Chapter 10
ten
. . .
Wayne
I can't hold back anymore. Not after her confession that confirmed what I already suspected. Not after she demanded to know when like she can’t wait either.
The knowledge that no other man has ever tasted her, touched her, been inside her burns through me like wildfire, setting off something primitive and possessive in my chest. Mine.
She'll be mine. Mine only. I deepen the kiss that started as a brush of lips, my hand sliding from her cheek to the back of her neck, holding her in place as I slant my mouth over hers.
She makes a small sound in the back of her throat—surprise and pleasure mixed together—and opens for me instantly, eager and trusting in a way that makes my cock throb painfully behind my zipper.
My tongue slides against hers, teaching her the rhythm, showing her how good it can be between us. She's a quick learner, mimicking my movements, getting bolder with each passing second. Her small hands clutch at my shirt, bunching the fabric in her fists like she's afraid I'll pull away again.
Not this time, angel. This time I'm giving you what we both want.
I break the kiss only to trail my lips along her jaw, down the slender column of her throat.
Her pulse flutters beneath my mouth like a trapped bird.
She smells incredible—something floral mixed with the clean scent of soap and the musk of arousal that I can already detect, making my nostrils flare with hunger.
"Wayne," she breathes, head falling back to give me better access to her neck. "Please."
She doesn't even know what she's begging for. Doesn't understand the depth of pleasure waiting for her. But she will. I'll show her.
"Stand up," I murmur against her skin, pulling back just enough to help her to her feet.
She complies immediately, trusting me completely. We're still on the porch, the swing creaking as my weight leaves it. The night has fully settled around us, nothing but stars and the distant chorus of crickets for witnesses.
I take her hand and lead her down the porch steps, out onto the lawn where the grass is soft and cool beneath our feet. The moon is nearly full, casting enough light to see by. To see her—cheeks flushed, lips swollen from my kisses, eyes wide with anticipation and nerves.
"You're so goddamn beautiful," I tell her, cupping her face in both hands. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"
She shakes her head, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. Growing bolder by the second.
I kiss her again, unable to resist the temptation of that mouth. While our lips are locked, I walk her backward until she's pressed against the massive oak tree at the edge of the yard. The perfect support for what I have planned.
My hands slide down her sides, mapping the curves of her body through the thin fabric of her sundress. She shivers beneath my touch, nipples tightening into hard peaks that brush against my chest.
"I'm going to taste you," I tell her, voice rough with need. "Going to make you come with my mouth."
Her eyes widen, pupils dilating until only a thin ring of hazel remains. "Oh," she whispers, the single syllable filled with nervous anticipation.
"Tell me if you want me to stop," I say, though it would kill me to do so. "Any time."
She nods, swallowing visibly. "I trust you."
Those three words hit me harder than any declaration of love could. She trusts me. This innocent, perfect creature trusts me—a man more than twice her age with a hard cock and head full of filthy thoughts—to be her first.
I'm going to make it so fucking good for her.
Slowly, giving her time to object, I drop to my knees in the grass before her. Her breath catches, understanding dawning on her face as she looks down at me. I hold her gaze as my hands find the hem of her dress, bunching the fabric slowly, inch by inch, up her smooth thighs.
"Wayne," she says again, but it's not a protest. It's wonder. Anticipation.
"I've been dreaming about this," I tell her, voice low and rough. "About how you taste. How you'll sound when you come for me."
The dress rises higher, revealing the simple cotton panties beneath—pale blue, already visibly damp at the center. My mouth waters at the sight. I lean forward, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh, just above her knee. Her skin is impossibly soft, warm against my lips.
"Spread your legs for me, angel."
She complies, shifting her stance wider. I reward her with another kiss, higher this time. Then another, and another, working my way up the inside of her thigh. She's trembling now, small hands reaching down to tangle in my hair.
When I reach the edge of her panties, I glance up at her face. Her head is thrown back against the tree trunk, eyes half-closed, lips parted. Beautiful. Perfect.
I hook my fingers into the waistband of her underwear and drag them down her legs, helping her step out of them. Then I guide one of her legs over my shoulder, opening her completely to me.
"Look at you," I growl, taking in the sight of her pussy—pink and glistening and perfect. "So pretty. So wet for me already. A man would commit murder for one glimpse of this pretty little thing, baby.”
She makes a small, embarrassed sound, trying to close her thighs. I hold her firm.
"Don't hide from me," I tell her. "Never hide from me."
Before she can respond, I lean in and drag my tongue through her folds in one long, slow lick. The taste of her explodes across my tongue—sweet and tangy and purely female. Perfect. I groan against her flesh, the vibration making her gasp.
"Wayne!" Her fingers tighten in my hair, pulling slightly in surprise.
I do it again, slower this time, savoring every inch of her. She's so responsive, hips jerking with each pass of my tongue. I find her clit—small and swollen—and circle it lazily, learning what makes her moan, what makes her thighs tremble against my shoulders.
"That's it," I encourage, voice muffled against her pussy. "Let me hear you, angel."
She whimpers, head thrashing against the tree trunk as I increase the pressure, the speed.
My hands grip her hips, holding her steady as I feast on her.
I'm rock hard in my jeans, cock straining painfully against the zipper, but I ignore my own need.
This is about her. About showing her how good it can be.
"Wayne," she pants, "I feel…something's happening..."
I smile against her flesh. "That's it, angel. You're getting close." I slide a finger through her wetness, teasing her entrance without pushing inside. Not yet. "Just feel it. Let it happen."
Her body is coiling tight, muscles tensing. I can feel her getting closer to the edge with every pass of my tongue across her clit. She's making the most incredible sounds—breathy moans and whimpers that are going straight to my cock.
"Please," she begs, though I doubt she knows what she's begging for. "Please, I need..."
"I know what you need," I tell her, replacing my tongue with my thumb so I can look up at her face. "You need to come. Need me to make you fall apart."
She nods frantically, beyond words now. I return my mouth to her clit, sucking gently while my finger continues to tease her entrance. She's so tight, so wet. My cock throbs with the need to be inside her, to feel that tightness gripping me, but not yet. Not tonight. Tonight’s about her.
"Come for me, good girl," I murmur against her slick flesh. "Come for me now."
The endearment pushes her over the edge. She shatters with a cry that might be my name, her pussy pulsing against my mouth, thighs clamping around my head. I keep going, gentler now, helping her ride out every wave of pleasure, drawing out her orgasm until she's sobbing with the intensity of it.
Only when her body goes limp, when her hands fall away from my hair, do I pull back. I look up at her from my position on my knees, taking in the sight of her—flushed, panting, eyes glazed with pleasure. I've never seen anything more beautiful.
"That's my good girl," I praise, helping her lower her shaking leg from my shoulder. "So perfect for me."
I stand, gathering her into my arms as her knees buckle. She clings to me, face buried in my chest, still trembling with aftershocks.
"Wayne," she whispers against my shirt, voice full of wonder and confusion and need. "That was..."
"Just the beginning," I promise, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Just a taste of what I'm going to give you."
She looks up at me then, eyes wide and trusting. Her lips find mine, kissing me deeply, tasting herself on my tongue without hesitation. The action is so unexpectedly bold, so fucking erotic, that I groan into her mouth, cock jerking against the confines of my jeans.
When we break apart, she's smiling—shy but satisfied. And I know, with absolute certainty, that she was made for me. That I'll spend the rest of my life worshipping every inch of her.
My perfect angel.