“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous.” He was so turned on it was like being drunk. High.
“Thanks,” Cheryl giggled, shaking her ass so that it rolled. She looked like a stripper worth going broke for. He could smell her, warm and pink. A thousand times more dangerous than Midnight Black Musk oil. He balled his hands into fists. He needed to leave.
“I’m so wet,” she whispered.
All he could see was Cheryl. All he could think was how it would feel to slide his hands across her cheeks and pull that tiny scrap of material away. To push his tongue inside her. Sweet and tight and hotter than the centre of the earth.
“Patrick…? Can we…?”
“No.” The sound was hoarse, deep in his chest. “It’s not the right time.”
“Patrick…” Cheryl said. “You’re so sweet, but this is consent. This is me saying ‘yes.’ Please come here?”
“Not tonight,” some better man said. “Not while you’re drunk. You might regret it.”
“Never. We love each other, don’t we?”
There was the cavalry he needed. Those words didn’t mean what they were supposed to mean. He shoved his hands in his pockets, compressing his cock. “I know. That’s why—”
“You wanna see the rest?”
“KitKat…”
But Cheryl was already turning. Her red dress clung to her tits, her nipples hard beneath the silk. Patrick imagined kneeling over her to suck them, see how hot he could get her without touching anything else.
She slid a single strap off her shoulder. “Don’t you wanna see?”
“KitKat…”
“I want you to see.” The other strap fell. “I’ve wanted you to see since the night we met. When you were all cute and wasted and flirting with me.”
“I-I wasn’t wasted,” he babbled. “I was high. And I did want… I do want, but fuck—”
Cheryl pulled the remaining silk down and his knees turned to water. Her tits were… everything. Big and round, with the sweetest pink nipples in existence. Flawless. His eyes dried over, but he wouldn’t let himself blink. Couldn’t stop looking to save himself.
Cheryl slid the last of her dress down her calves and tossed it aside, then sat back, rocking so her tits bounced. “Do you like looking at me?”
Rolling surges were going through him like the first and only time he’d done MDMA, turning his thoughts electric.
“Yes,” he rasped. “Yes, I like looking at you.”
“Good.” She ran a hand over her right breast, tugging gently on her nipple. Her mouth parted in a little ‘oh’ and dimly he wondered if he was going to collapse. Cheryl’s gaze ran down his body to the front of his pants where his cock was threatening to bust through. “That,” she whispered. “I want that.”
He was drowning in her eyes, melting like chocolate. But she wasn’t looking at him—just his body. His dick. With a hollow throb, he realised she might not want to screw him, just to be screwed. But did that matter? She wanted a fuck, and he could be that guy. He could be any guy she needed.
Cheryl raised her hands to her tits, cupping them. “Please, Patrick?”
Time went slow, the fairy lights twinkling in unhurried throbs. He clenched his teeth, wanting and resisting with equal force. He’d been called a simp over Cheryl before, but if he fucked her because she was drunk and wanted dick—any dick—that was lower than he’d ever made himself for anyone. He could do it, bury his pride, torch his heart, and drill Cheryl like she was some football groupie, but she wasn’t. And he wasn’t just any dick. He was the dick that loved her, that wanted to take care of her for the rest of her life. Maybe she didn’t see it now, but she might.
“Pat-trick…”
He stared at her, glowing like an angel on her bed. This was it. The endpoint of four painful years. And he was going to turn her down. The woman of his dreams, naked and begging him to do her. Life was so fucking unfair.
He took a step back from the bed, trying not to look like he was a second away from climbing on and giving her everything she wanted. “Please don’t think I don’t want to. I want to be with you so bad it’s killing me, but it’s not just that you’re drunk, it’s…” He cleared his throat. “You should know…”
Her face fell. “You don’t think I’m pretty enough, do you?”
He gave a strained laugh. “No, I mean yes, I mean—”
