Chapter Thirty-three
Daisy-Mae
The afternoon sun sets the sky on fire in a vibrant show of pinks and oranges, as it sinks closer to the horizon.
There’s something so peaceful about watching the color change from West’s gorgeous open plan kitchen and dining room as I prepare supper.
West is outside with Waylon, putting Ham to bed.
The crazy steer seems to love my son, and laps up all of the attention and newborn gurgles.
I love hearing West talk Waylon through his evening chores, almost as much as I love hearing him whisper goodnight as we’re climbing into bed.
The acrid stench of burning garlic assaults me, and I glance at the black dots popping out of the pan. “Jesus.” I yank the pot off the stove and place it in the sink. The faucet runs and steam billows up from the boiling pan into my face.
“Everything okay in there?” West says, coming in from outside.
“Yeah,” I call back. “Just burning down your house, is all.”
He chuckles as he and Waylon enter the kitchen. “Is mama burning down our house?” he coos to the baby.
My heart trips all over itself at him calling it, “our house”. Get a grip, Daisy.
“You want me to take over?”
“No. I’ve got it.” I say somewhat defensively.
“Okay,” West holds up his free hand in surrender. “Sorry. Our bad.” He looks down at Waylon. “Is it just me, or is Mama extra grumpy today?”
I frown. “Hey, do not turn my son against me.”
“Never. I’m going to put him to bed because I think he’s almost ready.”
“Okay.”
“Then I can help, because that did not smell appetizing,” he whispers to Waylon just loud enough for me to hear.
I go back to chopping garlic, and then try again with the alfredo sauce in a new pan.
This time it goes a little more to plan and within minutes, I have the most delicious white sauce and hot homemade linguine served up into bowls.
I’m just about to pour over the sauce when the volume on the TV gets turned up and West says, “Dais, you’re gonna wanna see this. ”
“What?” I ask, coming out of the kitchen with a dish towel in my hands. On the television is my ex-husband’s face, and down below, at the bottom of the news report are the words, “local man’s grizzly murder”. My knees go out from under me.
“No,” I say, but I think it gets caught in my throat. “No.” All I can think is that man shares DNA with my son, even though he was a shitty husband and an even shittier father, Waylon’s dad is dead.
“Dais,” West says, sinking to the floor beside me and pulling me into his lap. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay.”
“He’s dead.”
“Shh. I know.”
Dinner forgotten, West wraps me tighter in his arms, and I snuggle deeper into him. He lifts me in a fireman’s carry and takes me to bed, holding me tight and kissing my face and hands and collarbone as I dissolve into tears.
***
Silvery moonlight filters through the windows of West’s bedroom.
My eyelids are heavy, swollen, and my throat is hoarse, but my tears have all dried up for now.
West is stretched out beside me, his warmth the only thing anchoring me in my grief.
I don’t think he’s asleep, and I’m sure as hell not going to drift off for a good, long while.
What if whoever killed Eddie finds us, finds my son and West? All this time, I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop. I sniff against his chest, and he smooths a hand over my back, letting me know he’s awake. I shift and look up at him. “You didn’t eat.”
“I don’t care,” he says quietly. “Are you hungry though? Can I get you somethin’?”
I shake my head and run my fingers through the stubble on his cheek, He cups my hand with his and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.
“I’m so sorry, Dais. Eddie deserved a lot of things for the shit he put you and Waylon through, but no one deserves to go out like that.”
“West?”
“Yeah, darlin’?”
I don’t know what I planned to ask. I don’t know what I want in this moment, other than him.
God. I want him so much. I have for months.
It’s all I think about. I don’t know how to ask for it though, so I shift and press a kiss to his lips.
He tucks my hair behind my ear, and when I pull away, his blue eyes are bright with fire.
“What do you want, Dais?” he whispers, and his words are thick with longing.
“I want you.”
“Thought you’d never fucking ask.”
He kisses me, leaning over me with his weight.
His tongue thrusts deep into my mouth and desire sets my whole body alight.
I’m raw, heartsick, and I feel as if all my frayed edges are about to unravel, but god do I want him.
Not to distract me from the hell my heart is currently feeling, but because on some level, I think I’ve wanted West Winchester my whole life.
He slides his palm over my breasts, squeezing.
They’re full, and it hurts a little, but it stimulates letdown promising some relief.
West breaks the kiss and lowers his mouth to my nipple.
Heat sparks within my veins, and my milk beads on the tip of my breast. Warm spray fills his mouth, and he growls his approval, deep and guttural as he drinks his fill.
I moan and drive my fingers through his hair. His hand glides over my abdomen and dips between my legs.
“Spread those beautiful thighs for me, darlin’. Let me see how fucking hot your cunt is.”
“It’s hot,” I murmur and bite my lip, unable to believe how wanton and needy my voice sounds. “Hot and dripping.”
“It better fucking be.” He growls as his fingers slide back and forth over me with long, languid strokes that tease and massage. A licentious grin tips one side of his mouth. “You weren’t kidding.”
Pleasure arcs from my breast to my pussy.
I moan and rock my hips into his touch. I don’t feel self-conscious in the slightest. I don’t think about the new softness to my body, the stretchmarks, or extra pad of fat on my belly.
All I can think of is how much he wants me, and how desperate I am to feel him thrusting into me, how his hands graze my clit, my labia, and even my asshole and continue to tease.
“Please, West,” I beg. “I need you inside me.”
