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He lifted his body off mine, tucking himself on the edge of the couch while his hand slid down the side of my face, neck, and chest. His soft touch didn’t stop until he reached the hem of the skirt.
“Have I ever told you I love how you dress?”
“No.” I shook my head, afraid to blink and miss a moment.
“I do. You’re always in these sexy-as-hell dresses. I love them as much as I hate them,” he muttered, kissing the top of my thighs as he slowly lifted the skirt, stopping just before he exposed my panties. I must have looked confused when his eyes connected with mine because he went on to explain. ”Love them because you look fucking gorgeous, though I got a feeling you’d look incredible in a potato sack.”
“There’s that smooth mouth,” I sassed, and his deep chuckles vibrated against my thighs.
“Hmm… hated them because I had to try and keep my hands to myself when all I wanted to do was lift the pretty material of each dress you wore and explore what you hid beneath. It killed me almost as much as it killed me knowing other men in town were thinking the same thing.”
“I doubt?—"
“You might, but trust me, darlin’, every single man, and probably some women, had the same thought. And I’d fucked it up by putting my boots in my mouth when we met, trying to resist the way I felt about you.”
“Clay,” I gasped when his lips touched the hem of my dress and thighs. “Please,” I strained, trying not to move and give him the submission he’d asked for.
“Good girl. I know you wanna move around and touch me, but right now, you’re going to let me touch you, aren’t you?”
“Big guy.”
“I don’t know what I like more. Daddy, cowboy, or big guy,” he noted with a gentle smile.
“Cocky,” I huffed, and he winked at me adorably.
“Let’s see if by the time I’m done making my princess feel good, we find out which one of those nicknames works out best.” Before I could string two words together, his calloused hand moved underneath the skirt of my dress and found my ruined panties. “Half of me hoped you were bare underneath, and theother half would have smacked your perfect ass two shades of red if it had been.” His thick finger hooked around the soaked gusset and pulled it to the side.
One moment, I was staring into the endless pools of blue, and the other, everything went black as I shut my eyes. A choked, broken sound filled the air, and I realized it was me. His mouth was on me, licking my pussy like it was his favorite flavor of ice cream, and I was more than melting beneath him. I forced myself to open my eyes as my hands clenched into tight fists above my hands.
“Clay! Oh god, daddy.”
“Fuck, yes, baby girl,” he growled just when one of those beautiful fingers came into play. I was tight but so wet he found no resistance. “Shit,” he cursed against my clit. His voice vibrated against my sensitive bundle of nerves. “You taste so damn good. Better than I imagined, and I have one hell of an imagination, princess.”
“Clay!” I moaned as my feet flattened against the couch and my hips moved up toward his mouth. His finger dipped deeper as the pulled in and out of my pussy.
“Good fucking girl,” he groaned. My toes curled as he awoke every possible nerve ending. The tightness in my belly furled, coiling tightly. I felt like a live wire about to spring to life.
“Clay! Oh god, cowboy! Shit, honey.”
“Love it all. Love everything about you,” he muttered in the heat of the moment, but I let the words make me even warmer and fuzzier.
I was so close to shattering when he pulled back, I whined. “Greedy girl.” He smirked, his face shiny with my wetness. “Not yet. Finally got to taste you. I’m going to draw it out,” he promised darkly. My sex pulsed.
“Clay, please!”
“What do you call me, baby girl?” He kissed my knee.
“Daddy, please.”
“Please, what?”
“Daddy, make me feel good. Please, I need it.” I would say anything he wanted. The ache and need inside me were too much. Too big.
“Anything for you, princess.” Just like that, the man went back to doing what he’d been doing, but this time as he pushed me closer and closer to the edge of bliss, he didn’t stop.
No. Not even close.
He kept taking my body. One he had just had for the first time yet played like a concert violinist, higher and higher. So high, I had no idea if I could survive the fall. But soon, I would find out that with Clay West, I would never have to worry. He would prove to me I could trust that he’d never let me fall.
