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He nods. “I need to make sure you’re ready for me in a few days’ time. Come here, baby.”
Since I’m already snuggled up against him, I raise a disbelieving eyebrow. I’m in my pajamas per his orders because he wants the tactile reminder that he’s keeping me off limits. Dallas claims my lips and slides his big hand down inside my pajama pants. I shift to open my legs, eager with anticipation.
“Answer the question, Esme. You ever play with your sweet pussy?” His thumb is poised just over my clit and I crave his touch so bad. I nod frantically and Dallas growls. “Soon you’re going to show me. Right now, I need you to tell me if this is too much or too little.” He slides one thick finger in me. I wriggle with delight. “More please,” I say sweetly, kissing his jaw in encouragement. A second finger joins the first and I sigh. I’m stretched tight and then he begins to move them in and out. I can feel the tension building and my thighs growing wet as he increases the tempo. “Dallas?” I’m not sure what I’m even asking for, but he seems to know. He brings his thumb down on my swollen clit while his fingers continue to ravish me. Until something breaks and I spasm against his hand, my thighs clenching tight, holding him in place while the ripples of pleasure and need spread out to my fingertips and toes.
“There you go, Esmerelda, just like that,” Dallas encourages as he continues to stroke me gently, soothing down the ache. He kisses me on the cheek, ignoring my protest as his hand leaves my pussy and settles my pajamas back in place.
“Want you there,” I mutter, trying not to whine.
Dallas chuckles. “All in good time, Esme. You need to decide if you want me to put a baby in there right away or wait a few years. Your mom seemed pretty keen on grandchildren,” he adds dryly. Way to kill the mood.
I sigh. “Do we have to figure that out now?”
Dallas nods. “For the short term, yes. Because of the snow. I don’t want you giving birth at the compound, so some family planning with the calendar is required. Now and the next few months would be safe. After that we’ll have to wait until the fall.”
My eyes widen and Dallas chuckles. “This is why you need to think carefully, Esme. Make sure I’m what you want.”
I punch him lightly in the arm. “I’m keeping you, stupid man,” I mutter and then kiss him to ensure he understands that I mean it.
8
Esme
The helicopter ride is just one of the many firsts I’m anticipating with this trip to Dallas’s home. And it does not disappoint. Dallas lets me sit up front, even though that means squeezing his larger frame into the small bench seat at the back. We had to wait a few days for the weather to clear enough so not only is he anxious to get home, but I’m beyond ready to have him stretching me wide with his cock. He’s been teasing me with his fingers for what feels like years now. Not that I’m complaining exactly, but I’ve been ready for more — for a while.
I forget all about that though when we soar over the majestic mountains, or rather to the side of them. I gather the wind currents at the top aren’t anything to mess with. So we’re basically following the road of the closed highway. Somewhere about fifty feet under the ribbon of white is plain old ordinary pavement.
Then we’re landing on a spot swept mostly clear of snow and painted with a red chalk cross. Primitive but effective. The pilot helps me out and then he and Dallas unload our bags. Dallas only had the one, but I packed a few extra with my warmest clothes and a small one with my laptop and camera. While they do that, I swivel my head around, wanting to take it all in. From here, there’s not that much to see. Just the worn siding of an old squat building.
Dallas raises an eyebrow at me like he’s convinced I’m going to hop back on the helicopter in dismay, but instead I bounce in place attempting to stay warm. Dallas points towards the building, so I make my way there, although I don’t see a door. I stand there waiting for directions.
Oh, he just wanted me out of the way while the helicopter lifted off again. “You ready to see home?” Dallas asks quietly. I nod enthusiastically and try to pick up all of my bags at once.
“Not happening, Esmerelda. Here, you carry that one.” He hands me the lightest of the small bags. I roll my eyes and take a second one, too.
Then we trudge down a shoveled path until a short walk later we’re in a small clearing with an adorable log cabin. It’s classic, like the kind of houses little kids draw with two windows, one either side of the red door and a steeply pitched roof with a shiny metal chimney. There’s smoke already curling out of the top of it.
“Is someone staying here?” I ask Dallas nervously. I’m not sure I’m ready for company and hell, I want to drag him into bed at the first opportunity.
“Naw. The guys took care of the path and started the fire a few hours ago. Should be warm enough not to see your breath inside by now.” He pushes down the latch and opens the door. That’s when I notice there isn’t even a lock on the outside.
“You never lock your door?” I ask in wonder, completely distracted by that minor observation.
Dallas shrugs. “Didn’t have anything that needs guarding. Until now. There once was a bear that invited herself in, but she left when she realized I didn’t keep any food in the place. And it helped… before.” He sounds almost glum.
“Before what?”
He sighs and sets our bags down against the far wall. “When we first came here, I was in pretty bad shape. The guys built this place for me. I had to basically sit around and pour water because I wasn’t allowed to do anything. They kept checking on me every day or so. Didn’t seem any point in putting a lock on the door if everyone and their brother were going to have a key, anyway.”
“But you’re better now, right? That’s what the surgery was all about?” I wrap my arms around his waist from behind and smoosh my cheek into his back.
“I’m better than I’ve been in years, Esmerelda. Let’s go introduce you to the residents and then I’m taking you to bed for a week.”
I giggle at that and squeeze him tight. His breathing doesn’t even change. I squeeze harder, still nothing. I huff out a breath and give up, only to be confronted by Dallas’s smirk when he turns around. He doesn’t say anything, but a challenge has been issued.
“Do I need my boots?”
“Naw, we’re just going back to the community center. Curiosity will draw everyone there. Might take a few of them half an hour, but it’s easier than going one house at a time. We’ll do that when the snow melts,” he promises.
