3. Luke
luke
My feet didn’t make a sound as I approached the far wall of her home. I breathed in, and my mouth watered. I had no idea how the hell the scent of cookies lingered in the air surrounding her cabin, but it did.
Or maybe it’s the monster inside of me that has me thinking otherwise?
Either way, I could have sworn I could pick up the soft notes of vanilla and cinnamon and chocolate with every breath I took. It made me feel unhinged. Or more than I already was. Never had I had this kind of reaction to a woman.
Not even close.
If you got all the women I’d dated exclusively and not together, they would have told you I was the most well-adjusted man out there.
This wasn’t my own male pride talking, either.
I didn’t have bad blood with any of them, had never cheated.
I had always been a supportive partner. Never jealous.
Now I hardly recognized that man. That man didn’t exist inside of me anymore.
The mere existence of Olive Trejo had changed that man.
Maybe not completely. I still wanted to be that supportive partner, hold her hand through whatever life threw at us, but it was more than that.
I wanted to shield and protect her from the world.
And heaven help anyone who ever hurt her.
I’d burn everything to the ground if something bad happened to her.
My lips quirked upward as my hand touched the cool glass window that looked into her bedroom.
My eyes caught the discarded dress on the ground.
Images of her pulling it up and over her head, then letting it messily fall to the ground assaulted my mind.
My own little feisty brat. Fuck, I wouldn’t mind cleaning up after her.
I licked my lips when I spotted the lacey white bra next to the discarded yellow material.
She’d shown up at my house with the idea of hooking up.
I wasn’t being cocky. I was sure of it.
I wanted to tsk at her. If she thought I would let her use me for one night, she was really confused.
A woman like Olive needed to be explored.
Cherished. Worshipped for a hell of a lot longer than a couple of hours.
Forever, the thing in my head growled. I let myself smile at the thought. Forever. That was what I wanted.
Sneaking around like some kind of Peeping Tom and getting caught wouldn’t help that, though. So, don’t get caught , a voice inside me growled. That’s when I saw the movement in her room. My girl rolled in bed, and even as I stood outside her window, I heard her huff with frustration.
“Stupid sheriff,” she muttered. My lips twitched. I didn’t take any offense. She was thinking about me. In bed. That was enough for me.
She rolled again, punching her pillow before she turned so her back hit the mattress. She kicked off the blanket, and my mouth ran dry. My palm flattened against the window silently.
In nothing but a pair of what looked like black, high-cut cotton panties and a white tank top so thin and well-worn you could make out the outline of her dark nipples even in the darkness, she looked like a fallen angel.
My very own temptation.
One I would happily let hold my hand right through the fiery gates of hell if it meant having just a little longer with her. I swallowed and watched as my bad girl moved her hands. Is she… Holy. Shit.
There was no way I was this lucky.
One of her hands moved and toyed with the waistband of her panties as her pretty, thick thighs rubbed together. My eyes drifted up her body to her face, and heat struck my bloodstream at the sight. Her eyes were shut, lips parted with a slight blush on her cheeks.
I wanted to do nothing more than storm inside and offer up my help. What would she do if I knocked on the door right now? Would she kick me out like she thought I had, or would she invite me in and let me help her out?
Knowing Olive, she would answer the door wearing that barely-there getup she was in and have me follow her inside…
on my knees. The thought made me smile. But that smile died as her free hand moved up her body, slowly teasing her torso with the light pads of her fingertips.
My own hands ached to touch her. To learn how she liked to be touched.
Her fingers slowly dipped beneath the material, and my mouth went bone dry as she held her full tit in her hand.
She squeezed, and I might not have heard it, but I knew she made a soft little whimper.
One I heard clear as day in my heart. Her body writhed against the mattress of her bed, and those thighs of hers squirmed.
My girl liked to be teased.
The realization made my mind run wild with possibilities and all the ways I could make her twist and turn. My lips pressed together as my hands fisted at my sides. I’d slowly work her body up until she was left in a naughty, wet mess, begging me for more.
