Is This What I Want? Read Online Free PDF

another time?”
    He nodded, eyes still locked on mine, and moved closer to me.
    “Teach me,” he said at such a low volume that I barely heard him.
    I didn’t understand at first. He ran his hand along my jaw line and then moved it to my lips, tracing them with his middle finger.
    I had to look away. My eyes found a distraction in the form of a tiny spider crawling up the pine IKEA bookcase.
    Rick turned me to face him, as he waited for my response.
    “I should never have said… I have no right…”
    “Of course you have a right. But I have feelings, you know? I try to be tough, but sometimes the things you say, or just the way you say them…” I closed my eyes, his pain and my pain flooding into my immediate awareness, all mixed up with the alcohol coursing through my blood.
    My heart rate started to rise. I looked at him, taking in his salt and caramel hair, so full and soft. Suddenly I had to caress it with both hands. He leaned his head forward to welcome my touch. His sweet blue eyes revealed his vulnerability in the moment—the same eyes in which I had seen anger, disappointment, confusion, so many intense emotions in the recent months of our tumultuous journey.
    I felt nervous, insecure, unequipped. Yes, I was a teacher. But I didn’t know how to teach this . Still, he sat waiting.
    I massaged his temples and moved my hands lower, along his neck and back up to his chin, which I drew toward me.
    I touched my lips to his softly and kept them there for several seconds before pulling back. I smiled, thinking I might actually enjoy this.
    I kissed him again, pressing just a tiny bit harder and then moved away again, looking into his eyes, which showed complete submission. His lack of response only made me want more. I repeatedly touched our lips together, still barely making contact, and finally I felt the subtle sensation of his lips pushing back against mine, but only for a split second before he was still again.
    I became aware of my nipples as they hardened and extended out to brush against the inside of my bra. Rick sat there, a block of clay waiting to be molded.
    I kissed him over and over, feeling a little guilty that I was moving so slow, but proud of myself for taking full advantage of his invitation to let me take control. We must have kissed for five minutes without the involvement of a single body part other than our lips. Even I couldn’t stand it any longer at that point. My breasts ached to be touched or at least pressed against his hard, bare chest. My thighs tingled and stiffened as the sensations traveling up and down my legs intensified. But every stitch of our clothing remained intact and I kept my eyes averted from the bulge in his pants, telling myself that I now had the power to create exactly the long, slow build up I craved.
    His breathing was heavy, but it was clear he wouldn’t make a move. It was up to me to initiate every step.
    I climbed on top of his lap and grabbed his face, pulling it into mine. I was done with gentle kissing. My lips hit his with so much force that my tooth pierced my bottom lip. Not wanting to remove my mouth from his, I inserted my index finger and swabbed the area, pulling it out to see a drop of blood from the corner of my eye. He saw it too and it had the same effect on both of us. I kissed him harder and searched for his tongue with mine. He held back, unwilling to accept the invitation at first. So I continued, opening my mouth wider and plunging deeper, commanding him to join the dance.
    Our kissing was almost violent now and I realized I liked it that way but I just needed to work up to it. I was on top of him pressing my fully clothed breasts hard into his muscular frame underneath me. I stopped abruptly and sat straight up on his lap, reaching to pull up his tee shirt from behind. He pushed my hands away, saying, “I thought you wanted to go slower.” This was too much.
    Maybe seeing a little of me will weaken him, I thought, as I slowly raised