Evander #3
She’s right. I have no doubt about it. My perfect fucking daisy.
“I’m a selfish man, little daisy,” I murmur against her lips. “Because all I want to do is believe you. To trust you.”
“Then, do it,” she whispers, her lips moving against mine in a feather-soft kiss.
I rest my forehead against hers, closing my eyes for a heartbeat.
“I’m trying,” I admit quietly.
“I know.”
“No.” I shake my head once. “I mean… really trying.”
Her fingers weave through my hair before drifting to the back of my neck, scratching exactly where my instincts crave the touch.
“I’ve spent my whole life assuming I know the answer before anyone’s even finished asking the question.”
A tiny smile curves her mouth. “Trust me, I know.”
I huff a laugh, pressing a kiss to her neck, just below her ear.
“Of course, you did.”
“You make colour-coded, terrifying spreadsheets for fun, Van,” she says, giggling. “I’ve told you I don’t need you to stop being you. I don’t love you despite any of it, Van. I love you because of it.”
“I know.”
“You don’t.” She shushes me when I go to protest. “You can’t argue with me when I still feel the same way. You think you’re one mistake away from losing me for good.”
My chest tightens, and I growl low in my throat, my own scent turning sharp with the sting of it, coffee gone bitter. “That’s how you feel?”
She shrugs, pink dots appearing on her cheeks, her scent souring just slightly with the admission. How did I miss that?
Fuck, I’m a shitty alpha.
“Do I need to make a strongly worded presentation to convince you of the truth?” I ask.
Her laughter spills through the room, bright enough that my own smile arrives before I can stop it.
There she is.
My brave girl.
She cups my face again, drawing me back to her. “I could say the same to you, Van. But I won’t.”
“You won’t?”
She shakes her head. “I want you to trust me the way I’m learning to trust you. Neither of us deserves to spend forever wondering if one mistake will make the other leave.”
Fuck. She’s not wrong, and mainly because I don’t want her feeling that way.
She brushes one last kiss across my lips and smiles down at me. Her scent is sweet with embarrassment, and I feel guilty for changing the mood so much.
I nuzzle into her, scenting her glands to soothe the best I can.
“Hey,” I murmur, catching her chin gently. “Why do you feel so embarrassed?”
She shrugs, her eyes flickering to mine before dropping to where her hands are splayed across my chest.
“Is it because you’ve been more open today than you have before?” I ask softly.
She hesitates before giving a tiny nod.
“Don’t ever feel shame about being honest with me, Cassidy,” I say firmly. “Especially when it’s something we need to hear, okay?”
She shivers above me, the blankets bunching under her as I rub my thumbs against her hips until a small whimper slips out of her.
“Okay,” she whispers, and I let out a slow breath of relief.
I kiss her again, slow and deliberate, trusting her with every piece of me she’s asked for.
She tries to hold her weight up, but I tug her down, wanting her pressed against me as much as possible.
I don’t want a single millimetre of space between us.
Her fingers curl into my shirt, tugging the fabric up my abdomen, running her hands over my bare skin. I pull her lower lip between my teeth, sucking it and swallowing the answering moan.
Her nails trace over my bare skin, and I hiss, breaking away from her with a grin.
“You want this off?”
She bites her lip, her eyes raking over my face as uncertainty sharpens the sweet edge of her scent.
“I want to feel you pressed against me, little daisy,” I murmur breathlessly. “But I won’t take anything you haven’t given me.”
She nods, and I push us up a little, the mattress dipping beneath our combined weight, and yank the T-shirt over my head, tossing it in the direction of one of her blankets.
“I doubt I’m getting that back,” I say, and she giggles but doesn’t deny my truth.
Little menace.
I wrap her arms around my neck, and she melts into my scent before the heat of her body sinks into mine.
My hands roam over her back, feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her shirt. She shivers beneath my touch, and I pull her even closer, wanting to feel every inch of her against me.
Fuck, my gums ache, my canines pressing painfully against my lips as every instinct screams to claim her.
Her lips are soft against mine, her whimpers so fucking desperate. I can’t believe how much she’s giving to me, how open she is. There’s no hesitation. Just complete trust.
“Can I take this off?” I whisper against her ear, my fingers playing with the hem of her shirt.
She nods against my chest, and I gently pull the fabric over her head, revealing her to me for the first time. She’s small and delicate, her skin flushed pink, and I have to stop myself from staring too hard.
My hands hover over her bare shoulders, not wanting to touch without permission, but fuck, do I want to touch every fucking part.
