15. Dane
DANE
She squeaks when I squeeze her too tight, but I can’t help it. My emotions are too big to be contained. I need to be closer to her. And besides, she’s clinging to me too. I bury my face in her hair, and breathe her in. Finally. Finally.
She’s carrying my child, she’s going to be my wife.
“Princess.” My hands are everywhere. I lift her, and she makes another adorable sound as I take her to my desk and balance her on the edge.
I ease back enough to look her in her eyes. I drown in them. Fuck, my girl is so perfect. Her eyes are classic blue, the sort maybe millions of people have, but the stormy colour is unique to her, and I’d recognise them anywhere. I could never get tired of looking at her.
Stephie glances to the side, where my desk is stacked with books, notes, electronic devices, and a huge computer.
“Careful—”
A crash cuts her off as I sweep the computer away from her, clearing space for her sit more comfortably.
“Oh my god, Dane, that—”
“Is irrelevant,” I growl. “I have waited and wanted you for so fucking long. I can’t wait another minute to get my mouth on you.”
And sweet girl that she is, she looks confused. “We were kissing though?”
“We were. Here.” I touch my fingers to her kiss-blushed lips. “But I have somewhere else to kiss you, and this time when I have you, I want both of us to be naked.”
Her eyes go wide.
“I don’t know about…” She swallows hard, and her chin tips down.
“What?” I ask gently, ducking so I can see her expression.
“In the bothy, cabin, cottage, whatever we’re calling it…”
I wait with far more patience than I thought possible. Apparently with Stephie, my desires don’t matter as much as letting her say exactly what she needs to. Besides, me saying things has only wrecked practically every situation with her recently. I will learn to shut up.
“I’d never had sex before,” she finishes in a rush.
It takes me a second to fully comprehend what she means. “You were a virgin?”
She bites her lip and nods, and then I’m kissing her again.
“My good girl. Such an honour,” I say around more kisses. “You’re so perfect, and I’m going to take care of you. I’ll make up for that first time, I swear—”
“You don’t have to,” she protests, hands grabbing at my clothes and my hair. “It was exactly what I wanted.”
“Cold, half dressed, with a man not fully in his right mind?” I say wryly, but I smile, because she wants me, too. A miracle.
“With you.” She slides her hands under my lapels and pushes off my suit jacket. I let her. I help her. I’d shred every item of clothing I own if it would allow her an inch more access to touch me.
“What I remember of it was exactly what I wanted too.” I kiss her softly on the lips, then grab the hem of her dress and drag it to her waist, groaning as I see that she has on little white cotton knickers with a lace panel at the side.
“I can’t believe I thought my imagination came up with this much perfection. Such an idiot.”
She laughs and fumbles with my tie, unsure how to remove it.
“I’ll fix this.” I cover her fingers with mine.
“And another time I’ll show you how to undress me, and strip you naked slowly, appreciating every inch of you.
But right now, I’m desperate for you, princess.
Take off your dress.” It’s some complicated summer thing, with straps and things, and I have to see her naked.
“You promise?” she checks.
“Yes.” My voice is raw with need. “Please, just—”
“Oh…” Her smile is sudden and bright, and I don’t know what I did to cause it, but I’m basking in sunshine like I’ve never felt before as she unties and unzips, then lifts the sundress over her head.
Her little tits are revealed, bigger than they were before, as I thought, and I groan.
My office is warm enough for her to be bare here, and although there are windows, the view over London is uninterrupted by neighbouring buildings, so it’s private.
I shove the rest of the items on the desk away, and they bang on the floor.
I should care, but I’m too busy easing Stephie back until she’s lying on the table, her brown hair fanned out on the dark wood, and I’m standing between her thighs.
I fall on her, licking one nipple before sucking it into my mouth. She gasps then cries out, writhing against me.
“Dane!”
I purr from the back of my throat. “Say my name again, princess. I’ll make you tell the whole building how much you love me making you come with my mouth. And my cock,” I add as an afterthought.
She whines as I swipe my tongue over her nipple as I hold it between my teeth, then pants, “I love all of you.”
Oh fuck, my poor cock. I need notice if she’s going to say things like that, because I twitched so hard the head hits the table. I’m leaking pre-come into my boxers. I’m so swollen from wanting her, I think I might be in danger of bursting a blood vessel.
I ignore it and concentrate on worshipping her breasts as they deserve.
Nibbles, wet kisses, sucks, and scrapes of my teeth fixed with licks that soothe.
With my hands, I roll one nipple as I attend to the other with my mouth.
