Dear Life(92)

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.

Yes. Hearing her makes me so damn hard. Tasting her makes me want to come right here, pants on. I try not to think about what lies ahead because I will lose it.

“Carter, oh my God. It feels so good. I . . . I, oh God.” Her scream echoes through my empty apartment. Her legs try to clamp around me again, and she squirms beneath me, her orgasm racing through her.

Watching her fall apart—her mouth open, her eyes closed tight, her hands in fists—fuck, it’s unbelievable. An image I’ll never be able to erase from my mind.

I don’t give her much time to recuperate, because I want her to feel as relaxed as possible for this next part.

Standing from the bed, I undo my belt, my eyes intent on hers, and then shuck off my jeans, my erection stretching the crotch of my boxer briefs. Shock registers across Daisy’s face in the most adorable way. Fuck, it makes me want to forget about my underwear and kiss her some more. But there will be time for that; we are running on borrowed time.

“You sure about this, Snowflake?”

She nods slowly, staring at my erection. I’m going to take that as a hell yes.

Giving her a show, I remove my boxer briefs and start stroking myself, only a few pulls though because I’m already on edge from feeling Daisy come on my tongue. In a box on the side of my bed, I find a condom that I quickly put on and then kneel on the bed in front of Daisy. Her skin is burned from my five-o’clock shadow, her lips swollen from my kisses, and her eyes wide with anticipation.

Taking the head of my cock, wanting to relax her a little bit more, I run it along her already wet slit, making sure to skim her nub. Like expected, her head melts once again into the mattress, her legs relax apart, giving me more access. I take advantage, using my cock as a tease against her sensitive clit.

Even though I know this feels good for her, and it’s doing exactly what I want it to, it’s fucking torture. So close, but never quite hitting the mark. My dick wants to punch itself from the torture. Just a few more passes. That’s all. Just a few more until . . .

The tip slides past her hole and I squeeze my eyes shut. Fuck, so close. Deep breaths. Take it slow.

Controlled, I ask, “Are you ready, Snowflake? It’s probably going to hurt at first. If it does too much, let me know and we’ll stop, okay?”

“Okay,” she says, her voice growing nervous again.

“Promise you will tell me to stop if you want me to.”

“I promise.”

I lean down and kiss her, moving my tongue against hers before saying, “Good girl. Now relax, I got you.”

She takes a deep breath and nods, giving me permission. Gritting down on my teeth, knowing this is going to be torturously good, I draw a few circles around her with the tip of my cock until I enter, one small inch at a time.

“Oh.” She shifts on the bed.