“You taste like heaven.” And honeysuckle, and sugar…
Alastair circled his tongue around her bud. He drew it into his mouth and then scraped the tender skin with his teeth.
He lapped his tongue along the seam of her sex. Not enough. Not nearly enough.
Greedy to know all of her, he dipped his head lower and delved inside.
Her body jerked, and he added a finger, listening so that he could learn her signals. Pants of pleasure. Signs of what she liked, what she needed, what she loved.
“Argh…” She wiggled her hips. “Oh. Yesssss.”
With the scent of her essence filling his nostrils, on his lips, his tongue, he struggled not to get ahead of himself.
Heaven. Daisy.A stream of foolishly romantic words hammered him.
His.
Not just a dream…
He felt her hands tugging his hair, and then her entire body tensed as she reached for a feeling… the sensation…
Alastair savored her satisfaction when her legs tensed on his shoulders, when her fingernails dug into his scalp as she clutched the sides of his head.
And then… A violent shudder ran from her core to her limbs. Completion rolled through her, again, and again, and yet again…
Alastair stayed right where he was, still, patient, with feelings—so tender, so protective, that they nearly broke him.
She trembled beneath him, her breath hitching, and then—a few short, breathless sobs escaped, raw and unguarded. The sound sliced through Alastair, lodging in his chest like a blade. His own breath hitched, his body suddenly too tight, too wound.
He’d wanted her, he knew he had feelings for her, but this had unraveled into something far deeper—something almost too vast to name. It wasn’t just desire; it was need. It was connection.
It terrified him.
He forced himself to hold steady, to give her space to catchher breath. Only when he felt her body soften beneath him did he push himself up, crawling up the bed to take her in his arms.
He brushed his lips over hers, featherlight. And when he reached up to smooth a few damp curls of hair from her face, his hand trembled.
“Are you all right?” His voice was rough, low.
She let out a slow exhale and opened her eyes, locking onto his with such intensity that his stomach clenched.
“Very much so,” she whispered. Then, with quiet, aching certainty, she touched his face, her fingers tracing the sharp edge of his jaw. “But Alastair, I want all of you.”
COMPLETION
The instant Daisy spoke the words out loud, sending them up to the stars, she couldn’t summon them back. Her meaning went beyond that room, beyond that moment.
She wanted whatever he was willing to give. Did that make her weak? Did that make her immoral?
And having just experienced a banquet of pleasure, did it make her greedy?
If the answer was yes, she didn’t care.
Her body still trembled in the aftermath, warmth spreading through her body like golden honey. She should feel spent, sated—but instead, a new kind of hunger had awakened inside her. One that had nothing to do with desire and everything to do with him. His touch, his weight, his whispered words against her skin.
She had spent a decade pretending she didn’t need this—didn’t need him. And yet, here she was, reaching for more.
And she did not make this decision lightly. It was practical, logical, and rational, because she refused to live the rest of her life with regret.
