Hothouse Flower (Addicted #4)(72)

I go off.

And I come for the very first time.

Finally.

He keeps me full while my breath slows and I clench a few more times.

I laugh because that was one of the best things I’ve ever felt. Period. And he hasn’t even pushed his cock inside of me yet.

“Better than chocolate?” he asks, wiping my lips that stay parted. His forearm rests beside my head, propping up his body as he stares down at me.

“I don’t know,” I pant. “I think I need to test this out five or six more times to make a definitive answer.” I smile playfully.

“I have a strong f*cking feeling that we’ll hear your answer quickly.”

“I love your strong feelings,” I tell him.

“I love watching you come,” he says like it’s a simple fact. But it’s not simple at all.

“How much?”

He kisses my good cheek and then whispers, “More than you’ll ever f*cking know.”

Damn. He slips his fingers out of me, wiping them on the blanket, and then he slides my soaked panties off my legs at an extremely slow rate. So slow that my body clenches all over again. When they’re off my feet, I turn on my stomach and moan into the covers. “Just take me now,” I say into the muffled blankets.

He’s on his knees, and he lifts me by the hips so I’m on mine too. “That’s not how I take women,” he says, squeezing my ass.

“You torture them,” I say, turning my head. “I can’t come twice before we have sex.”

“Want to f*cking bet?” he says with narrowed eyes.

I grin. “Yes, I do. Let’s test it out now.”

“We don’t have time,” he says, shutting it down. It was worth a shot. He wipes between my legs with the blanket, and then he swiftly grabs me around the waist and sets my feet on the floor. Completely naked. I watch as he grabs a clean pair of panties from my bag.

He dresses me, helping me step into them. And once the soft cotton touches my hips, he puts the shirt on over my head and lets me step into my shorts. He’s taking care of me to a new degree. It makes me feel more than just loved. I feel like I’m truly his.

I hold onto the back of his neck while he zips my shorts, his body so close to mine again. He fishes the button through the hole, tension constricting his muscles. My breath is ragged. How is this possible? I just orgasmed.

I look up at him as he finishes. “I guess that answers my question.”

“What question?”

“Before, I was going to ask you if this was it for us.”

He frowns. “What are you f*cking talking about?”

I don’t back down to the darkness in his features. I cling to every dangerous quality he possesses. “I just thought you’d want to go back to being just friends after what happened with my face.”

His confusion turns into a hard glare. “I’m not with you because you’re a f*cking model.”

“I know.”

“Clearly you didn’t.”

“I do now.”

He’s not happy with that answer. “I didn’t think I was going to have to spell it out for you, Calloway.”

“Now I’m confused.”

He shakes his head. “I’ve never met a f*cking girl that I wanted to stick around for longer than a month, and then I became friends with you—”

I cut him off, “And I thought that you could go back to being my friend.”

“No, you thought that I’d want to. You think I’m with you just because you’re f*cking gorgeous? Daisy, I could have been with you the moment you turned eighteen. Having sex with a hot f*cking girl that gets me hard isn’t worth risking the relationship I have with my brother.”

I breathe heavily. “What’s worth the risk then?”

“What we f*cking have,” he says. “I love you beyond physical attraction.” He cups my smooth cheek, looking deep into my eyes. “I love you, Dais, because you’re the wildest f*cking girl with the biggest f*cking heart. And without you in my life”—he shakes his head like it’s an inconceivable picture—“I’d be the unhappiest f*cking guy.”

His words flood me with so much emotion. For however ineloquent they are, they sound perfect off his lips—because they’re one-hundred percent Ryke Meadows. I focus on the three most important ones of the bunch.

“You love me,” I breathe.

He lets out a short laugh. “You’re such a f*cking girl.”

“Say it again.”

He smiles, a full blown one that tingles my body all over. “I f*cking love you, sweetheart.”

I lean in to kiss him, forgetting I’m hurt, but he holds my jaw, controlling the touch of our lips that desperately wants to be something more. Before it turns wild, he kisses my forehead and murmurs, “I’m not going anywhere.”

I never knew that a relationship could be so mental, so emotional before all the physical. I wonder if we’re doing this backwards or if this has been the right way all along.

Right. I’ve found the one person who makes me the happiest, but I just wonder how long I’ll be able to keep him. I wonder if there are too many outside forces pulling us apart for this to last.

I’ll take each day as they come.