And she responds so perfectly, her writhing beneath me only making the problem between my legs even worse as I think how she’ll do that as I fuck her.
“So pretty, such a good girl for me,” I mutter against her skin as I leave her breasts—for now—and kiss down her body. I reach her belly, and a wave of affection almost sweeps me away as I press my lips to where she’s swollen with our baby.
And it’s my DNA that she has in her because of that pregnancy.
I was insanely jealous of… myself. The bastard who put a baby in her and then deserted her for four months was me.
There’s a spike of anguish that I didn’t claim her that morning when I thought, just for a second, that what I dreamed might have been true.
We could have had all the exciting moments of her early pregnancy together.
But I’ll get her pregnant again. I promise that, as I kiss her bump. There will be a sibling for this child. I’ll ensure we have all the good things in our lives. And no regrets, because we’re together now.
When I reach the barrier of her knickers, I’m struck by hunger. My mouth waters.
“Up,” I order, lifting my head and tapping her hip.
“Say the word.” She arches a brow at me.
“I love you.”
She smiles and shakes her head. “I love you too. Good words, but not the one I was after.”
For a second, I’ve no idea what she’s asking. My arms have already moved to strip the fabric off her without her help, because a man has to eat, then I stop.
I get it. I know.
Leaning over her again, I cup her face in my palm and stroke my thumb across her cheek. “Please.”
Her eyes light. “Anything for you,” she whispers.
The only person I would beg lifts her hips for me, and I drag her knickers off her delectable little bottom and toss them aside.
“Such a good girl for me. Now.” I kiss her lightly, playfully, keeping my wild desires at bay until I can unleash them inside her. “Please will you let me eat your pussy until you come on my face?”
“You’d like that?” she asks disbelievingly.
“Princess, I am starving for your soft, sweet little pussy. I’ve been making myself come to the memory of how you felt on my cock, but on my tongue?
Even better. Please.” I emphasise the last word, since it seems to delight her so much to know I’m desperate for her.
“I’m begging you. Let me get on my knees and lick you.
I need to pleasure you.” I roll my hips against her, and she pushes up towards me, matching my eagerness. “Please.”
“Yes, yes.” She sounds breathless with delight, and arousal. “Of course.”
I kiss her lips, hard. “Good girl.”
“I’d do anything you asked when you say please,” she admits in a soft voice.
I’ve lowered myself to the floor, and the slight view I get of her glistening pink folds. Plush and wet and prettier even than I imagined.
“You’re so wet for me.” I push her legs apart and dive in, licking her with all the starving desire I’ve held back, right over the length of her slit. And fuck, she’s so good. She’s salty and sweet, and the thing I’ve been missing my whole life.
She jerks in surprise, and I’m pretty sure pleasure, so I catch her thighs and push them further apart. “That’s it.”
She whimpers as I do the same again, relishing her taste coating my mouth.
She’s so wet, my cheeks are already covered.
And she responds with these breathy little sounds as I lick her again and again.
It’s not long before I’m gorging myself on her, sucking at her clit and holding her shaking thighs as she repeats my name.
Discovering her is even better this time.
We have leisure and space, and a reasonable temperature.
We have a lack of possibly fatal cold or deadly mafia bastards coming after us. And she’s pregnant, and mine.
I have all day to chase her orgasm, feeling for the exact moment she’s ready to tip over and give it to me.
It’s the most wonderful challenge. A negotiation unlike any I’ve engaged in. A dance where we both want the same thing, and I have the utter joy of finding how to make her feel good.
And when she comes, it’s one of the sweetest moments of my life. I savour it, pressing my lips to her clit as she pulses beneath me.
The recollection of how she felt coming on my fingers is even better now that I know it was real and have this memory to join it. I store it away, but promise myself it’s only the beginning. I’ll have my wife coming hundreds of thousands more times over the years.
I kiss her as she recovers, and then when her head lifts and our gazes meet, I smile. “Thank you.”
A surprised huff of laughter escapes her. “Isn’t that my line?”
“No, definitely mine.” I push to my feet, and she watches entranced as I drag my shirt over my head and toe off my shoes and socks. Then I flick open my belt with a snick of leather. “And now you get to hear me say please as many times as you like.”
She gasps as I shove down my trousers and boxers in one motion, revealing my cock. Then we’re both naked, and I wrap my fingers around my shaft. Her eyeline drops to watch as I stroke myself. Pre-come has dripped down over the head.
“And you can say, ‘Please Dane, fuck me with that huge cock again.”