One knee bent, snapping me out of my thoughts. Her foot rested on the mattress, and her legs opened a little bit wider. Not wide enough for me to see much, not with the shadows, but even then, I didn’t dare blink.
Olive’s fingers crawled under the waistband of her panties, and her soft gasp felt like it echoed into the quiet night. My cock strained against my jeans almost painfully. I palmed the motherfucker for relief I knew I wasn’t going to get like that.
There was no way I was going to wait until I got home to get off.
Shit, I wasn’t even going to try.
My hand slithered down from the glass window. One-handed, I undid the jeans I’d tossed on commando, and my cock, thick and long and fucking dripping at the tip, sprang forward. I spit on my hand and wrapped my warm, slightly rough palm around myself as I watched Oli like a hawk.
Soaking in the sight of her, knowing I would be replaying it in my mind for the rest of my life.
Her head tipped back against her pillow as her hand moved.
Back and forth, her pretty hips moved. Undulating as her fingers worked their magic.
My teeth mashed together in frustration I couldn’t get a better view of what she was doing.
Soon.
I could see it, too. The way I would have her do this for me right in front of me.
I’d start off sitting in a chair at the end of her bed, very well knowing I would end up kneeled between her legs for a front-row show of her working that pretty pussy up for me.
Her eyes wouldn’t be shut like they were right then.
No, those pretty, brown eyes would be locked with mine, saying so much to me without uttering a goddamn word.
My hand shuttled up and down a little faster, my grip slightly tighter.
“Please…” she whispered, and my brows bunched with jealousy. Who are you thinking about, Cookie? I wondered. “Please,” she begged no one in particular. Next time she whimpered that beautifully would be me with me.
My jaw clenched tightly. Her hand moved faster. Her hips danced against the sheets. A glistening sheen of sweat covered her tan skin. When her top rose, revealing the soft roundness of her tit, I thought I’d lose my nut like some kind of green-behind-the-ears teenaged kid.
My girl coiled and squirmed on her bed. Feet pressed flat against the mattress as she tried to fuck her little pussy with her fingers.
Deeper , my mind shouted. Harder. Fuck. My body trembled to know what her sugary walls felt like.
My nose flared to get a hint of that pretty pussy.
My fingers deep in her or balls deep, or better yet, on my tongue.
The images in my head got filthier by the heartbeat.
The way she would envelop my two fingers.
The sounds she’d make as that little snatch molded to fit around me.
What it would be like to slide right in and stretch her tightness?
The way I’d hook my fingers against that little spongey part inside of her no one else knew how to reach.
My nose flared as my head scrambled to know how she smelled.
I needed that scent to fill my lungs more than I needed oxygen.
“Oh god! Yes, yes,” she panted, and I was on edge.
My eyes strained to see everything as much as I could. I was annoyed at myself for not sneaking in and somehow setting up a camera in her room to get a better view. Fuck, I added it to my ever-growing list of shit to do.
My chest rose and fell like I’d been working out hard.
Her shirt rose higher, giving me a clearer view of her dark nipple, and I swear to god I was ready to fucking drool like my dick already was.
I pumped myself in tandem to the speed of her hand.
My head filled with what she’d sound like.
That sloppy, shiny pussy squelching as she rushed to find bliss.
“Please, more. Just like that,” she whimpered. Her back arched, and I knew she was right there, so close, when she said my name. “Luke!” she cried out, and at the sound of it, I came. Hard. Spray after spray of my seed covered my hand and even some of her cabin wall.
I was a little dizzy and definitely breathless as I slowly came down from the high of watching her.
I grinned at the sight of my cum marking her wall.
Good. I liked the idea of marking not just her body and womb but where she lived.
For now. Because I’d figure out a way to get her under my roof, our roof , as soon as possible.
Olive Trejo was mine. I just had to figure out how to make that happen.