What She Needs - Lacey Alexander [37]
In the meantime, though, if it pleasured her and allowed him to take her in new directions, he’d be the dominant lover she required. And he’d enjoy it, since being dominant in bed came naturally to him. “The main thing, sunshine, is what I keep telling you—you need to trust me. And you need to do what I tell you. You need to understand that anything I demand of you is ultimately going to pleasure you.”
“Maybe you make me do things that actually pleasure you,” she suggested, switching on her argumentative side, “but they really won’t pleasure me. Maybe people don’t take pleasure in the same things.”
He only sighed. Did she really think he was that dumb? “Of course they don’t—we all have certain things that get us off more than others. But again, everything I’m doing is for your own good.”
“Making me talk dirty? That’s something that turns guys on—but not girls.”
At this, he couldn’t contain a small laugh. Poor Jenna—she was so naïve in some ways. “Sunshine, I can assure you plenty of women are excited by dirty talk.”
She pursed her lips and looked him in the eye, appearing to weigh his words, deciding if she believed them. “Maybe it does a little more for me when you’re doing it—but I don’t enjoy doing it.”
He considered it progress that she’d even admitted that much. But she was missing the point. “For your information, making you talk dirty doesn’t have much to do with whether or not you enjoy it—maybe you will and maybe you won’t. Right now, it’s about getting over stigmas.”
She looked skeptical. “Stigmas? What do you mean?”
“You know you avoid certain words, sunshine.”
“Maybe I just don’t find them appealing,” she argued.
“Or maybe you’re afraid there’s something wrong with saying them.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s stupid.”
“Then say them.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so. Because if you can’t even say certain words, how are you ever going to attain real sexual freedom?”
“I can say them. You told me to say them and I said them.”
She had. But it had been a strain for her. And purely mechanical. “Well, from now on, I expect you to say them a lot more. I want you to start thinking of having sex as fucking, of my penis as my cock, and of your vagina as your pussy—or your cunt.”
She flinched, visibly.
And he said, “See? You’re afraid of the word.”
“I’m a writer, Brent, and for your information, words don’t scare me. But I happen to think of that particular word as a very derogatory term for women.”
“Then that’s a problem,” he said matter-of-factly, “because you should be thinking of it as what’s between your legs.” He reached down and flicked a fingertip through her slit for good measure, enjoying it perhaps a bit too much when she gasped in unbidden delight. “This is another example of how you’ve let one negative perception color your whole view. It’s a body part—a fucking beautiful body part. That’s all. You’ve given the word more power than it deserves, Jenna. Turn it into nothing but a body part and you’ve taken the power back.”
She said nothing, looking both stunned and as if—maybe, just maybe—she was realizing the truth in what he’d said.
“Tell me what’s between your legs,” he instructed.
“My . . . cunt,” she whispered.
“Very good,” he said softly in reply.
Just then, she drew in her breath, knit her brow. “Were you really mad at me for not, you know, shaving the very top, too?”
He grinned, conceding. “No. It looks incredible, by the way.”
She smiled as if she’d just caught him at something. “Aha! So that part was for you.”
He laughed at her sureness, then shook his head. “No. That, too, is for you. To make sure you’re very familiar with your body, comfortable with that part of yourself, fully in touch with the parts that bring you the most pleasure. And by the way, keep it shaved while you’re here.”
“Fine. But if you like it this way, how can you be sure it’s not at least partially for your benefit?”
He tilted his head, thinking it was cute