The Berkeley Method by J. S. Taylor Read Free Book Online

around him.
    “I cannot believe how good it feels to be inside you,” he moans, and then with a final thrust, I feel him exploding inside of me.
    He rests forward on top of me, moving his hand to stroke my hair. Then he covers the side of my face with gentle kisses.
    “You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispers. “Having you bent over like this. I could hardly control myself.”
    I give a little smile of acknowledgement as his lips move over my face, and then he slides out of me carefully and lifts me up and around to face him.
    We’re stood, staring into each other’s eyes, panting in the aftermath of what we’ve just done. But there’s a sadness about James’s face now.
    “What is it?” I whisper.
    He smiles slightly.
    “I have strong feelings for you, Isabella,” he says.
    I feel my heart make a little flip of joy.
    “And I can’t believe that someone as sweet as you is brave enough to try a relationship with me.”
    A relationship? I inwardly hug myself.
    “I can’t keep away from you,” he says, “but I need to know that I’m not damaging you. I couldn’t bear to think I was taking you to somewhere dark.”
    What is he asking from me? I try to assess.
    “Are you worried that you’re demeaning me?” I say, after a moment.
    His face fills with pain, and he makes a tight little nod.
    I consider this. Do I feel demeaned? Bent over his desk? Having him spank me as a punishment? I certainly should.
    “I don’t feel like that,” I say slowly. “I don’t feel debased.”
    “Then how do you feel?” his eyes are searching my face urgently. “How do I make you feel, Isabella?”
    How does he make me feel? Like I’ve been asleep for a hundred years and I’ve just woken up .
    “Liberated,” I settle upon, “excited, adventurous, vulnerable.”
    He gives a shy smile. “I make you feel all that?”
    And so much more.
    “Yes, you do. It’s not a bad feeling. At least I don’t think so.” I frown, remembering how bad I felt when he went away.
    “I want you to understand that I would never wish to demean you by my actions,” he says. His voice is thick with sincerity.
    This is a little puzzling. What does he want?
    He senses my confusion.
    “It isn’t about making you my subordinate,” he clarifies.
    “Then what is it about?” I push, maximising this sudden surge of honesty.
    “Owning you,” he says, his eyes taking on a bright intensity, “making you completely mine.”
    His hand slides across the length of my body.
    “Taking you in this way is about me having control over you. I want you to give total trust over to me.”
    I frown. I’m not sure I like that.
    “I don’t know if I could surrender control to you,” I admit. “I know you’re old-fashioned. But I’m not. I’m a modern girl.”
    “Yes, you are,” he says with a little smile. “I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
    “But you do want me another way,” I press. “You want me to submit to you.”
    James gives a little sigh. “I think there is a greater desire in you for submission than you realise. And perhaps you have a different idea of what is meant by giving yourself to me.”
    He closes his eyes and opens them again.
    “I want to give you the world, Isabella,” he says, gazing into my face. “You only have to say what you want, and I’ll give it.”
    I think about this.
    “I like what you do to me,” I admit. My eyes are searching his. “But I want you to let me in. To know more about you.”
    To love you.
    He pauses for a moment, and then his expression changes.
    “That could be difficult,” he says.
    “Will you agree to try at least?” I press.
    “What is it you want?”
    I try to put it into words.
    “Romance,” I say finally, “tenderness.”
    He gives a pained smile.
    “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather a yacht. Or a diamond ring?” he asks.
    I laugh.
    “It would be easier, you know,” he admits.
    “I know,” I say softly. “But that isn’t what I want. Your money