need you to understand, above all else, is that none of this was ever on you. None. Of. It. Ever. The dysfunction in your sexual relationship with your ex had everything to do with him and nothing to do with you.”
Agatha scoffs at my words.
Jesus, this man did a number on her. He’s got her so convinced she’s the problem that I’ll have my work cut out making her believe any different. They say actions speak louder than words, but I still have a few I want to say to her before I get to work showing her what sex done right it supposed to be like.
“There’s not much I can say that’s going to change your mind. One thing Idoneed to say though. And that’s this. By definition, as you spelled it out for me earlier, someone who is deemed frigid is generally a cold, unaffectionate person who isn’t aroused by anything. For whatever reason. Those words are the very opposite of who you are.
“You are one of the most caring, funny, feisty, passionate people I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. There is no way in hell someone with those qualities is incapable of experiencing sexual pleasure. You can’t convince me otherwise.”
“I – don’t even know what to say to that. I …”
“You don’t need to say – or do – anything. Just let me show you how untrue those words are.”
Agatha’s brow furrows in the most adorable way. “But … How?”
“Before I answer that, let me ask you this. Have you made yourself orgasm?” I didn’t think it was possible for her face to get any redder, but it does. Just when I think she’s not going to answer, she nods. “Perfect.”
She looks so confused, so lost – so small – lying in the big bed, clutching the bedding to her as if it were her only defense.
“Lie back and allow me to demonstrate.” I grin, mainly because I’m suddenly excited to be the one who gets to show her the magic of sex done right. It’s almost like her first time all over again. Only this time I get to share in the moment.
I crawl between her silken thighs and drop to my stomach. My gaze settles on the pink, swollen lips of her pussy, already so wet and begging to be touched. Frigid, my fucking ass. With a deep breath, I inhale the scent of her arousal deep into my lungs and feel myself getting hard again.
Sliding my hands under the smooth globes of her ass, I tug her down onto the mattress, so she’s reclining before running my tongue over her clit. From between those luscious legs, I lift my eyes to her face and see Agatha’s mouth form a perfect O.
As I lap at her clit, I feel Agatha threading her fingers through my hair, her fingers clenching the strands almost as if to anchor herself. The tiny bite of pain has me grinning against the tight bundle of nerves beneath my tongue before nipping it gently.
Her tiny gasp makes me feel seven feet tall at the knowledge that pleasure is washing through her – a pleasure she’s not experienced with anyone else. And I’m thrilled to know I’m the one giving it to her. I hum with desire against the tight little bud and thrill at her full body shiver.
This is going to be so much fun.
14
AGATHA
Oh my God.
A man going down on me has never really been my thing. Mostly because it was never like this, but also because my fiancé hated it. As in with a capital H, hated it. He expected it – in his mind, it is a man’s right. But it wasn’t something he was happy to reciprocate.
I can’t say it was my favorite thing to do either. But this – holy shit, this isnothinglike I’ve ever experienced. And I have no idea what do with all these feelings that are building up inside me.
