“Baby. Sweetness.”
I blink. “Hmm?”
Fingers skim over my forehead and smooth out the lines from my overthinking. “Stay with me.” He hunches over my body and presses his mouth on mine. His mouth is soft. His breath is warm. Bobby’s eyes shine with love for me. Me. “Live for me, Ever,” he murmurs on my mouth.
“Always, Bobby.”
A guttural sound slips from his mouth. His satisfaction rumbles over my chest. Bobby removes my tank top and stares at my white lace bra. I squirm beneath the intensity in his eyes. My bra comes off next. I keep my arms at my sides rather than go with the instinct to shield my small breasts from him.
Bobby grazes his palm over one nipple, then the other. The traitorous buds tighten into little balls of need. Bobby cups my breasts. “They’re perfect. Beautiful. You. Mine,” he growls.
Bobby takes a nipple in his mouth. His tongue tastes. I sigh with pent-up need. He grazes his teeth over the sensitive bud. His other hand plucks and tweaks the other wanton bud. I cry out with pleasure and pain. I clasp his head in my palms. I want to plaster his face on my chest. Help guide his mouth and tongue over my sensitive nipples.
“No touching, sweetness. I touch you. I pleasure you. Pleasuring and touching you gives me pleasure. Now, hands above your head.”
I don’t protest. I can’t protest. I’m left speechless. My heart is beating out of control. My mouth is dry from panting. I lick my lips. Bobby captures my mouth in his. His hands reach the waistband of my PJs.
With my hands above my head, I lift my hips. Bobby takes off the bottoms and tosses them to the corner of the room. Heady with lust, I follow its trajectory. The bottoms land on a plushie in the shape of a raccoon.
Bobby asked my father for permission to see me. He had to know how dangerous my father is. I mean, come on, I told Bobby when we first met that my father was in prison for murder. Yet, he went and asked for my father’s permission! Who does that? Clearly, it’s a man who is utterly and hopelessly in love.
My body slackens, my insides are mush, and my heart is melting. Bobby ditches his boxers. He is thick and long. My eyes widen.
“Do you like what you see?” There’s a wicked gleam in his eyes. Suddenly, we’re back at Crimson, when a stranger wrapped his arms around me from behind and changed the course of my life with that one line. Do you like what you see?
“I do.” Two words that continue to shake me to my core each time I say them. They speak of something more binding. I lick my lips and, feeling more empowered and in control of my life than I’d ever felt, I tell Bobby to lose the condom.
“Bareback?”
I nod. “Remember what you asked me when you took us to your truck rather than my car?”
“When I was your secret lover, your bad boy?”
“Yes.”
“I said, ‘Do you trust me?’”
“I do,” I say. “I trust that you’re clean. I don’t want any barriers between us, Bobby.”
“Baby. Sweetness.” His eyes soften.
“Please,” I beg. Will we fit? He’s reading my mind. Or my face says it all.
“Oh, we’ll fit, sweetness, my Ever After.”
I open my arms to him. I trust him. I submit to him. Submitting to his dominance isn’t a weakness. Trusting him is a strength.
He slides his hands under my arms and moves me until my head is back on the pillows. Bobby doesn’t give me a chance to breathe. In less than the time for my heart to beat two heartbeats, he grabs me under my thighs, presses my knees to my chest, and licks up my slit with the flat of his tongue before he slides his thickness and length inside me in one thrust.
I cry out. He captures my sound of desire, surprise, and pain with his mouth. He stretches and fills me full. It’s too much. He’s too much. I was wrong. His dominance is too much for me.
I try to push him off me. He doesn’t budge. Bobby’s too big, too muscular. Panic hits me square in the chest. My breaths come out in spurts. A commanding voice pulls me out of my panic.
“Arms above your head, Ever.” There’s tenderness in his command. I should listen, but my brain isn’t having it.
I’ve never been spoken to like this. I shouldn’t be okay with being bossed around, except that my body isn’t listening to my brain. It follows Bobby’s command. My arms go high above my head. Bobby leans his full weight onto me. I take his weight and his desire. My knees are to my chest.
He is a large, looming figure above me. He could crush me with his body. Rob me of breath until I stop breathing. But I’m not scared of him. I love him.
