Chapter 24 DAN
DAN
Ilie back with a sigh, turn the TV off, and stare up at the dark ceiling, the only light from my phone as it charges on the bedside table.
Rose sleeps beside me, the movie forgotten.
I shift in the bed to face her, sliding my arm under her pillow to stretch out.
She whimpers as she adjusts herself, her body curled into a ball.
I swipe a lock of blonde hair from her face, then run a finger over her dark-brown roots that remind me of the girl she was. My flower.
She whimpers again and sighs. “You like the brunette, don’t you?”
A puff of air leaves my lips. “Baby, I couldn’t care less what colour hair you have.”
Between her brow, a wrinkle forms as if she’s annoyed.
“You’re beautiful, regardless.”
A smile pushes her cheeks up. “You can compliment me all you like. You’re still not getting into my knickers.”
“That sounds like a challenge.”
She opens one eye, the other hidden by the pillow. Her gaze roams over my bare chest. “You’d better have left your boxers on.”
I quirk a grin. “Are you afraid you might be tempted?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She closes her eyes, probably to hide a dramatic eye-roll.
“It might help you sleep. You’ve been tossing and turning for the last hour.”
“Probably because I have your huge arm under my pillow.”
“I can move it.”
“Don’t you dare. I’ve just got comfy.”
“Okay.” I shuffle closer to her, my dick hard as a fucking rock.
It’s almost painful. I only have myself to blame.
I shouldn’t have lied and said there were no other rooms, but I may as well be in here, tortured.
Another room would be even worse, not knowing if she’s safe or not.
“We should just fuck and get it out of our system.”
“Wasn’t the shower enough to satisfy you?” She smiles with her eyes closed, still pretending she’s tired.
“You saw that, huh?” A laugh shakes my shoulders. I don’t know if it’s because I know her from our time before, but I feel strangely comfortable with her, as if no time has passed at all. The back-and-forth banter is also kinda fun.
“It was hard to miss.”
“You could’ve joined me.”
“I’d just had a shower. I didn’t need another.”
“I saw your shaver on the side.” My hand reaches her leg under the covers, my fingertips gliding up her silky smooth thigh. “Did you shave your pussy?”
Her eyes open as my fingers tease the small lace trim around her nightdress. The way she swallows, but stays silent, tells me everything I need to know.
“I could’ve trimmed it for you. After all, I am your gardener.” I risk trailing my fingers higher over the satin material at the apex of her thighs.
Her hand flies out from underneath the covers and wraps around my throat. “You touch me there again and I’ll strangle you in your sleep.” Her eyes narrow, as if daring me to take the bait.
“Is that a promise? I’ve always wanted to try breath play.” I stroke her pussy again because I just can’t help myself. “Tell me, fiore mio, is your figa as soaked as it was on the boat that day?”
“You’re insufferable.” She lets out an irritated groan as she straddles me, wrapping both hands around my neck, but the pressure is barely a caress, like silk wrapping around steel. “Why are you so irritating?”
My hands grip her fleshy thighs as I lift my hips.
Her tits bounce under her satin camisole dress, her nipples pebbled beneath the fabric, and my cock grows another inch.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
She rubs her clit against my dick, her hips rolling as she bears her weight down on my neck. Leaning over, she whispers, “If we’re doing this, we do it on my terms.”
She has me in a chokehold, literally. It’s obvious she needs the upper hand. I’ll let her have her fun tonight, but she will submit to me eventually.
“Whatever you say, Rose.” I lift my hips again, loving the way her full breasts bounce, chafing her nipples under her camisole.
“Oh gosh, Dan.” She rocks her hips, grinding against me. “Take your boxers off.” Climbing off me, she kneels on the bed and whips her knickers down.
My eyes widen at her bare pussy, smooth like silk. I can’t stop the smile from curling my lips. “You really did shave for me. You know I appreciate the thought, but you didn’t have to.”
She rolls her eyes. “It wasn’t for you. I like the feel of being dolphin smooth, that’s all.”
“Take your top off. I want to see your glorious tits.”
“No. My terms remember.” She pushes at my chest. “Lie back down.”
I grip her wrist, swipe my leg under her, forcing her onto her back as I pin her to the mattress.
She pants as if she’s running for her life, her heart beating wildly beneath her ribs, like a caged bird trying to escape. Her body writhes beneath me, but I pin her legs under mine, a self-defence tactic that I should probably teach her one day. “Let me go.”
“You can’t escape me, little bird.” I dip my head to inhale her scent, a subtle sweetness, as if she’s bathed in rose petals. “You can ride my dick all you want, but not before I taste you.”
She sucks in a breath, her chest rising, pressing against mine, with only a thin satin camisole between us, her dressing gown falling open, exposing her shoulder.
I dip my head to kiss her mouth, but she turns her head, so I kiss down her neck instead, needing to have my mouth on every part of my woman.
If I can make her feel good like I did before, maybe she can learn to trust me, because this time I’m not going anywhere.
She is my only mission and right now, my only task is to make her come so hard she’ll never want to let me go.
Hovering above her shoulder, I trace a silvery scar with my fingertip. “What happened here?”
