Chapter 9 How Fond Are You of This Underwear? #2
“Well, then I can’t, because all of those things are true. Don’t you know how much you mean to me?” My voice cracks.
“I do. I know you love me and I’m your best friend. I do. I know I’m important to you. I’m just…all in my head, I guess.” She bites her lip, shoulders folding in. She’s retreating again, and it’s killing me that I don’t know what’s going on.
“All in your head about what?” She may not speak but her eyes are loud and clear in this moment. “Just say it Daisy. All in your head about what?”
“I thought you were gonna kiss me yesterday, okay? I thought you wanted to kiss me. And I was giddy and it was dumb and clearly, you don’t feel that way about me and it’s fine and just know I love you and our friendship and maybe I just didn’t think about this whole thing long enough because—” She stops herself with her eyes wide open. “Oh shit. Never mind. Just ignore me.”
I shake my head, smiling at her. Holy hell, Daisy might actually feel the same way.
I hold her hand and lead us out of the room straight to the pool area, and even though it’s night, I look around to make sure we’re alone.
We’re not—there’s a couple in the water, acting very, very cozy, so this is not the right spot.
I lead us fast and steady past the pool bar, past the giant wall and the flowers.
“Where are we going?” The night sky shines bright above us, but I don’t reply. I keep leading us down the stone walkway and onto the sand. I slow our steps since Daisy is wearing heels. The last thing I need is for her to break an ankle.
It’s dark, the stars shining bright above us, the path lit with lights hidden in the ground and around the bushes, but it’s still quiet and calm.
The crashing of the waves against the shore are the only sounds I need for this moment.
I turn around and walk Daisy back against a coconut tree and close the space between us.
“Ask me why I didn’t kiss you,” I whisper, my voice laced with desire.
“What?”
“Ask. Me. Why. I. Didn’t. Kiss. You.” I accentuate every word, closing the inches between us. We’re so close, I can almost taste her. So close, all I breathe is her. All I see is her.
“Why didn’t you kiss me?” she finally asks. Her voice is soft, almost shy, as if she truly doesn’t want to know and she’s just asking me because I prompted her.
“Because when I finally do kiss you, I don’t want there to be a doubt in your mind. When I finally taste you for the first time, I want you to know exactly why.”
She catches a breath when my eyes trail to her lips. I don’t expect her to say anything, but she does, forever the beautiful chatter box she is.
“I would know what, exactly?” she asks, and I smile at her, placing one hand by her head, caging her in.
“How much I’ve wanted to kiss you practically my whole life.
” She gasps, but I don’t wait a second longer.
I hold her face and lower mine down to meet hers.
The minute my lips touch hers, I know there’s no going back.
There is no way in hell I can let Daisy go.
It was never going to happen, but now, even more so.
Whatever it takes, whatever convincing she might need, she’s mine, and I’m about to show her.
I kiss her softly at first, slowly, exploring those lips I’ve memorized all my life.
I lick every crease, the edge where they touch as she opens for me.
I explore her mouth, the inside of her lips and her tongue, like if I don’t commit to memory every space, I might die.
Her tongue is matching every stroke of mine, completely driving me wild.
Her hands climb up my back delicately, pulling gently at my hair at the nape.
She moans, and I groan when I deepen the kiss.
I kiss her for who knows how long, because again, everything is frozen but her.
Nothing exists; I barely exist with her lips on mine.
Death by Daisy’s kiss could be on my tombstone; if this is how I go, I’d be a happy man.
Somehow, the space between us is too much, and she feels it too, because she opens her mouth wider, pulling my hair tighter between moans and cries that die on my lips. Damn, she’s so hot.
I hold her hip and close the small space between us. My dick presses against her, and she widens her stance, allowing me in. Damn, so hot.
We kiss, lick, bite. We moan and gasp and grab.
Desperate for each other. Desperate for more.
Her hands are frantically exploring while mine hold us steady.
I push my pelvis forward, and as she opens her legs wider, I thank my lucky stars for the slit in her dress that immediately allows access to her core.
I push up as she draws a circle around my dick, and we both moan.
I let go of her lips and look at her, asking for permission or mercy, I’m not sure which.
It’s definitely one or the other, because I can’t hold it in anymore.
I’m willing to be patient and go slow if she needs me to, but then, I need a breather. I need to walk. I need a shower.
