Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 24266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
“Okay, no.” I change course mid-thought. “When you did it with other girls, did you talk them through what you were about to do? Not like clinically, because I know what happens, but maybe—”
“Shhhh.” He presses a kiss against my lips mid-sentence. “You’re one of one, Dahlia, and I’ve never dated a girl like you. I never had feelings for any of my past girlfriends, so I can wait until you’re ready. I promise.”
“What if that’s not until I’m forty?”
“I’ll remind you to freeze your eggs before then.”
I snort, and he kisses me again.
“Come here.” He grabs my hand and leads me downstairs to the kitchen. “What do you want to eat?”
“Over easy eggs.”
“Hmmm.” He pulls a container from his bag. Opening it, he reveals a ripened strawberry plant and picks off all the fruit.
“You’re keeping up with the ones my mom gave you?”
“Yeah.” He nods. “My parents appreciate not having to buy them at the store anymore. Remind me to show you how many they’re growing in our back yard the next time you come over.”
“Will do.”
He pulls out a chair for me, and before I can ask him something else, he makes it clear that we’re not about to have a conversation.
He stares at me while he cooks, licking his lips and sucking wet batter from his fingers while he makes pancakes instead of eggs.
After drizzling butter atop my serving, he picks up a straw and slides it in and out of the biggest strawberry. Then, he fills the hole with whipped cream.
He puts together a plate for himself before smiling and sitting across from me.
“Okay,” I say. “I would like to have sex now.”
“You should eat your food.” He stuffs half of his pancake into his mouth. “Pass the syrup.”
“I’m serious.”
“About passing the syrup?”
“No.” I slide it to him. “About having sex.”
“I know.”
“So, we’ll go back upstairs, and do it?”
“No.”
I watch him finish, confused.
Without saying a word, he grabs our plates and places them in the sink.
Then he lifts me by the waist and sets me on the counter. “Are the doors locked?” he whispers.
“Yes.”
“Good.” He lifts the hem of my T-shirt, gently rolling it up until my breasts are exposed.
He presses his mouth against my left nipple, sucking it between his lips, and he caresses my right one with his hand.
My breathing slows as he darts his tongue against my skin; my nipple hardens under his soft attack. He repeats his rhythms on the other side, and then he slowly trails his kisses down to my thighs.
“I should’ve kissed you here first,” he whispers.
He doesn’t give me a chance to ask where ‘here’ is before burying his head between my legs and pressing his mouth against my pussy.
I squeeze my eyes shut as his tongue dances a rhythm I’ve never felt before.
My breath hitches as he nears my clit. His eyes briefly meet mine as he rubs his thumb against it, and I can’t help but moan.
Grabbing a fistful of his hair, I try to make him slow down, to change his pace, but he refuses.
Growling, he pins my legs down against the wood top so I can’t escape or control him, and an unfamiliar pleasure begins to build and build…
Heat flashes all over, and I am near the edge of intensity, so close, but he tears his mouth away.
My eyes flutter open, and I see him unwrapping a condom.
I stare at him as he pulls out his cock. He grabs my hand and wraps his own over it, stroking his cock as it hardens.
Pushing him back, I jump down from the counter.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
I answer by bending down and opening my mouth wide, swallowing him between my lips.
I take him deeper and deeper, nearly gagging as his thickness hits the back of my throat.
My head bobs up and down, and his breathing quickens, but he doesn’t let me finish.
Gently pushing me back, he grabs me by the hips and returns my ass to the counter.
After pulling on the condom, he positions me on the edge of the granite.
“Wrap your legs around my waist.”
I oblige, and he slides into me inch by inch, stretching me, filling me in a way I can’t quite describe.
“Am I hurting you?” he asks.
“No…”
He pushes into me a bit further, and I claw my nails into his back
“Are you sure, Dahlia?” He kisses my neck.
“Yes…”
He holds me taut and slowly pushes me back and then onto him, again and again, serving me my first dose of his brand of pleasure and kisses every step of the way.
The words “I love you” tumble from my lips as he takes me even deeper.
He covers my mouth with his hand to muffle my screams, and when he reaches his own climax, he whispers against my skin.
“I love you, too, Dahlia…”
TWELVE
Dahlia
A few days after dinner