His minty breath fans the back of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. A gentle snore vibrates his lips and rattles hischest. It always amazes me how he can fall asleep so quickly. My dad is the same. After a day on the building site, he would often fall asleep in the chair after dinner.
I stare at the logs on the fire, glowing red and orange. The ornate black guard surrounding the hearth casts a shadow around the room. Patterns dance on the wall, mimicking how my heart flutters.
Lifting my pyjama top, I place my hand over Sawyer’s and hold his palm against the skin on my stomach. My breathing speeds up as my mind races. I shouldn’t be doing this to him while he sleeps. I violated Mr. Snuggles and now I’m taking advantage of Sawyer.
Even though I know this is so wrong, I still slide his hand up my pyjama top until his thumb grazes my underboob. My breath halts. Blood rushes to my centre. I’m still on edge from the other night when I was caught with Mr. Snuggles.
Maybe now Sawyer’s asleep, I can slip upstairs and finish the job, but I don’t want to move. Instead, I slide Sawyer’s hand over my breast. Tingles flutter over my skin where his calloused fingers graze my nipple.
The pulse in my neck throbs. My centre weeps, as if crying out for attention. My body thrums and vibrates with all the heat of an inferno, like I’m about to combust.
His thumb twitches, then moves of its own accord, grazing my pebbled nipple again.
I hold my breath. My hand freezes over his. Squeezing my eyes shut, I pretend I’m asleep, hoping he’s dreaming as he moves his thumb back and forth.
Then his large palm covers my full breast and squeezes gently.
I let out the breath I was holding, along with a hum of pleasure.
He pauses.
I coax his hand gently, squeezing over his, encouraging him to massage my breast again.
But he whips his hand away as if he’s just burned himself on a hot stove. “Angel, what are you doing?”
I curl up into a ball, not ready to face him, but it’s no use with him. There’s no hiding or shying away.
He rolls me onto my back and hovers above me, the rough pads of his fingers sweeping the hair from my face. “I’m sorry. I never meant to touch you like that. I was asleep and then?—”
I press my finger to his lips to silence him. “Touch me again,” I beg, my body desperate for more of him. “Please, Sawyer.”
“Angel, I—” He gulps, causing the apple in his throat to bob as he gazes into my eyes. “I can’t cross that line with you. I’m so fucking sorry I touched you like that.”
My entire body deflates as if the balloon of hope that’s been growing for the last few days has been popped. “You did nothing wrong. It was me. I moved your hand to my breast. I’m sorry. I just wanted to feel your hands on me.”
His eyes widen as he gazes down at me. “But your father…he would?—”
I silence his lips again with my finger. “He would never need to know.”
His dark eyes turn to molten and he hovers above me, inches from my lips. “Angel,” he whispers, before his lips crash to mine and it’s everything I’ve craved.
I open my mouth, letting in his warm tongue as it tentatively strokes its way between my parted lips. My entire body tingles with pleasure when his hand makes contact with my stomach and slips under my pyjama shirt.
He deepens the kiss as if he can’t get enough of me and I arch my back, offering myself up for him to take whatever he wants. If tonight is all we have, then I want this to be memorable.My father may never know, but I’ll have these memories for a lifetime. Only, I’m not sure once with this man will be enough.
11
SAWYER
Ishouldn’t be touching her like this, but I can’t seem to stop myself. My hand fondles her breasts underneath her pyjama top, her nipple catching under my palm, sending electricity shooting up my limb and straight to my dick. With one hand, I roll her tits together, squeezing them both in my large palm.
I never knew a pair of tits could feel so good. But these aren’t just any tits, they’re hers. The one woman I crave and the only woman I can’t have. I break the kiss, coming up for air, and gaze down at the one thing I covet most in this world.
With gritted teeth, I silently tell my conscience to fuck off for once and let me just enjoy the moment. One more kiss, I tell myself as I dive back down to lick against her tongue, smooth and warm like my favourite Scotch. Only this girl isn’t aged. She’s fresh from the distillery.
Fuck. She’s too sweet for me, but I don’t stop licking her mouth, like a bear drawn to her honey. I can only imagine how her pussy tastes. As if something primal takes over, my body moves of its own accord.
I’m not sure I could stop it if I wanted to as my pelvis grinds against her hips, fucking the soft flesh there with only the fabricof our clothes between us. I need to be inside her sweet little cunt, but first I need to taste her, lick her creamy pussy and bury myself down there in her pot of honey.
