He kisses my forehead, my cheeks, my nose, my lips.
"My sweet girl," he murmurs against my mouth, still breathing heavily. "What did I ever do to deserve you?”
I smile. I've never felt more cherished in my entire life.
Before I can catch my breath, he's shifting us, laying me back on the couch. He settles between my thighs, looking down at me with more of that primal hunger.
"Now it's my turn to taste this unbelievable body."
But instead of diving into my pussy like I expect, he lifts my leg, the one with the bad knee, cradling my calf in his large hands.
He starts with soft kisses pressed to each toe, his eyes never leaving my face. It's so unexpectedly tender that my heart throbs.
"I’m going to worship every single inch of you," he murmurs against my skin.
His mouth trails down to my ankle, and when his tongue traces over my tattoo—the tiny soccer ball with wings—I shiver.
"Cute," he says, his lips brushing the ink. "Any more tattoos?”
I shake my head.
He presses another kiss to the tattoo. "Daddy’s going to take his time."
He works his way up my calf, alternating between kisses and soft scrapes of teeth that make my muscles twitch. When he reaches my knee, he pauses.
His thumbs stroke gently over the scarred skin, the place where surgeons put me back together. Then he lowers his head and presses his lips there.
"This knee carried you through everything," he says softly. "Through injury and recovery and starting over. It deserves to be taken care of."
My eyes sting. No one has ever talked about my injury like that. Like it's a battle scar to be honored.
“You all right, baby?” he asks, noticing my eyes.
"Wonderful, Daddy," I whisper.
"Good." He smiles against my skin and continues his journey upward.
His mouth travels up my inner thigh now, and his kisses become hotter, more deliberate. His stubble scrapes against me and I squirm beneath him.
"So soft here," he murmurs, nipping at the tender flesh. "I bet I could make you come just from kissing the tender hollows of these delectable thighs."
"Please—" I don't even know what I'm asking for.
He gets achingly close to my pussy, and I can feel his hot breath as I clench, desperate for his touch.
And then he movesup.
"Ike!" I protest as his mouth skips right over my aching center.
He chuckles, the sound dark and satisfied. "Patience, little girl. We'll get there."
He crawls up my body and captures my mouth in a deep kiss that has me melting into him…his tongue stroking against mine, tasting and claiming. I moan into him, my fingers sliding in his silver hair.
When he pulls back, his eyes are nearly black with want.
"Since the moment you walked across that soccer field, I've thought about having you like this…" he says, voice husky. "Spread out beneath me. All mine to touch and taste and tease."
His mouth drops to my neck, sucking and biting. "In my fantasies, I bent you over the bleachers."
