I didn’t expect to maul her in the back alley, on my bike, soaking in her innocence in that stupid bike helmet.
I didn’t expect to want to own her so damn bad that I claimed her as my girlfriend.
I didn’t expect to drive home and love the feeling of her arms wrapped tightly around me, her giggle floating in and out of my ear.
I didn’t expect Daisy to hold my hand and guide me to my bed, a saunter in her step I’ve never seen before.
And fuck, I didn’t expect to have the purest beauty ever, spread beneath me, willing and waiting for me to explore her body.
But here I am, Daisy’s eyes are filled with lust, her hair is fanned across one of my pillow, and the moonlight dances through my un-curtained windows.
“Carter?”
“Hmm?” I ask, my fingers digging into her skin, my tongue racing around her nipple.
“Why am I naked and you’re fully clothed?”
“Because.” I bite down on her nipple, her chest rising from the nibble. “I told you I was going to make it up to you. That means I need you naked.”
“I’m feeling a little self-conscious.”
“No need to. You’re fucking gorgeous.”
“Not just about being naked.” Her voice wavers with nerves so I sit up, begrudgingly giving her nipple a rest.
“What’s going on?”
Looking away, she mumbles something I can’t quite hear.
“You’re going to have to speak up, Snowflake. Didn’t quite catch that.”
Still avoiding eye contact, this time her hands going over her eyes, she talks past her palms. “I was hoping to go all the way with you.” Even with her hands blocking her face, I can tell she’s embarrassed.
Her request knocks me back a few pegs. Go all the way with her. That’s a giant responsibility, and I’m not sure I’m the right man for it. I know the difference between us; I’m not blind in thinking she’s on the same playing field as me. She’s not. She’s on an entirely different level of potential.
I know there is someone better out there for her, someone who isn’t doomed to be a line cook the rest of his life. Someone who has a future, who doesn’t carry around a bottle of rage with him, who is one step up from living in the gutter.
But hell, I don’t want her to be with anyone else. And I sure as shit don’t want anyone else touching her, being the one to take her virginity. The notion of that happening gives me blind rage. I wasn’t fucking around when I said she was my girlfriend.
“You have to say something. I’m dying inside right now.”
Those eyes, those lips, that heart. Fuck, I have to have it all.
Own you. I’m going to do that. I’m a selfish prick wanting to fulfill my own agenda. I own up to that, and I’m taking what I want. Daisy. I want all of her.
Sitting up, I keep my eyes fixed on her as I reach behind me and grab my shirt, pulling it over my head and tossing it to the side. Daisy’s reaction is priceless as she takes me in, from my multiple tattoos that mean nothing more than the trials and tribulations I’ve gone through, to my well-defined chest that I work hard to obtain, especially given my profession of having to taste food constantly.
“That better?”
She swallows hard, her throat constricting and releasing. “Uh, you still have your jeans on.”
I settle between her legs. “Yeah, we’ll get to that, but first, I need to taste you.” I lower my head only for her legs to clamp my head in a viselike lock. With my index finger I tap her on the stomach, as if I’m knocking for entrance. “You’ve got to unclench there, sweet cheeks.”
“I’m nervous,” she responds, her voice shaky, knocking me back on my knees.
Fuck, this is going to be hard. I want to devour her but I need to also take my time. Her body deserves to be worshipped.
“No need to be nervous, Snowflake. It’s me. I’m not going to hurt you.”
She nods, tears welling in her eyes.
“Hey.” Lining up our bodies, I move so I’m hovering just above her, my face next to hers. “Don’t cry. We don’t have to do this. I’m happy with just making out with you. Maybe a little boob grab.” I smirk, trying to lighten the mood.
“I want to do this. I’m just nervous.”
“That’s normal. I really don’t mind waiting, Daisy. I don’t want you to think we have to do this. Like I said, your lips on mine make me one happy man.”
She shakes her head. “Thank you, but I want to move to the next step. Do you want to have sex with me?”
She’s so vulnerable right now, so unsure. How could that be possible? I thought I’d made a pretty good point in showing her how much I want her. Guess I need to try harder.
“Do I want to have sex with you?” My hand slides down her ribcage and back up again where it circles her nipple. Her breath hitches from the light touch of my finger pads. “Do I want to own this body as my own?” One circle, two, three, and then a pinch. Her chest rises. “Do I want to know what it feels like to have you connect with me in the most intimate way possible?” My lips trail kisses down her neck to her breasts where I run my tongue along her hardened nubs, squeezing her with every lap. “More than fucking anything. I want you more than anything. I crave you, like a piece of me is missing that only you can fill.”
Pulling all my focus to her chest, I try to get her to relax, and with every kiss, every suck, every squeeze, she does just that. Her head rests into the pillow, her legs spread wide, her center casually riding against my jean-clad leg, and her hands find my head where her fingers tangle with my hair.
I continue to pay attention to her nipples because, fuck, she has amazing tits. You would’ve never known in those quilted vests and turtlenecks.
Feeling her body start to relax, I work my way back down her stomach, my hands still working her breasts to keep her distracted, my lips tasting her sweet skin. It’s so soft, so velvety.
I get lost in the way she moves under me with each touch of my lips, the little faint sounds coming from her sweet mouth, and the way her hands rifle through my hair, as if she’s unsure how else to handle the thoughts and feelings rushing through her.
There is no pause in my actions. I flow from her stomach, past her pubic bone, straight to her slick center. This woman—so perfect in my hands, so beautiful. I can’t keep myself from diving in. With my fingers, I spread her lips and dip my tongue. I catch her off guard because she leaps in place, her hands no longer in my hair. I don’t give her much time to think, though, because with my spare hand, I press down on her stomach, giving her no wiggle room while I lap her up and down. God, she tastes so sweet on my tongue.
Yes, I knew she would taste so fucking good. I could tell she would have the sweetest damn pussy. Her taste spurs me on, along with her cries. I trade between long leisurely strokes to short quick flicks across her nub, that tight bundle of nerves.
“Oh my gosh. Oh God.” Her hips undulate. “Oh God!” She gets louder.