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“This was supposed to be about sex,” I remind him.
“There will be sex.” He smirks as he takes the seat next to mine.
“But—”
“But I’m in love with you and you’re freaking me out and I’m trying not to panic,” he says, cutting me off. “Eat, darling. Let me take care of you for once. You’ve been taking care of me for weeks.” He leans over in his chair, kissing my neck. “Relax and let me love you. I promise everything will be fine.”
His simple words lift a weight off my shoulders that I hadn’t realized had been there since I thought I’d almost lost him. He is right. Life is too short. I am going to live in this moment. The rest can wait for tomorrow.
Chapter 14
Mack
A hum vibrates through my body as we eat dinner. The talk that seemed important to Dally never surfaces. Instead we talk about the widow. Dally suggests setting up a trust for the child’s education. It’s a great idea which I text to Quinn immediately. I ask about the coffee machine. Dally assures me it’s the eighth wonder of the world. We keep it light but underneath it is a low thrum of arousal.
I can see it in the way her pulse flutters rapidly at the base of her neck and in the way her skin is growing rosy with desire. The food I made could’ve been delicious or it could’ve tasted like cardboard. I’m not paying attention because my eyes are glued on Dally. Eating has never been an erotic thing before but watching her lips close over the tines of a fork makes me want to go feral.
With a lot of effort, I manage to restrain myself. Once she’s finished eating, I lead her to the bathroom where her bath awaits. The candles have burned low and the scent of rose blossoms fill the heated air. I fish out the hot stones I used to keep the bath water warm—a trick conveyed to me by Star.
“This is beautiful,” Dally says. “All of it—the dinner, the flowers, and now this.” She sucks in a breath. “It’s almost too much.”
“Not possible when it comes to you.” I help her take off her shirt and then her pants. Her hands come up to cover her tits because even though we’ve fucked ourselves in front of each other for nearly two weeks straight, she’s a little shy. I kiss her softly on the lips and cup her breasts, rubbing my thumbs over those pert nibs. Her mouth opens underneath mine and our tongues tangle. Kissing her is never just the act of our lips meeting. Instead, it’s like taking a piece of her inside me, swallowing her flavor, her essence.
Reluctantly, I peel myself away. “In you go. The water is going to get cold.”
“The remote unit you installed on these water pipes is nice,” she says as she climbs into the large tub.
“Technology can be good for some things.” As soon as it came on the market, I had the place retrofitted with automated everything so that the shower turns on at precisely the right time and warms to the exact temperature. Works wonders for the bathtub, too.
She relaxes against the backrest, stretching her arms out. I kneel beside the tub and get to work. With a rose-scented bar, I soap her down, paying extra attention to all those hidden places—behind her ear, the back of her neck, the undersides of her arms, the inner thighs. I spider my fingers up her legs. She parts them as my fingers glide in between her cunt lips.
Her mouth falls open and a moan spills out. “That’s right, darling, let me give you a good massage in your pussy. It’s been a long day, hasn’t it? Let me work your stress out.”
Her pussy is hot and juicy. I slip another finger inside of her channel and work her with long, steady strokes until she’s arching and gasping, her fingers clutching the sides of the tub as the orgasm overtakes her body. She’s sloe-eyed and dazed as I lift her out of the tub and carry her into the bedroom. I lay her wet body down on the bed of roses and shed my clothes.
“Ready, darling?”
She nods. “I’ve been ready.”
I climb on top of her and push her knees up until her pretty pussy is exposed. Her lips are plump and glistening. Her hole is ready for me. I take my cock in hand and press it against her entrance.
“Wait.” She panics when my head breaches her opening. “You’re so big. I don’t know if this is going to work.” Her pink cunt lips press on either side of my shaft. I can’t back out now. I really can’t.
“I’ll go slow,” I say in choked tones.
It’s hard, though. Massively, monumentally hard to move slow because she’s so tight and hot and wet and it’s every fantasy I’ve ever had balled into one tight cylinder ready to explode. Sweat breaks out on my forehead and trickles down my back. My veins pop out and my chest heaves with effort. I’ve never worked harder at keeping still in my entire life.
