Chapter 24 Dan
DAN
Kissing her feels like I’ve been writing with my left hand my whole life only to discover that I’m actually right-handed.
Kissing her feels like I didn’t actually know what kissing was until tonight. Whatever I was doing before was just a poor imitation.
I could stay in this water and kiss her all night.
I could stay in this water and kiss her forever.
When she pulls back, there’s an instant feeling of madness that this might be over. But thankfully she’s grinning and flushed, the picture of pure delight.
“Can we get out of the water?” She nods to the wet wooden ladder she’s still using to support herself. “I’d really like to use both hands right now.”
I match her grin. “Absolutely.”
I watch her climb the ladder, the water sluicing over the curves of her hips and ass as she emerges.
I follow her closely. I’ve spent so long keeping a respectable distance from her, trying always to walk that line, shoving down my desire for her.
But now that I’ve tasted her lips, I want to be as close to her as I can.
As soon as my bare feet hit the dock, I reach for her wrist and tug her back into me, taking her mouth.
She tastes like sweet strawberry ice cream and every dirty thought I’ve ever had, and I know immediately that I’ll never get enough of her.
And there’s no way she doesn’t know much I’m enjoying this, because she’s naked and against me. The evidence of my desire for her is hard and pressing into her soft belly, the three metal bars in my dick against my stomach.
“Can I?” she asks, her cheeks red, her lashes brushing her cheeks as she casts her gaze downward at my cock.
Oh right, this is why I got those piercings. This exact moment, when a beautiful woman, bold despite her shyness, asks if she can touch them. I’d endure an infinite number of needles just to have this experience with Carson.
“Yeah,” I try to say, but my voice gets trapped in my throat.
Her hand drifts down my chest, her fingers dancing across my tattoos like a game of connect-the-dots as they move toward my length. Just before she reaches the head, she pauses, and I damn near cry out from how badly I want her to touch me.
“Will I hurt you?” she asks. “If I pull too hard?”
So much blood rushes south at that question that I start to feel lightheaded.
“You won’t hurt me,” I tell her, then take her hand and guide it down.
She wraps it around my shaft gently, gasping as her fingers meet the metal.
She gives me a few tentative strokes that feel so good it sets my teeth on edge.
If I’m not careful, these curious, gentle strokes are going to make me come all over her.
We probably shouldn’t be standing here, naked and bathed in bright moonlight.
Because if the soft little moans that escape her lips as she strokes me are any indication, this is going to end with me inside her.
In all my times coming out here, I’ve never encountered another person, but still I’m not willing to take the risk now.
Not with her. I know what it would mean for her to be found like this.
It takes every ounce of my willpower to step back from her grip, but I do it.
I reach for my clothes, then take her hand in mine.
As I march down the dock, I bend down to scoop up the clothes she left behind like a dirty Hansel and Gretel.
When I reach the car, I throw open the back door, shoving the clothes over the front seat.
Then I step aside and gesture toward the back seat.
She looks at me skeptically. “But I’m covered in lake water,” she says.
“And?”
She huffs out a little laugh. “Your really nice, really fancy, totally spotless car—I’ll get it all wet.”
“Yeah, I’m counting on it,” I say, a smile on my face. “Now get in the fucking car, Carson.”
I wonder for a moment if the order was a little too harsh.
I’ve known Carson for so long, but I’ve only really known her for a few weeks.
And I’ve never known her in a sexual context.
I don’t know how much sex she’s had or how comfortable she is.
I don’t know if I should be going slow, easing her into this.
I don’t know if we’re even going to have sex tonight.
But the memory of her voice pleading I just wanna get fucked has been the soundtrack of every minute of our time together, and I to know if she meant it.
I won’t push her. Not far, anyway. Just enough to see if she likes it.
But I have to know.
And then all my hesitations and second guesses are obliterated by the wicked grin that unfurls across her pretty pink lips.
“Oh, you want me to crawl into the back seat of your car, Daniel? I can do that.” She turns, bends over, and literally crawls in, her knees sinking into the soft leather upholstery, her gorgeous ass wiggling seductively.
She peeks over her shoulder, her wet curls falling across her face, and purrs, “Did I do it right?”
Oh, game on.