“Soon, darlin’. Soon you’ll be stuffed so full of my cock you’ll be begging me to quit, but I’ve waited so fucking long, I plan on taking my time with you.”
“No,” I pant. “I don’t want to wait. Please?”
“You will wait, darlin’.” He lowers his head to my nipple and sucks greedily.
My pussy contracts, so close to coming that even he must feel it, because he stills, quits his teasing, and waits for my body to relax again before releasing my breast with a pop.
“Like I said, I plan on eking this out until your greedy cunt is so wet you’re soaking my sheets.
You’ll wait, baby, until you’re so rung out with pleasure, with wanting, that you’re begging me to stuff you full of my cum. ”
Oh god. How is it possible for men like him to exist? How is it possible to be so heartbroken, and so filled with longing at the same time?
“Kiss me,”
“So fucking demanding. I can’t wait to hear what comes out of your mouth when you’re seconds from coming.”
“I’m so fucking close already,” I whisper, half accusatory.
West grins, and my god, is he beautiful when he’s cocky like this.
And speaking of cock. He slides off his boxers, exposing his glorious length.
I reach out and stroke his velvety tip, smiling at the bead of precum glistening at the slit.
I stroke my hand down the length of him, loving the way he fills my palm.
He clasps my wrist and stills my stroking. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to fucking explode, and neither of us want that, darlin’.” He eases my hand away and takes hold of his shaft, then he settles between my legs and slides the thick head of his cock over my clit.
I moan, a little too loudly. West covers my mouth and whispers, “As much as that sound is music to my ears, if you wake the baby right now, I will fucking die. You need to be quiet, darlin’. Can you do that, or do I need to gag you?”
My eyes widen, but West’s cheeky grin is back, and he leans in and whispers, “Admit it, that got your pussy clenching, didn’t it? God, I can’t wait to fuck you properly, where there’s no one around to hear us and nothing but the sound of your breathy little moans against my ear.”
He strokes his cock through my wetness, over my clit, again and again, until the wet slide of his thick dick has me spasming around him.
“Oh, god,” I breathe and bite down on his fingers. His wide crown glides in delicious, languid strokes, as I come and buck beneath him.
“So fucking beautiful.”
Milk beads at my nipples and spills down my body. West tracks the movement. “Fuck that’s hot.” He thrusts forward and licks up the mess, his cock pressing harder against my clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me again.
He lines up his cock with my entrance and pushes inside, causing all the air to leave my lungs in a rush.
He trails kisses over my neck and breast as he seats himself fully inside me, and then he props himself up, giving me an unobstructed view of all that gorgeous hard-won muscle.
I run my hands over his chest and abs, and the gleam in his eyes as he notices my appreciation, drives us both crazy.
“I love your pussy like this, so fucking soft and wet, but something tells me you’ll be even tighter when your beautiful ass is in the air and my cock is stuffing your cunt full of my cum.”
For a man of few words, he sure picks the right time to use them.
West pulls out, the wide head of his dick slipping free.
I cry at the sudden loss, the way my pussy gapes without him, and then he’s flipping me onto my front.
Strong hands grip my hips and lift my ass in the air, as his big body covers mine, his front to my back.
West eases inside, going slower now that the angle has changed, and everything feels much more intense.
“I fucking knew it.” He growls. “Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking tight. So perfect. Do you have any idea how fucking hard you make me?”
I wiggle my hips and turn my head, looking at him over my shoulder. “I have some idea.” I arch my back and circle my hips in time with his thrusts.
West grins. “I’ll bet you do, darlin’,” he punctuates my nickname with a merciless thrust that has all the air leaving my lungs.
He snakes a hand around my waist, and it dips between my thighs, teasing my clit with expert strokes.
I last all of about a minute with him inside me and his hand between my legs.
“West, please? I need to come,” I pant. “And I want you coming inside me.”
He groans and tightens his hold on my waist, pulling us both upright into a kneeling position. “Then come, darlin’. Fucking milk my cock with your greedy little cunt until I’m spilling inside you.”
That’s all the inspiration I need, my pussy clenches as I explode around him. In turn, he swells and spills inside me, warm cum fills me, as he massages my breasts and buries his face in my neck. West collapses back on the bed, taking me with him as we fall in a heap of sweaty, sticky limbs.
“Not gonna lie, I could get used to feeling your freshly fucked naked body against me, Dais.”
I laugh quietly. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to that kind of pleasure.”
“Oh, you will. I’m gonna make any man you’ve ever laid with look celibate,” he says, as he rolls on top of me, his thick cock heavy and sticky against my inner thigh already growing hard again.
“I’ve only ever had sex with Eddie,” I say, before I can stop myself.
“Hell, I’m sorry, Dais. That was insensitive of me.”
“It’s okay.” I shrug. “Honestly, I’m just glad I’m not still fucking crying.”
He chuckles darkly. “Well, if distraction is what you need, I practically invented the damn concept.” He shifts down the bed, settling between my legs. He pushes my thighs open, leans forward, and inhales. I’m so fucking mortified that I try to slam my legs closed, but West is not having any of it.
“I told you I like to get messy.” He slides his arms around my thighs like a band and lowers his head to my clit, giving it the smallest of kisses.
“I like seeing my cum spill out of you, but I like your pussy stuffed with it more.” As he says this, he scoops his cum back inside me, exploring with his fingers and tongue until I’m crying his name and pleading for more.