She shivers, goosebumps rising across her ivory skin as my scent disappears with the fabric.
She tries to cover herself up, but I immediately pull her back into me, pressing our lips together.
My pretty little mate wants to hide from her wants.
From her needs.
I won’t allow it. She’ll not be leaving this bed unsatisfied, and that’s a vow. She pulls back ever so slightly, her eyes dark with desire, her cheeks rosy.
Fuck, she’s beautiful.
“Kiss me again, little daisy,” I whisper against her mouth, and she doesn’t hesitate.
Her lips part beneath mine, and I swallow the soft sound she makes when my tongue slides against hers. She tastes like the tea she drank downstairs, sweet and warm, and something that’s just her—something I’d know blindfolded.
I still don’t know how I got this lucky, and I’m not about to question it.
Her hips rock against mine, her breasts pressing against my chest, and I’m tempted to ask if we can remove her bra.
If I can take her pebbled nipples into my mouth and—
“Oh,” Cassie moans into my mouth, her hips clearly finding the best spot for her enjoyment.
My hands slide down her back, feeling the delicate curve of her spine, the way her body trembles when my fingers trace the clasp of her bra. She whimpers against my lips, and I can’t help the growl that rumbles through my chest.
“Can I?” I ask, my voice rough with desire.
“What?” she asks, moving up to kiss along my jaw.
“Your bra, Cassie,” I say, my fingers still hovering over the clasp. “Can I take it off?”
She pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, and there’s something so raw in her expression that my chest aches. Her lips are swollen from kissing, her hair tangled around her shoulders, and she looks so pretty.
“Um, only if you—”
“Not how this works, gorgeous,” I say, pressing a soft kiss to her bare arm. “I’ll ask. You tell me yes or no. No conditions. No justifications.”
She swallows, her throat bobbing, and then she nods. I know she’s still getting used to being allowed to say yes to things she wants.
She reaches up with slightly trembling fingers, pushes my hands away, and undoes the clasp herself. Her bra gets thrown, but I don’t move my eyes away from her chest to see in what direction.
Holy fuck.
I feel like a bloody teenager seeing a woman’s tits for the first time. These are… fuck.
I lick my lips, and without even asking, she pushes her breast into my hand, practically offering it on a silver fucking platter.
I cup her breast in my palm, feeling the weight of it, the softness. My thumb brushes across her nipple, and she gasps, arching into my touch.
“Van—” she breathes, her eyes fluttering closed.
“Can I taste you here?” I ask, my voice barely recognisable even to myself. She nods, and I pull her down closer, sucking on the soft skin.
She shudders as I take her nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the sensitive peak, a tiny whine escaping before she can swallow it.
Her back arches, pressing herself more firmly against me, and I groan against her skin. The taste of her is intoxicating—salty sweetness that makes my head spin.
“Van, please,” she whimpers. “I need more.”
Her words are like fucking catnip, and I tweak the other nipple in my hand as she rocks against me.
My cock throbs so hard it’s painful, and I have to force myself to slow down, to think, to breathe. She’s writhing above me, her hips rolling in a rhythm that’s going to end me, and I can feel how wet she is through her pants.
“More, Van, please,” she gasps.
“How much further do you want to go, love?” I murmur, pulling away from her chest to look at her properly.
Her eyes are glazed with desire, her pupils blown wide, and she’s breathing so hard her chest heaves with each inhale. She’s never looked more beautiful.
“Everything,” she whispers, her voice raw with need. “I want everything.”
Everything? What the fuck does that even mean to her?
My heart pounds against my ribs, but I nod and flip us over so she’s beneath me, her hair fanning out across the pillow.
She gasps, her hands flying to my chest as if to steady herself, eyes wide and dark. I give her only a second of that—the pretty shock of it—before I drop my mouth to hers. She melts into me immediately, and I swallow every soft sound she makes, my hand cradling the back of her head.
My hands slide down her sides, thumbs grazing the gentle curve of her hips as her breath catches when my fingers hook into the waistband of her pants. I break the kiss just enough to murmur against her lips.
“Can I take these off, little daisy?”
She nods, her fingers already fumbling with the button in her rush to help me.
Fuck, this is such a turn-on.
I gently push her hands away, wanting to take my time, to savour this moment. Her eyes widen in surprise as I slowly unbutton her pants, sliding them down her legs with deliberate care.
“Van,” she whimpers, clutching at my biceps, her entire body trembling as her scent continues to flood the room.
“I’m getting there, daisy,” I murmur, blowing air against her abdomen as I pull back up.