Page 64 of Casey

Me.

I’d known I’d like pain that much.

“Please.” I wasn’t begging for anything specific. I just needed more and Preston was the only one who could give it to me.

My master.

My lover.

Preston seemed to know I was tired of waiting—my desperation must have been obvious—because he made a low, soothing sound and his hands moved down to my pants. “I’m going to give you everything you need.”

I moaned again when his fingers skimmed along the edge of my pants. When his fingers dipped in under the waistband and teased at the edge of my panties, I whined and thrust forward, trying to get more. Preston just chuckled and brushed his finger over the head of my dick but refused to give me any more.

“If I’m not careful, you’re going to come again.” He was probably right, but that didn’t make me any more patient. “You’re not going to get to come until I’ve tasted every inch of you.”

I couldn’t decide if it was a promise of how thoroughly he would make love to me or a warning of how desperate I would get before he let me come. Either way, I couldn’t wait.

At some point I have to make a move, right? If he doesn’t then I should? I mean, I’ve changed so much over the past year (even you guys have said so) that I can make that step, right? It’s not huge. Well, it shouldn’t be huge because he emails me and we talk, so it wouldn’t come completely out of the blue.

I’m just not sure what to do. (And no, I will not take suggestions because last time we did that I ended up posting pictures of myself in lingerie all over the internet…well, all over my other page but still.) Part of me just says to find my courage and ask him out. But then the rest of my brain says that’s stupid and wants to hide under the bed, so I’m not sure asking him out is a good idea.

Can’t you just imagine me working up the nerve to ask him to dinner and then getting halfway through the sentence and just freezing up? I can. I woke up in a cold sweat last night after having a nightmare about it. But he’s really sweet to me, so I know the nightmare scenario wouldn’t really happen.

This would all be easier if I didn’t like him so much.

Two weeks until first date