Her eyes widen, she tilts her head, glancing at the scar marring her smooth skin like a blemish on a perfectly sculpted work of art. But we’ve both got scars, some too deep to see.
She tugs her dressing gown over her shoulder. “I… I was in an accident. It’s nothing.”
With one hand holding my weight above her, I ease her dressing gown to the side and dip my head to kiss her there. My heart aching that I wasn’t there for her. I know all about accidents.
She runs her fingers through my hair, her heavy breaths fanning my neck send a shiver down my spine. “It’s just a scar.”
“It’s not just a scar. It’s a reminder that I wasn’t around to take care of you, but all that’s gonna change now.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I mean it, fiore mio.” Lifting her nightdress, I stare down at her bare breasts. More than a handful, with stiff pink peaks begging to be sucked. “I’ve thought about these tits so many times.”
They shake as she laughs. “Seriously?”
“It’s true.”
“What are you, fifteen?”
My lips quirk. “Sweetheart, no fifteen-year-old could imagine the things I’ve thought about doing with your tits.” I lick my lips, saliva running down my tongue.
She grips my jaw between her finger and thumb. “If you spit on my breasts, I’ll slap you.”
My chest shakes with a silent laugh, but I pull my tongue into my mouth. The way she glares at me, she’s deadly serious and it’s fucking hot as hell. Keeping eye contact, I dip my head, taking her nipple into my mouth.
She arches her back, sucking air between her teeth before crying out with pleasure.
I move to the other breast, making sure they both get the same attention, and I bite down, then swirl my tongue around the stiffened nub. My dick weeps from the tip. Having this woman at my mercy is all too much, but I want to take my time with her while I reacquaint myself with her body.
“You’re delicious.” My voice is rough, thick with reverence as I kiss my way south, taking my time, honouring every inch of her skin like it’s the Holy Grail.
When I reach the curve of her stomach, I pause as the sight of those silver lines some most likely from pregnancy.
It punches the air from my lungs. They shimmer like soft lightning bolts across her round belly, a map of everything I missed.
“I should have been there when you got these.” My throat tightens as I trace a finger over the stretch marks, each one a silent testament to the life she carried without me.
Guilt and wonder twist in my gut as I press a kiss to each line, my lips lingering as if I can kiss away each scar and atone for my absence.
“I should have been the one to rub lotion on your belly, stroke your back, massage your feet.”
She props herself up on her elbows with a soft smile in the dim light. “I’m always down for a foot massage.”
I chuckle under my breath, the sound shaky with emotion I can’t quite hide.
“Anything for my flower.” I lean back on my haunches and lift her leg, my rough hands sliding over the soft silk of her skin.
She’s warm beneath my touch, smooth as butter, and it wrecks me—how familiar she feels, yet how foreign this moment is after all the time lost.
I bring her foot to my lips and kiss the sole, my heart thudding in my chest as her toes curl slightly in response. I run my thumb down the centre, watching the ripple of a shiver arc through her body like a live wire.
“That tickles.” Her voice is breathy, lashes fluttering closed as I do it again, slower this time, wanting to memorise how she feels and show her through touch, everything I can’t say.
I keep massaging her foot, working the arch gently, kissing the inside of her ankle like every touch is an apology.
After a few minutes, I rest her foot on my shoulder and kiss my way down her calf, then to the delicate bend of her knee, where I pause, breathing her in as if I’m trying to fill a void inside me I’ve carried for far too long.
Her arousal glistens in the dimly lit room. She’s soaked, and I can’t wait to bury my tongue inside her dripping cunt. Her leg trembles as I lick down her inner thigh. “That tickles too.”
I hike her other leg over my shoulder, my face inches from her pussy. I blow on her bare skin, coated in her arousal. “Does that tickle as well?”
Her body shivers, a breathy whisper comes out of her parted mouth, “Yes.”
“How about this?” I dip my tongue into her entrance, then run it through her seam, searching for her little bud.
Her head tilts back. “Yes,” she cries, her fists clenching the sheets at her side.
Feeling for the little button tucked deep inside her soft folds, I circle my tongue, then latch on and suck when I hit the spot
Her body vibrates around me, but I hold her still, pushing my hand against her abdomen. She lifts her hips, grinding against my face.
I push two fingers into her heat, curling and stroking the tight walls of her pussy, and groan around her clit, sending a vibration straight to her core. Lifting my head, our gaze connects. “I can’t get enough of you, fiore mio.”
She fists my hair and pushes my face back to her pussy. “Then stop talking and lick.”
I smile against her heat. “I knew I’d have you begging, eventually.”
“That was an order, soldier. I’m not begging for no man.”
My little flower hasn’t just bloomed—she’s commanding the whole fucking garden now. And fuck, it just makes me want her more. I dip my head, burying my tongue between her folds and obey, devouring her, biting her beautiful, plump pussy and licking her clit as if my life depends on it.
“That’s it. Don’t stop.” Her hips lift, meeting every stroke of my tongue, my fingers buried deep inside of her, hitting every spot she craves, but I need to feel her come on my cock. This isn’t enough with her. I need to be inside her, claim her, ruin her.