Page 25

The kiss started slow, almost sweet. Explorative as the heat of his body hovering over mine radiated against my bare skin. I shivered, and a breathy, jagged exhale escaped from me. Wetness pooled between my legs. Almost as if sensing my need, or maybe seeing it painted all over my face, his hips rolled perfectly against where I needed him the most, and I gasped.

“Roxie, baby," he groaned, and I nodded.

“Please,” I whispered.

A couple of days ago, when he’d sat me on his lap, I’d felt him. The layers between us had been bulkier than the ones separating us now. But even through the thickness of our denim jeans, I’d felt him. Thick and long and impossibly hard bulging against me.

But now? With only two very thin layers of cotton as a barrier, the size and thickness of him were obvious. And holy shit, he was big. I was pretty sure bigger than anything I’d had before.

The kiss turned wetter.

Deeper.

His tongue plunged into my mouth the way I wanted him to do with my body with desperation I felt all the way to my toes.

“Daddy,” I moaned. He swallowed hard, pulling back for a moment. His dark eyes bore into me right through to my soul.

Mine, a little voice inside of me whispered with confidence I had never felt before. Mine.

Catching my breath, I licked my lips and liked that they tasted like him. His taste, salty sweetness from the buried treasure and Dave, Daddy was quickly rising the charts as one of my favorite flavors of all time. I watched as his eyes darkened into an almost molten obsidian. Dave’s prominent Adam’s apple rose and fell, and all I could think about was what he would taste like.

The need to know bombarded me, and, without a second thought, like he was mine and I was his, and as if this wasn’t the first time we’d done this, I lifted myself up by my elbows. His body shook as he held it still above mine. Pressing my small chest against his broad one had me biting away a guttural moan. Good god, he feels good. I was in serious trouble if he was making me lose control with our clothes on.

What would it be like when we were flesh to flesh? Explosive. I breathed in his scent the moment my face was in his neck.

“Rox.” My name sounded like a plea and the sweetest prayer.

“You smell so good. You always smell good.”

“Not always.” His voice cracked. “Not after practice or a workout.” I’d been around him after those moments, so I couldn’t help but argue how wrong he was.

“You do,” I confirmed and swiped my tongue up his neck and nibbled on the bottom of his earlobe. “You taste good, too, Daddy.”

“Fuck, baby,” he cursed. The deep, rumbly sound blossomed on my tongue. “Such a sweet brat,” he groaned. I giggled. I liked that he called me that.

“Your brat.” I grinned and watched, fully captivated as the playfulness in his gaze faded.

Turned dark.

Primal.

Something almost savage that should have scared me. And maybe if I were half normal, it would have. Instead, seeing all that emotion, all that need reflected toward me, excited me.

“Say that again,” he dared, and I swallowed.

“I’m your brat, Daddy.” My voice sounded scratchy in my ears, but my tone didn’t waver.

“Fuck,” he cursed. I noticed the way his breathing changed. Turned sharper. Shallower. “You have any idea how much I like the sound of that?”

“Dave—“

“Uh-uh.” He jerked his head before one of his hands slid into my hair, tugging at the roots. Not painfully but in a dominating way, reminding me of who was in control. “You gave me that, you’re not allowed to take it back.”

“Daddy,” I rasped, whiney and needy. His grin turned wicked.

I lost sight of him as his face fell forward, dipping into the crook of my neck, and he breathed in so deep I imagined it was how an animal must scent its mate. Mate? That sounded barbaric, but somehow, it wasn’t far off from what this was. Dave’s sharp exhale had goose bumps flaring to life from head to toe.

“Please,” I whimpered as I trembled beneath him.