“Open for me, sweet Daisy.” His voice was a low command, edged with reverence.
She hesitated, her breath hitching—but then, trusting him, she slowly parted her knees.
His breath left him in a rush.
“God help me,” he rasped, palms sliding reverently up the soft skin of her thighs.
“Plump and pink and perfect.” Alastair growled and fingered her opening, which was already wet, ready for him. His cock stiffened almost painfully, but he ignored it.
As much a man could, anyway.
Because this time, he was determined to make this perfect for her.
No rush, no stolen moments with the fear of discovery pressing down on them. No lingering innocence, no clumsy hands or whispered promises made in desperation.
This time, he would cherish her.
He would take his time, learn every reaction, every sigh, every delicious shiver. He would tease and taste and drive her to the edge—again and again—until she understood, truly understood, that she had never been forgotten.
He explored her everywhere, using his fingertips to explore the circumference of her wrists. The strength in her shoulders. The allure of her ankle. Her calves.
Her thighs.
He wanted to know her everywhere—more, even, than he needed to know the secrets in his own mind.
Nothing mattered but Daisy.
He palmed a breast with one hand, circling the intimate flesh between her legs with the other.
Tiny dust motes swirled and shimmered in the air, stirred by each soft, uneven breath she released. “Ala—Alastair.”
He crawled lower, kissing the indent of her belly and then tasting the skin around her hip bones. She cried out, and he dragged his whiskers from one side to the other.
Her hands clutched his head now, her fingers practically tearing out his hair.
“I don’t…” she gasped.
He paused, lifting his gaze to see her face—flushed, lips shining, her eyes sparkling beneath heavy lids. “You don’t…?”
“I don’t remember it being… like this.”
“Ah, Daisy.” Alastair felt the weight of guilt because he’d been such a?—
“It was perfect.” She cut off his thoughts. “But… so is this.”
And then she sent him a smile that cut to his very core. She shouldn’t trust him. She shouldn’t forgive him. He didn’t deserve her. And yet…
“Don’t stop.” She licked her lips, looking a little worried.
“Never.” He’d remove his heart and hand it over in that moment.
Humbled, Alastair lowered his chin again. Overwhelmed to be here, to be with her again, he kissed her opening and inhaled.
He could do this forever.
“I like…” She was thrusting herself against his mouth. “I like that.”
Alastair couldn’t quite stifle his chuckle, because his sweet Daisy was a cautious woman, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t adventurous.
