Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
The words press against my heart, accurate enough to steal my breath. "Is it? Okay to let go?"
He leans closer, close enough that I can feel his breath against my lips. "I'll always be there to catch you, little girl. I promise."
Before I can second-guess myself, I follow my gut.
I grab the sides of his face, close the bit of distance between us and kiss him so hard, his teeth bite into my lower lip. It's clumsy and inexperienced, but he takes control immediately, one hand fisting in my hair while the other pulls me closer.
When we break apart, I'm breathing hard and probably looking at him like he's just solved every problem I've ever had.
"Can I..." I start, then stop, my cheeks burning. The fire in my belly burns for more of whatever this is.
"Can you what?"
"Can I touch you?" The words come out in a rush. "I've never... I mean, I don't know what I'm doing, but I want to learn. I want to see you."
Something dark and hungry flashes across his face. The shimmer of those silver hairs at his temples reminds me of the many differences between us but something in me wants this nurturing, older man to teach me all the things I’ve missed. "You want to see me?"
I nod, not trusting my voice.
"Then see me." He sits back and starts unbuttoning his flannel shirt with deliberate slowness. "But you follow my instructions. You do exactly what I tell you to do. Daddy’s in charge always."
"Okay, Daddy," I say, the word unfamiliar on my tongue. Unfamiliar but perfect. It sends a shiver through me, just like it did when he used it before, except now it’s my choice.
“That’s my girl.” He nods and pride fills my chest.
He shrugs out of the shirt, and I have to bite my lip to keep from making an embarrassing sound. I've seen him shirtless this morning, but somehow in the intimate glow of the firelight, he looks even more impressive. Broad shoulders, defined chest, abs that belong in magazines I'm not supposed to read.
"Take your boots off and follow me," he says, rising and crossing to the bed, sliding upward against the pillows, legs wide, muscles flexing under tan skin. He nods, then pats the space directly in front of him.
I fumble with my laces, slipping the clunky boots off my feet and stand, legs feeling like a newborn foal shuffling over the wood floor, tentatively perching on the bed next to him.
“I said, come here,” he growls, pointing between his legs.
I climb over his legs, scooting closer, until I’m kneeling between his knees.
"Put your hands on my chest."
I place my palms flat against his skin, marveling at how warm he is, how solid. "You're so...big."
"And you're so small." His hands cover mine, guiding them slowly across his chest. "Feel that? That's what a man feels like, Marley. That's what you do to me."
Under my palm, his heart is beating fast and hard. The knowledge that I'm affecting him the same way he's affecting me sends a thrill through me that's equal parts terrifying and exhilarating.
"Lower," he says quietly.
He guides my hands down over his ribs, trailing my fingers in the indents of muscles that almost look like feathers, then across his stomach, letting me explore the terrain of his body while he watches my face with an intensity that makes me feel like I'm the most fascinating thing he's ever seen.
"How does it feel?" he asks.
"Amazing. Overwhelming." I look up at him, trying to find words for sensations I've never experienced before. "I didn't know touching someone could feel like this."
"Like what?"
"Like I'm learning a new language. Like every nerve ending in my body is suddenly awake. I’ve always winced at being touched and would never have wanted to touch someone else. But, with you, it’s like breathing. Natural, necessary."
"Good." His hands move to my waist, thumbs tracing small circles through my shirt. "Now I want you to touch me somewhere else."
Heat pools between my legs, unsure but at the same time, hopeful about where this is going. "Where?"
Instead of answering, he takes one of my hands and guides it down to rest over the hard bulge under his jeans. Even through the denim, it’s intimate and impressive.
"Holy cow," I breathe.
"You did this to me," he says, his voice rough. "Just by being here, by trusting me, by letting me take care of you."
I press my palm more firmly against him, fascinated by the way his breathing changes, the way his hips move almost involuntarily into my touch.
“I thought men needed lingerie and make up and all the...” I make this weird sort of jazz hands gesture. “You know, sexy stuff.”
He mimics my twisting hand gesture then grabs my wrists, his rough grip stealing my breath.
“With you, baby, it’s all sexy. I’ve not touched a woman in ten years. Didn’t know my secret kink was little girls with big brains.”