Practice makes perfect, after all

Note: Alternate take on a screenshot from Chapter 13, Khaan in a bedroom saying “Say no more. I’ve got you. Practice makes perfect, after all.” He’s not talking to MC there, obviously, since he’s giving the freezing cold shoulder all chapter long.

I’m not native English-speaker, so please forgive me for any mistakes or spelling errors that might occur.

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Ivie was idly browsing the internet on the laptop left open on Khaan’s dining table. She’d found out her petsonality (bold and eager tiger) and used the colour and style of her underwear as a fortune cookie (black, comfortable – a tall, dark handsome is getting close).

She lifted her eyes when she sensed someone approaching. It was the owner of the cozy apartment they all were hiding in. Khaan, tall, dark and handsome Khaan, careless manbun on top of his head, comfy clothes hanging around his steel-hard yoga-pose-perfect body. There was something dangerous hiding beneath his divinely peaceful appearance. Ivie swallowed.

“Do you need help?” Khaan gave Ivie a friendly smile and sipped the fragrant tea he was holding. Ivie stared at him with blank eyes. Help with what?

Khaan walked to her side and leaned in close to see the page open on the laptop’s screen. The steam from his cup made Ivie’s cheeks blush a bit. Help with what? Her eyes turned to the screen.

“What on Eros’ files lead you to this?”

Khaan’s face was an indescribable mask, his body suddenly too close to Ivie’s to handle. The files. She’d promised to do some research on key words written down by Sloane, found on Eros files they’d stolen. One thing lead to another and finally she had ended up on… omg wtf lol. None of the millennial abbreviations seemed to cover the flow of her feelings at this moment.

“I… ,” Ivie started. No more words came out.

Slowly Khaan placed his tea cup down on the table and his still hot hand on top of Ivie’s hand on the keyboard. Ivie froze, regardless of the heat. She had longed for his touch for so long, since the first glimpse of him at the release party. She had dreamed of this a zillion times, on planes and trains, on beds and couches, on cities and on the beach. Khaan touching her with want in his eyes. But this… she couldn’t handle this. She didn’t know anything of-

“Tantric sex.”

Ivie forced herself to lift her chin up and face Khaan. Could she fake it? It couldn’t be that hard, could it? Just stay still and orgasm inwards and… Ivie tried to read as fast as she could but the page ended and she wouldn’t scroll down for the life of it.

Khaan laughed. Warmly and deeply and straight to her face. There was something different about him today, something more relaxed and sure of his place in the universe than usually. His little Sprout was having a day of his life with Hayden and Sloane and Damien. The first three of them had never been to a rollercoaster before and Damien, in the role of a bodyguard, had taken them to a place nearby.

It was just the two of them now, maybe for the first time ever. Something in Ivie’s gut felt like she was the one on top of the ride, waiting for free fall.

“Are you laughing at me?” Ivie demanded, eyes blaring. Khaan nodded and shook his head at the same time. It was a funny shudder that made Ivie laugh, too.

“Have you ever tried it?” Khaan watched her closely, lips seeming to move softly, even after he stopped talking.

“No, I have not.” Ivie felt suddenly more brave than before. Something in Khaan’s eyes promised her things she could not yet put to words.

“Do you want to try it?”

“Like… ever? Yes, one day, why not.”

“How about now.” It wasn’t actually a question, but a thought escaping his lips.

“I have never done it. I’m not good. I can’t do it. Myself. To you. To me.” Khaan placed one long finger hovering across her lips. Ivie kept on talking. “Yes. Now.”

“It’s charming how wordy you get when you’re nervous. Say no more. I’ve got you. Practice makes perfect, after all.”

Khaan pulled Ivie standing. They moved to the living room area, on top of the colourful soft rug.

“Sit down in front of me.” Khaan’s words where a strange mix of plead and order and willingly Ivie complied. It felt like Khaan sat down behind her. His placed his hands on her shoulder blades, lightly, barely touching. “Breath in and out, deep breaths.” In the pace of her intakes and exhales she felt the touch get heavier and lighter. She started to lean on his hands, not even noticing it.

His grip grew stronger and he lifted his palms on top of her tense shoulders. His breathing was quicker than hers, as if doing an exercise near his maximum limit.

“Turn around.” Khaan guided her, until she was straddling his lap. Ivie felt him being hard inside his soft pants. He lifted his hands to the nape of her neck, up among her hair and pulled his hands to fists, slowly, softly, near her scalp, making her moan deep in her throat.

“Now, when I breath in, you breath out and vice versa.” His voice was hoarser than usually, not as calm and collected, somehow primal. Ivie nodded, forcing a deliciously stingy pull from his hands in her roots.

With every alternate breath they fell closer together. Ivie breathed in his breath, breathed him in. It didn’t take long until their lips touched, melted together in the most wonderful kiss Ivie had ever experienced. His beard scratched her skin, and it contrasted the softness of his lips perfectly. He slipped his surprisingly cold fingers inside her shirt, into her hot skin. His touches were light as a feather, as a breath, but his grips were hard and hungry. Ivie did not know anymore who was breathing in and who out, was he pulling her towards him or was she pushing herself against him. Every time she tried to pick up the pace, to rush the kisses, he slowed down.

“Khaan.” Was it a plead? A command? Ivie didn’t know.

“Yes?” He pulled away and looked her in the eye. He was in control again, of himself, of situation. Of her, of course.

“Please.”

“Practise is over for today.” Khaan said and started to get up.

For a moment Ivie felt cold pit in her stomach grow to swallow her whole. Then she felt him pulling her up with him, into his arms, legs around his narrow hips. Khaan pushed her against the wall grinding his still clothed hips into hers, biting her shoulder through her shirt.

“You, Ivie, make me hungry. Restless. Greedy.” It sounded like accusation, coming from his ever calm face, but every word was followed by a tender stroke on her cheek, her breast, her tigh.

“This is not how I pictured it. Against the wall, out of control, stripped of all grace and serenity.” Khaan tried to sound disappointed.

“This is exactly how I pictured it,” Ivie panted and rubbed her core against Khaan’s. He groaned, pulled down his pants (nothing underneath!) and set Ivie down for a hasty few seconds for her to undress her jeans and black panties. Up again she went.

Khaan looked at her face when he pushed in. Their shirts sticked to their sweaty bodies and tangled to each other as he started moving, fast and hard. She was now supported against the wall so he freed one of his hands from her hips and slid his fingers between her legs. Because of the force and speed, his touch wasn’t right on the spot but it was this that made Ivie go over the edge – feeling this scarily calm and collected man slipping. He also came, loudly.

Later, Ivie returned to the laptop still not wearing bottom half of her clothing. Khaan was standing close to her, fully dressed, holding now cold cup of tea.

“It says here tantric sex is not about the goal but all about the trip. It’s supposed to be slow and deliberate and controlled. You were not very good at it.” Ivie made a mocking pout, still high on the feeling of her dreams coming true.

“Practice makes perfect.” Khaan smiled, inwards, to himself as typical. And walked away.