“Then maybe I’m Daddy from now on.”
She slow blinks. A blush dances along her cheekbones.
“Darla!” Leonardo whines impatiently. “Who are you with out there?”
“Me, Leonardo,” I roar, stomping toward where he stands on the shore, hands on hips. I’m still holding Darla in my arms, because that is where she belongs, but I do splay my hand and hold it over her butt. That’s a view only I have the privilege of seeing. “Do you have something to say, puny boy?”
“Puny—” His mouth snaps closed when I get closer to the shore, illuminated by the moon above. First, he stammers out a curse over my height. Then his eyes track lower to my cock where it drips with ocean water beneath Darla’s tight ass, his eyes nearly bug out of his head. “Holy shit.”
“Go back to the luau, Leonardo. Keep your mouth shut. And leave a man to do his work.”
He doesn’t just go. He runs, tripping once on a piece of driftwood, before getting up again and sprinting for the distant bonfire.
“I do not think you’ll have to worry about him again, little human.” I nip at her bottom lip, catching and tugging, memorizing the way she sucks in a breath. “Only me.”
She giggles, and it’s a sound that makes my balls squeeze like they’re locked in a giant fist. “Maybe. Maybe not. But you definitely just bought me a free night, at the very least.” She ducks her head to hide her blush. “If we can figure out a way to make it to my room without anyone noticing that you’re naked, maybe we could watch a movie?”
“Mate,” I growl into her neck, stooping forward and bouncing her against my lap. “I mustfuck you, Darla. I am inagony.”
“I don’t know if I’m ready. Can we cuddle and kiss? And see how things go?”
I’m very surprised how much making demands on her causes me shame. Could I rip off her bathing suit, pin her down on the beach and ram my lust up between her perfect legs? Easily. I would barely have to use an ounce of my strength. It would rid me of this aching stiffness, for at least a time.
But I want her happy so much, I’m willing to consider this pain.
No, when I grunt an affirmative, that we can kiss and cuddle, she smiles at me with dimples, and I know I’d live with the pain for centuries.
Anything for my Darla.
But I will soon find out that I’ve overestimated my abilities to resist her.
Three
Darla
What made me think peopleweren’tgoing to stare at Moby?
As we sneak through one of the side entrances of the resort, one guest drops all her belongings and three maids run for their lives. Of course they do. He’s a seven-foot god holding a balled-up sweatshirt over his junk. On top of that, he is gorgeous.
Not in a classically handsome kind of way.
In an ancient, murderous barbarian kind of way.
And he will not take his soulful gray eyes off me. He follows, towering behind me, his chest flexed like he might have to fight an army for my attention. Uh, no. Unlikely. Because for the first time in my life, there are butterflies in my stomach when I look at a member of the opposite sex. There are so many decisions I am making tonight that would be deemed unsafe by, well,anyone. But I have this strange sense of safety when I am near Moby. No matter how we met. Or how clear he’s made it that he wants to have sex with me.
Somehow, I feel as though I’m pulling the strings.
People have been making life choices on my behalf for so long, but now there is a seven-foot dreamboat wrapped around my finger.
No wonder I can’t stop smiling.
“This is my room,” I say breathily, tapping my key card against the reader and pushing open the door after the green light blinks. “You might want to duck coming through the door,” I suggest, backing into the room and watching him enter. Good lord, he looks like a confused being from another universe, running his fingers over the surface of paintings and squinting up at the recessed lighting. “Are you hungry?”
He thinks for a moment. “Yes, I think I am.”
I laugh, because obviously he’s joking. Who wouldn’t know if they’re hungry? But it’s just one of many unusual phrases he’s spoke throughout the night. For instance, he calls sex…mating. He calls me “little human.” He claims he doesn’t know his age. But part of me wonders if he’s just a lot older than my eighteen. In his early thirties, at the very least. Maybe he doesn’t want to scare me off?
I’m not sure he could at this point.
