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He held her pussy, covered in denim, and squeezed it in his hand. “Has he touched you?”
She gasped. “No.”
He traced her seam with his finger, applying pressure where he knew she needed it. “Has anyone ever touched you?”
“Never.”
And no man ever will except me, baby.
“How old are you, Katelyn?”
“Eighteen.”
Fuck.
‘As long as she’s legal and you like her…’
“Look at me.” Her enchanting eyes locked with his. “I’m thirty-two.”
He waited for her to recoil.
She just smiled.
With his hands on her knees he spread her legs on the counter. He popped the button on her jeans, lowered the zipper, and dipped his hand inside. She wasn’t clenching her fists at her sides any longer. She held onto his shoulders as she gazed at his hand between her thighs.
He didn’t penetrate her. Just ran his finger through her wet folds. She was soaked. “I’m touching you, Katelyn.”
She tipped her head up and reached for his neck, bringing him to her mouth. It was Midsummer’s Eve all over again. Every night for three months he’d dreamt of this kiss. Of his dick pulsing in time with her tongue. Tasting her. Smelling her. Feeling her. He needed her nipples in his mouth and her clit between his teeth.
He needed to make her come.
Mark her as his.
And one day, when she was ready and begging, she’d bleed for him. He’d wipe the mascara-stained tears from her eyes when he tore through her hymen, then after he’d clean their cum and the virgin’s blood that dripped from her cunt with his tongue. Then he’d hold her. Forever.
Because once she was his he’d never let her go.
“I’m going to make you come, baby.” He grabbed onto the waistband of her jeans. “Lift.”
She did and he pulled the denim off her legs. Her shoes came off with them and dropped to the floor. He kissed her while he freed her tits from the silky cups of her bra. His thumbs skimmed over her nipples and she moaned into his mouth. The lightest touch and she was so fucking responsive to it. He did it again and once more she moaned.
“You like that, don’t you baby?”
She answered him by holding his hands to her breasts and squeezing his fingers against her nipples.
“Fuck yeah, you do. Lie back.” He lowered her onto the counter. She didn’t resist. “I’ve got you, sweet girl.”
He cradled her head in one hand and sucked a nipple into his mouth, circling it and flicking it with his tongue. She panted and wriggled. So sensitive.
“Fuck.”
Not today, but soon.
His angel had a dirty mouth and he couldn’t wait to teach her all the dirty things he wanted her to do with it. Pure and sweet and untouched. Only ever his. He’d never had that before and something about that turned him the fuck on. He wondered what would turn her on besides his fingers, his tongue, and his cock. He’d show her everything. Teach her everything. Give her anything she asked for.
But he’d never share her. No other man would ever fucking touch her.
He bit down on her nipple and moved to the other. He swore she would come from just this. Brendan lifted himself from her breast and eased his hand out from beneath her head. He gave her nipples a pinch and she bit her lip.
