Chapter 6 Daphne
Daphne
I’m not kidding about having never seen anyone like him before. Sure, he may be bigger and bulkier than anyone I’ve met, but he’s also the manliest I’ve ever laid my eyes on.
He’s got a layer of ginger hair covering his chest that trails all the way toward his stomach. Thining out past his navel, it guides me to his pants.
I can feel him enough as it is; I don’t need any sort of guidance.
Struggling to believe this is really happening, that I’m willing to take such a big risk, I’ve handled love itself enough to know that it makes people do the craziest things.
Gavin, looking far too intensely at my chest, makes the first move.
Sliding one of his hands behind my back, he pushes me forward until his mouth brushes the skin between my breasts.
Keeping me in place, his other hand moves to cup one, while his mouth moves to the other.
The tickling of his beard fades away, leaving nothing but the hot heat of his tongue and skin brushing mine.
Closing my eyes, I give in to his touch and bend to him as he appreciates my chest. It’s the slight nip of his teeth that has me squirming against his lap. Something as simple as a few laps of his tongue and pinching of his fingers should not get me this worked up.
Moaning his name, I grab the wrist of the hand against my back and drag it to my front. The longer he goes, the more my body sings with approval. However, the more he touches my chest, the more the rest of my body throbs with jealousy.
There is one part of me that needs his attention the most, and he isn’t in any rush to do anything about it. So, I guide his hand where I need it and listen to a low growl leave his lips.
“Right here.” Tucking his fingers between my legs, I wonder if the heat of my arousal is hot enough to soak through the layer of fabric.
From the way he immediately curls his fingers and presses against me just right, I’m confident enough to say he can.
Unfortunately, jeans are the worst. I can feel his touch, but not close enough. I need more.
Knowing I’m not going to get what I want while he’s so distracted, I grab his face and drink in the hunger in his eyes. Just saying that we both want this feels like an understatement. Tilting his head back, I swoop in and kiss him once more.
I can feel the rumble in his chest as he lets out a low groan as I waste no time licking back into him.
Considering pushing against him to flatten his back against the couch, I quickly realize just how sturdy he is.
Like a solid oak, he proves unmovable. Funny enough, I don’t think he even notices my futile attempt.
Not while his attention is on undoing my pants.
It seems that we’re both impatient. Once he has my zipper down, I’m forced to pull away long enough to stand on unsteady feet.
“We are going fast,” he points out, his voice gravelly. “Tell me to slow down.”
“I don’t want to slow down. Not now. Now while I’m like… this.” Shoving my jeans down to my knees, I don’t even think about my underwear. Those go down as well. Leaving my body bare to the world, I feel his eyes drop. At the sight of the glossy skin between my thighs, his nostrils flare.
He moves in a blur. Almost making me trip on my clothes collecting around my ankles, my feet leave the ground without much of a warning. One second, I am drinking in this man’s hungry gaze, and the next, I’m staring at the broad of his back.
He’s slung me over his shoulder, naked and all. Oh my God.
One thing I know about myself is that I am not some thin stick who can easily be slung around. So, when Gavin makes it look easy, I am ready to squeal. Especially when his hand finds my ass, squeezing it when I squirm.
“No more holding back, then.” He moves, taking me deeper into his cabin. I don’t even have enough time to look around, not before we’re already reaching a door. He shoves it open before we’re doused in darkness.
Expecting him to move through the room with expertise, he surprises me by flicking on the lights.
I’ve been with men before, and all of them prefer dark. Sure, our eyes will eventually adjust, but seeing everything is always impossible.
Gavin doesn’t seem to want anything to do with that. Once I am bathed in the bright light, he tosses me on his bed. The softness of it makes me think, but not as much as his body does when he joins me.
“I can’t tell you how often I’ve wondered how sweet you taste.” Mumbling his thoughts, his mouth ghosts over my breasts once more. Just when I think he’s going to get lost in them again, he peppers kisses downward. “I want to lick you everywhere.”
Covering my face with my hands, the heat of my cheeks is intense enough to make me dizzy. Hardly believing such words can leave him, a gasp escapes me when he nibbles against the spot below my belly button.
Now is not the time to suddenly wonder why any of the women he’s been paired with were crazy enough not to want this. He is dripping with sex appeal. The physical form of my fantasy, I’m just now realizing.
“You were so shy and silent when we first met.” Toes curling and body arching, my thighs twitch when his hands spread me open. “Now listen to yourself…”
Another thing I’m not used to hearing is any form of dirty talk. Sure, he might not be speaking absolute filth, but the words that do leave him are doing something to me. I want him to keep talking.