Daisy doesn’t say anything. She just looks at me, panting, while my dick is nestled against her sex, while her thighs house mine. Maybe this is too much for her. Maybe this is too fast.
“We don’t have to do anything, Daisy. We can take this slow if you want. I’d wait a million years for you.”
“Fuck slow. I’ve been waiting my whole damn life. I’m yours to do with as you wish, Teo. I’m here. Just make me feel good.”
I crash my lips to hers again, but this time, there’s no doubt or hesitation. I might have to fuck her right on this beach if that’s what it takes, but someone’s going to cum, and it’s not going to be me first. We kiss and lick again, and she opens her mouth wider as she grinds on my hardness.
“You’re so fucking hot, baby,” I pant against her lips, and she moans again.
“Call me baby again,” she pleads as she twirls her hips once more.
I pinch her nipple over her dress, and she repeats the movement, tighter this time as she drops her head back. That’s it. “Are you gonna keep grinding that tight little cunt right on me, baby?”
“Oh.” Her word comes out soft, and she does exactly that.
“May I?” I ask, bringing my fingers to the thin strap of her dress.
She looks around before she replies. “We’re alone, I promise,” I continue as she nods.
I lower her strap, pulling it down her arm and helping her out of it.
The top of her dress is tight around her breasts, so it requires more than just slipping it off her shoulder.
I don’t care—I’ll take whatever steps necessary to give her the pleasure she deserves.
I pull the fabric carefully, successfully lowering it enough for me to see her bare, full breasts, round and perfect in front of me.
“Sorry, they’re not cute and perky,” Daisy whispers.
“Don’t apologize for having these. They’re perfect. Look,” I say, bringing my hand to cup one.
“It fits perfectly in my hand.” Just like I dreamed it did. Fuck, but better.
I lower my mouth to the other one, bringing her peaked nipple to my mouth and sucking it gently in. She hisses.
“You fit perfectly in my mouth too,” I say with a mouthful of the most perfect tit a man has ever seen and tasted.
I lick and bite around her nipple while my hand pinches the other one, escalating this moment into more.
She arches her back against the trunk of the tree, pushing her breast further into my mouth.
Fuck, she likes it, almost as much as I do.
She’s driving me wild, with her hips bucking and her breast filling my mouth.
My hand is full of her, and still, I need more.
I explore. My hand curves down to her hip, and as if she can tell exactly what I’m thinking, she moves the fabric over her leg. Thank you to whoever designed this dress, because this slit is perfect for exactly what I want to do to her right now.
My fingers find the edge of her panties and follow the hem to the sensitive area I’ve been dying to touch. She parts her legs for me before tensing.
“It’s not you,” she whispers, and I stop. I find her looking at me with concern. “I…I’m not super wet, I know it, but it’s not you, it’s—”
“Your PCOS, I know,” I say. I stand straight, keeping my fingers under the hem of her underwear while my other hand comes up to hold her face.
“You know? How?”
“When you got diagnosed and you told me, I spent weeks reading about it. It was one of the things that lots of articles mentioned: low lubrication and difficulty reaching orgasms.”
“Why did you read about it?” Her face looks puzzled, as if it’s a big deal, like she can’t imagine someone who cares about her reading about a condition that affects her every day.
“Because it’s a part of you. Why else do you think every month I bring you ice packs, warm compresses, and massage your back with CBD oil? We also watch all those movies you like.”
“Mmm, because I’m usually on my period. I’ve always wondered how you know.”
“I track it so I can help you feel better.” It’s true. I’ve read so much about how symptoms can be stronger for women with PCOS, so I try my best to help when I can.
“What if my period isn’t regular, like most people with this?
” she asks, and I guess we’re having this whole ass conversation right now.
Out of all the times in the world, she chooses to have it now, when I just want to touch and kiss her and make her feel good. Peace of mind over anything, I guess.
“I would figure it out, Daze. I’ve made it my mission to learn everything about you, including your body.
” I kiss her collarbone and then her cheek.
“Getting to know what you like, what bothers you, what makes you feel good, what makes you feel better, has always been a priority of mine. If I had to delete my app and figure it out based on subtle cues, I would.” I kiss her again, letting the words rest in her mind.
Maybe she’ll finally see how gone for her I am.