Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
As soon as I call him Daddy, Gareth’s eyes darken, and his gentle touch on my thigh becomes a tight grip. It’s a moment shot through with uncertainty; I’m not sure if I’ve angered him or thrown open the gates to those darker desires that he’s just warned me about.
To make my position unflinchingly clear, I say, “I didn’t come here to heed warnings. And I’m not scared of the dark.”
I thread my fingers into his hair.
“Jesus fuck, Jewel.” He shoves my skirt higher, and his fingers trace the lace band at the top of my thigh highs. “You always dress so sexy to meet with attorneys?”
“There’s nothing sexy about my outfit, only what’s underneath. And he didn’t get to see what was under my clothes.” I pull my shirt over my head to show Gareth more of my black lace. “What can I say? I have a weakness for lingerie.”
“That makes two of us.” His lips meet the swell of my breast, and the heat coming off his mouth sends a chill through me.
“I bet we like a lot of the same things,” I say, running my fingers through his thick, dark waves. “Let’s pick up where we left off and find out.”
“We left off with your insanely tight little pussy clenching my fingers and your panties soaked. Are your pretty little panties wet right now?”
“You tell me.” I reach back and lower the zipper on my skirt, letting it fall below my hips. The fabric rests on his wrists for a few seconds before he pulls his hands away from my legs and his gaze follows it to the floor.
His eyes roam back up over my body, taking in every inch of me, but stopping short of meeting my stare.
He runs his hands up my arms and his thumbs curl at my shoulders, hook under my bra straps, and yank them down my arms, pulling the cups away from my skin until my breasts are fully exposed to him.
“Gorgeous tits.” He immediately pinches and pulls on my nipples. “Can they handle rough play like this?”
My voice catches in my throat when I try to respond. I nod mid-gasp and that’s enough confirmation for him to keep going.
“Big, perky nipples like these should be pierced,” he says. “Why aren’t they?”
“Almost did it in college,” I say. “Chickened out at the last minute.” I squirm between his arms but he doesn’t release my nipples.
“Is that what you’re going to do here? Chicken out on me at the last minute?”
“No. I’m not going anywhere until you’re done with me.” He closes his mouth over my left nipple and his tongue teases the peak for a bit before he begins to suck, working it forcefully with his mouth while his finger and thumb continue to test my limits on the right.
His free hand slips inside my thong, and he groans when he feels how incredibly wet he’s already made me.
He doesn’t give my pussy any warmup play, goes straight to reaming me and pressing hard circles over my clit. My orgasm hits too soon, denies my desire to slowly rediscover the joy of his hand, to savor every sensation of his touch after all these years.
Gareth withdraws his fingers from inside me before I’m done trembling and brings them to my lips, prying my mouth open. I suck on them the way I know he wants me to. His eyes hood and his breaths turn ragged, intensifying until they practically echoes around us.
“My turn to taste it,” he says, lying back on the sofa, stretching his legs long on the cushions, his head resting flat. “Get up here and make a mess on my face.”
Oh, God. Definitely should’ve asked for another drink before I came on to him. With my bra still twisted around my waist, I step next to him. His hands grab my hips and lift me until I have no choice but to climb aboard, my knees sinking into the leather above his shoulders.
He moves the crotch of my thong aside with two fingers and stretches his tongue to flicker at my opening. His hand presses at the small of my back to bring me closer to him.
God, he looks incredible beneath me like this. When he finds me watching, he bites gently along my labia and smiles up at me. He makes several firm strokes through my seam with his tongue like he’s licking thick frosting off a cupcake, coating his tongue with my arousal.
Then he lifts his head while simultaneously pulling me further onto his mouth and eats me out like a man starved, ensuring that mess he asked for, and obliterating my self-conscious hesitation about sitting on his face.
By the time I come, I’m riding his mouth.
There is nothing within reach to brace myself, no headboard to press against to keep from flying apart when my fuses all blow.
I fist my hair at the scalp and pull hard, seeking balance in the tension as I attempt to lift off him to ease the intensity, but he chases me up to maintain contact and pulls me right back down, forcing me to expel the scream I’m trying to swallow, and leaving me no choice but to endure the electrical current zinging across my nerve endings at maximum wattage.
Tears involuntarily stream from my eyes as if my body needs every possible outlet for this release. It’s all I can do to keep from collapsing on him.
He’s exorcised every ounce of stress that’s haunted me for weeks, all the terror of coming back here to face the memories is now melted all over his face.
I could curl onto his chest and sleep until morning, but he grabs my ass with both hands and says, “I’m about to do things to you that are going to knock me right off that pedestal, sweet girl. If you want to tap out, now is the time.”
“I’m all in. Go ahead, make me hate you.”
Please. Because I have adored you for too damn long.