“You did great, baby,” I tell her, then reach into the car and grasp her hips, flipping her over onto her back.
In an instant, I’m in the car, hovering over her.
I brace one hand on the window and slip the other beneath the nape of her neck, my fingers threading into her wet hair.
My cock rests, hard and heavy, at the juncture of her thighs.
It would be so easy to slide inside her.
Easier still when she parts her legs, wrapping the left one around my waist. Her heel digs into my ass, pulling me closer.
It would be so easy to be inside her right now.
But I want this to last.
I also want this to last longer than tonight, but I quickly shove that thought away.
It brings with it way too many questions, too many caveats, too many doors that I fear are closed and locked.
If tonight is all I have, then I’m going to make tonight last until the sun comes up.
I’m going to take as much of her as she’ll give me.
I’m so fucking greedy for her.
I drag my fingers out of her curls and coast them down her body, pausing to pluck at her pert pink nipple.
As my hand continues its journey south, I replace my fingers with my tongue, pulling her nipple into my mouth, toying with it between my teeth, urged on by the gasps and pleas that spill from her lips.
Her skin is warm, but she shivers beneath my touch.
And when my fingers reach her sex, when they part her folds to discover how slick she is, her entire body jerks beneath me.
I groan, bringing my lips back up to hers so she can taste the rumble.
“Please,” she begs into my mouth as my fingers ghost over her clit, exploring the soft, wet skin.
Her eyes are closed, her head tipped back.
I press kisses into the column of her neck as she writhes beneath me.
She’s trying so hard to get the pressure of my fingers right where she wants it, but she’s not in charge right now.
I am.
“Please what, Carson?” I murmur, enjoying teasing her far too much. “Please make you come?”
“Oh my god,” is her answer, but that’s not good enough. I stop moving my fingers.
“Use your words, sweet girl,” I urge her. “I know you know how.”
She tilts her chin down, her lashes brushing her cheeks as she blinks at me with hooded, wanton eyes.
“Make me come, Dan,” she says. Her lips are a deep red, flushed with need. I want to bite them. “Please. Don’t make me beg.”
Oh, I want to. I want nothing more than to hear her beg me to please her, to hear my name trip off her lips as she writhes beneath me.
But I want to see her fall apart even more.
I let the pads of my fingers slip across her swollen clit, playing in her slick heat. Her back arches off the seat, her breasts rising toward my lips. I’m all too happy to accept her offering.
“Oh my god, it’s too much,” she moans, but my sweet girl has no idea how much she can take.
Thank god I’m here to teach her.
I let my fingers explore lower, slipping one inside her as I use my thumb to circle her clit. She lets out a moan that trips into a whine as she grinds against on my hand.
“You want more?” I ask, and she nods. “Words, Carson.”
“More,” she cries, her fingers pressing into my back, her nails biting into my skin.
I slip a second finger inside her, beckoning her closer with a curve of my fingers, and press into a spot inside her that makes her cry out. My thumb keeps up a steady rhythm against her clit as she rides my hand. My cock is weeping with need, but my focus is on coaxing her orgasm out of her.
Although the word coax indicates a gentle effort.
It’s obvious that my sweet girl doesn’t like gentle.
She bucks against my hand, chasing her pleasure, and I’m all too happy to give it to her. Her orgasm feels so close, but then she abruptly sits up, hooks her hands underneath my arms, and yanks.
“What is it?” I ask, even though I know full well what she wants. But once again, I want to hear her say it. I like when she asserts herself. It’s my favorite version of Carson. “What do you want, sweet girl?”
“Get up here and get inside me,” she demands, and I swear if we were standing, she’d stomp her foot in the dirt. “I want to feel you. I want to know what that metal can do.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I reply. I press my lips to hers, and her tongue swipes into my mouth. The head of my cock slips across her center, warm and pulsing and ready to welcome me, but I pull back.
“What?” she asks, her eyes wide, and I know the feeling I see in them. I feel it too. It’s fear that this is over.
“I don’t have a condom,” I tell her.
She sits up so fast she nearly smashes her forehead into my chin. I jerk back, my head hitting the roof, and we nearly tumble off the seat into the floorboards, a tangle of arms and legs.