Romance Test

One Step Forward

After a few minutes of slow, deep kisses, he moves onto her jaw and then dives down to her neck. She can feel his warm breath and his soft lips on her throat over her pulse. It's like he's tasting and savouring some pudding. It would be just like in one of her books, all tingly and sensual; but Emilia is a real life person, and she's so tense that her back muscles might start cramping soon. She's frantically digging through the memories of her conversations with Mistress Eva, erotica from her reading list, and those few tasteful videos she was suggested to watch. He straightens up, his scorching palm cups her face; and he brushes his thumb to the corner of her mouth.

"Are you enjoying it?" he asks.

Is this something super progressive that has to do with verbal consent – or dirty talk?! The first option is great and tells a lot about him as a man. Option B scares her witless.

"Yes! I am! I'm just—" She exhales through rounded lips. "I'm just nervous and don't know what to do."

Who says something like that to a man?!

"Just do what you want?" he offers.

"This implies that I'm supposed to know what I want," Emilia mutters. "But to know it I'd have to know what my choices are... and I don't! And in normal circumstances I would wing it and pray that I don't botch it up for you too soon, but since we're just doing research here, and we seem to be shockingly open with each other, I just—" She takes a spasmodic inhale, because she's spewed this anxious nonsense on one breath; and now she's almost dizzy. "And I literally asked you to bring me here to have sex, and now all I can think about is how we have to start having sex at some point. And I'm bricking it!"

Apparently, you weren't done with your verbal diarrhoea, Milly. Maybe, stuff something in your mouth. One of his stylish cloth napkins, for example.

"We don't have to do anything," he says and smiles at her. "We can go back to eating tiramisu. Or we can go for a walk."

"Do you want to go for a walk?" she asks in disbelief.

"No, I don't," he says and then pushes his hand in her hair. On the back of her head, just as it's always described. As if there's any other option.

It causes an avalanche of goosebumps to cascade down her back, and she feels a wave of heat rise in her cleavage and climb up her neck. Again, contrary to her expectations, just as in the romance novel cliché, one can feel hot and cold at the same time.

"Can you just—" Emilia licks her lips and braces herself. "Can you just kiss me and sort of— Can you just direct this?"

"Are you asking me to take control over our shag?" he asks – and this time it's definitely about consent.

You do remember that you met him in a BDSM sex club, don't you, Milly?!

"But also— Can we have a normal shag?" she asks in a small voice.

His palm slides at the back of her neck, and she squeezes her knees together.

"As opposed to what?"

His lips purse in a warm, amused smirk. The fact that he's so calm and that they're still talking makes her relax a bit.

"Well, I assume you have a kink, right?" She peers into his face but it's still schooled in the same calm amicable expression – except, he's just started stroking her skin with his thumb again, as if sending a weak electric current to buzz through her spine, down to her lower back, which she instinctively arches. "So, I reckon you've got a dungeon, or a special room, or—"

"It's a closet," he answers in an even tone.

Emilia gulps.

"But I assume you don't— don't have to use the stuff from the closet to have sex with me, right?" She throws him a sheepish look. "Because you said you find me attractive, so... would it still work if we just do it the boring way?"