Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
dexter
I’m at home outdoors, always have been.
There’s peace and tranquility to be found everywhere, from the moss-covered boulders to the waves licking the shorelines. It’s where I escape to when I need a timeout from life. Having spent so much time outside, you’d think I’d be bored.
You’d be wrong.
The trees have never looked like this.
The air has never tasted so fresh.
And the stars have never shone brighter than they do as they sparkle in Florence’s eyes.
There are things to discuss, things I need to deal with. It’s selfish, I know that, but this is the first time I’ve taken something I want. She won’t wait around forever, as she shouldn’t. It’s that knowledge that stokes a fire underneath me, forcing me to address my shit.
The snap in my willpower was audible, echoing in my head. Fighting my feelings wasn’t hurting me—it was hurting her. I was the one to hire her. To move her next door. To convince her to finish her list.
Now, I’m the one ready to drop to my knees, desperate to prove I’m worthy to not only her, but myself.
Leaning into temptation was my doing. She’s the one to close the distance now, brushing her soft lips over mine, the kiss quickly turning hungry.
Her taste lingers, tongue snaking into my mouth, hips shifting as she seeks my cock out. Bratty Florence is gone, and as much as I love that side of her, I’m too worked up.
I fist my cock between us, tapping the head on her clit. “You going to ride my cock like you did my face, you greedy girl?”
“Yes. I ache for it.” She writhes in my lap. “So badly. Please.”
Fuck, if she isn’t pretty when she begs, dragging each word out on a plea.
“Such a fucking cock tease.” My left hand snakes under her bottom, lifting her to position my length at her entrance, already dripping pre-cum. “Are you ready?”
She nods, eyes heavy with lust, and I lower her, painstakingly slow. Even with her earlier orgasm, it’s a tight fit.
“Relax, baby. That’s it.” Her inner walls loosen, hips rocking gently. She garbles nonsense down my ear. I’m not sure she’s aware she always drifts toward my right one.
“You’re so big. I can feel you everywhere,” she mewls.
Male pride zings through me, and I give her another couple of inches.
“You’re taking me so well. I’m nearly in.” I caress her thighs, pecking kisses down her chest, and draw a tight nipple into my mouth.
When I bite down, teasing the rosy peak, I drive up, filling her to the hilt.
Her mouth pops open, eyes glossy and wide. “Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
“Such a good girl.” She lights up like a firework under my praise. “This is what you get when you behave: your tight hole stuffed with my big cock.”
She nods in agreement, teeth sinking into her lip.
Entranced, I watch her hips roll, hands floating to cup her tits. Her movements are graceful, like trees bending in the wind. I almost forget to move, bewitched by the sensual movements.
I’ve waited too fucking long to sit back and let the opportunity to take, ruin, and mark her pass me by. The feral need to claim tunnels my vision.
Only her.
The one thing I swore I’d never have.
I drag her roughly across my lap, using her ass cheeks as leverage to rut into her with abandon. I drink down every cry, gasp, and moan, kissing and biting until her lips are swollen and her arousal soaks my thighs.
“Months,” I rasp against her mouth. “Months, I’ve dreamed of this pussy. You torture me in those pretty flower dresses and tight leggings. The games are over, because after tonight”—I change the angle, causing her eyes to roll back—“that’s it. You’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” she sings beautifully. “That’s all I’ve wanted.”
I clasp her jaw, needing to see her lips as I draw every drop of pleasure from her. “Then come for me, Florence, all over my cock. Make a mess so I can clean it up after.”
She rises and falls in tandem with my upward thrusts.
Our bodies are in perfect synchrony, still so in tune despite only being together once.
My thumb finds her clit, moving in tight circles.
Her pussy clenches like a vice, nails biting into my shoulders and scraping over my scalp.
She trembles, screams, and convulses on top of me, all the while keeping eye contact.
That alone sends me hurtling toward my finish.
“Fuuuuck,” I grunt, spilling inside her, hips jerking.
“Oh god.” She folds in on herself, chasing her breath.
She doesn’t get the chance. I seal our mouths together, out of my mind with the need to taste her again. My hands slip over her ass, seeking out where we’re connected. I groan into the kiss when my fingers trace the wet, swollen lips of her pussy stretched around me, dripping with our releases.
With me.
Where it belongs.
“Dex,” she gasps when my index finger slides in next to my cock.
“You can take it.” My mouth lowers to her neck, kissing her tenderly as undiscovered, animalistic urges take over. “This cunt loves being full of me, doesn’t it, Trouble? You want more?”
She nods fervently, rocking herself on my fingers and cock. “Mm-hmm. Please.”
It’s tight, so fucking tight. She squirms on top of me, whining softly as I fuck my cum back into her.
Then, we’re moving.
I’m striding toward the tent, zero fucks about how obscene this is. As I lay her down on the thin mattress, we completely and utterly lose ourselves in each other again and again.
It’s almost midnight by the time we unroll our sleeping bags, ready for a night under the stars.
Florence’s lays untouched to my left while the woman herself stretches out on top of me.
Hip to hip. Chest to chest. She’s oblivious to the twinkling sky overhead.
Instead, the tips of her fingers trace over the exposed ink on my torso and arms.
She pauses over the great horned owl on the inside of my bicep.
“I like this one.” Her lips corkscrew. “Is it because you’re old and wise too?”
A squeal shrills through the air as my fingers dig into her sides. “We need to find something to do with that smart mouth.”
When she recovers from her laughing fit, she raises an eyebrow suggestively. “Is that so…”
Blood rushes to my cock. I’m not old by any means, but my refractory period isn’t what it used to be. Apparently, that doesn’t matter with Florence.
I smack her ass. “Behave.”
She grins. “Don’t worry—you’re still a lumbersnack in my eyes.”
“I’m afraid to ask what that is.”
As predicted, the temperature dropped. I’m in a pair of joggers, and Florence is in a pair of bright pink pajamas with llamas printed on them. She didn’t allow me to put on my sweatshirt and takes advantage of my bare skin, studying my tattoos lazily.
Her fingers skate down to my wrist. A sailing ship, tall waves crashing against its hull, sits over my pulse point.
“When did you get this one?”
“Three summers ago.” I shiver under her featherlight touch. “It’s my dad’s boat, the Triumph.”
“I’m surprised you don’t have an axe or ‘I love wood’ somewhere.”
“That’s on my ass.”
Her laughter peals out of her, harmonizing with the buzzing of cicadas and rustling of branches in the wind. “Oh, this I have to see.”
“You asking me to drop my pants, Miss Sadler?” My voice comes out a lot huskier than intended.
A rosy blush coats Florence’s cheeks. “Awful forward of you, Mr. Moore. Is that how you talk to all your employees?”
Like twisting vines, our fingers intertwine, my larger hand engulfing her smaller dainty one. Her smooth skin coasts against my rough palm. She raises our linked hands and rubs her thumb over the four inked letters along my knuckles.
“V-I-T-A. Vita.” Her green eyes meet my waiting gaze. “I’ve always wanted to ask what this means?”
“It’s Latin for life, or a way of life.”
She studies me acutely, closer than anyone ever has. It’s unnerving, but I don’t shy away.
When a yawn stretches Florence’s mouth and she snuggles into my chest like a lazy cat, humming contently, we share a sleepy smile. It’s one that tilts the scales, tipping me toward what I’ve known since this firecracker of a woman stole my favorite flannel and defiled my Scrabble board.
Florence Sadler is bound to turn my life upside down, and I’m not sure I’m against it.