“Just speaking my thoughts,” he explains before dipping lower into the bed. His mouth brushes my inner thigh before I feel the heat of his tongue lap at the skin.
Now that makes me wonder what he is thinking.
Reaching for him, my fingers slide through his ginger locks as he laps closer and closer to the source of all of my tingling. He has barely even touched me, and it feels like I’m ready to unravel.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve let someone do this,” I murmur, “I forgot how good it feels to be touched.”
“The same can be said about me.” Leaving a mark against my skin, he laps the light sting. “A little rusty, but I’ll make sure you’re satisfied. We are only starting, Daphne.”
Brushing past the promise in his voice, I soak in his words. “So that means… Not even with your previous matches?”
It shouldn’t make a difference, really. But just thinking that meeting me could make such a difference to him plucks at my heartstrings. Even more when he pulls back to meet my gaze.
“Not even with them. I didn’t want them, not like I want you.” Saying all the right words, he finally plants his mouth against my pussy.
I can feel the shape of Gavin’s tongue as he savors my flavor for the first time. He doesn’t dive straight in to where I need the contact the most. Rather, it feels more like he’s set on teasing me by taking his sweet time.
A long lick from top to bottom that makes my back bow off the mattress. I swear he chuckles, but I’m in such a daze that I can’t tell if it’s my imagination or not.
His thumbs find the sensitive inner flesh of my thighs, and with not an ounce of hesitation, he spreads me wide to see me completely exposed. I feel like I’m burning alive here beneath his gaze.
“So pretty,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “All this, I want it to be mine.”
He adds a little growl to the mine that turns my bones into straight mush. It’s a mystery how I don’t just melt into one big puddle against his bed. Even if I did, I have no doubt that this man would drink in every single drop that is me.
Gavin doesn’t wait long before he’s repeating his action, this time lingering against my clit. Circling the bundle of nerves, it’s him sucking it between his lips that has me clamping a hand on my mouth to contain a sudden cry from breaking out.
“Don’t hide it.” His demand sends vibrations straight through me, and my toes curl. “Let me hear all the sounds you can make.”
His tongue works me into a frenzy—flicking, circling, flattening. It’s relentless and perfect, and just when I think I can’t take another second, he pulls back. I whimper at the loss, all while wishing this would never end.
It has to eventually, right? Yet, I’ve got a feeling that we’re nowhere close to being finished.
When I whimper, I swear I catch another hint of a smile on his lips as his thumb rubs slow, maddening circles where his tongue lingered.
I feel the blunt pressure of a single finger at my entrance, teasing, testing my give. I’m so wet it slides in without resistance, but the fullness… It’s immediate. He’s not rough, but he’s thorough, curling that finger inside me in a way that makes me see stars.
“Jesus,” he breathes, watching my face as he works that finger in and out. He groans like he’s the one being teased. He pushes himself even more by adding a second one inside, stretching me further.
A gasp punches out of me. Both of his fingers feel huge inside me, twice, maybe three times as big as my own. The fullness is great enough that I’m tugging at his hair, needing even more as my hips move on their own, trying to seek out more friction than what he’s willing to give.
My own toys, my own lonely nights… none of it compares to this. Now that I know what this feels like, I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to what I’ve relied on for years.
One little taste, and I can already taste the addiction forming.
His fingers pump slowly, scissoring just a little, opening me up as his mouth returns to my clit. This time, his tongue is ruthless. It flicks that swollen bud in quick, precise strokes, synced with the deep, curling thrust of his fingers.
“Gavin…” My head spins, my throat aches from how hoarse my moans leave me.
“That’s it. Let go for me,” he growls, his voice muffled against me. “I want to taste it.”
It’s an order I can’t disobey. The pleasure coils, tight and hot, deep in my belly. His fingers curl, his tongue flicks, and everything around us grows fuzzier.
I come hard enough to make my cry bounce off the walls, my hips bucking against his face, my inner muscles clenching rhythmically around his fingers.
The waves seem endless, wracking through me, leaving nothing in my head but static. I can’t even wrap my mind around what happened, opting to just enjoy the pleasure as it simmers.
Slowly, gently, he eases his fingers from me. He pulls back, rising up on his knees between my splayed thighs. His mouth and beard are glistening with me. In a daze, I watch his tongue flick out and catch his bottom lip.
If he hasn’t been with anyone in a long while, I can only imagine how hungry he really is. Feeling it myself, I can’t blame him for trying to lick up the leftover juices clinging to his lips.
My gaze, hazy and spent, drifts down his body. The fabric of his jeans is strained, the outline of his erection stark and intimidating. A thick, heavy imprint that promises so much more. A weak, hazy thought floats through the fog in my head.
Maybe… he should’ve added a third finger.