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"And what are the right ideas?" she asks in a whisper, as my hand runs over the silky nightie, the hem so damn close to my fingertips. What I would give to slip my hand under it, to feel the soft fabric of her panties. To push them aside and feel just how tight this sweet thing is.
"I told you I'd take care of you tonight," I say, taking in her cute upturned nose and the tortoiseshell glasses that make her blue eyes pop.
She twists her lips playfully. "You said you'd protect me, not take care of me."
"I'll do whatever you need," I growl in her ear, loving the way she shivers as I do. It’s almost as if she's never been held like this.
And looking down at her, I think maybe she hasn't.
"Are you scared?" I ask.
"Of you?"
"Of me. Of this moment."
She shakes her head, so slightly it's almost like it didn't happen at all. "I've never..."
"Never what?" I ask huskily, my cock throbbing as my hand runs over her back, loving the way her hips curve, needing something to hold on to right now.
My life is a fucking storm, a raging current I can't control. I enlisted because life back home was a shit show, I needed steady, I needed concrete. I needed out.
And now, holding her, I just need in.
"I've never been with a man," she tells me, the pure, virginal words on her lips so fucking tender it could break my hard heart.
I groan at the confession, though there's no way I am gonna take her now; not like this. Not when she's so innocent; when she's so vulnerable. A gun was just fired in her house, and she practically fainted in my arms.
I may love pussy, but I'm not the sort of man who can sleep at night when he takes what isn't his.
She must sense that I’m pulling away.
"Don't go," she pleads. "Please. I want... I want you to take care of me."
Clenching my jaw, I run a hand over her cheek. "I want to take care of you, too." I tilt her chin up, and our eyes meet.
She smiles and then she lifts herself on her tiptoes, her lips aching to be kissed.
I don't hesitate. The moment I saw her I knew she was mine.SweetieHis mouth is hot and needy as his tongue explores mine, his hands cupping my cheeks as if he's claiming this moment as ours.
It is.
"God, your lips are sweet," he groans against me and I whimper, loving the way he feels against me.
Hard.
Thick.
"More," I ask, revealing my desire to this stranger who seems to see me. This is the moment I have been waiting so long for. A man to take me.
"Be patient, little one," he tells me, his hand moving under the hem of my nightie. "I promised to take care of you, and I will."
I nod obediently, loving the way he touches me. It's both gentle and demanding.
"Now, is this your bed?" he asks, pointing to the narrow twin against the wall, the thick comforter on top of it and the dozen or so pillows gracing it giving me a nice cozy spot to read my deliciously dirty books.
"Yes."
He frowns. "You need a bigger bed if you want me to fit in there with you."
I give him a coy smile. "I was hoping you would fit somewhere else."
He growls again, this time with more urgency and he lifts me from the ground, carrying me to the bed. "Your brothers are right. You do need to be kept under lock and key. The things some men might do to you..." He shakes his head, looking down at me.
"What could they do to me?" I ask, fully aware of how nearly naked I am under this man's gaze. I love it, feeling so vulnerable with a man so capable of taking control of me. His biceps are defined, his forearms ripped, his shoulders broad.
He leans over me, taking my hands in his and pinning them above my head. "They could push up that nightie of yours, part your knees. They could rip off your little panties and take a good look at your sweet, tight cunt." His grip on my wrists is hard and a surge of pleasure washes over me. His filthy mouth gives me a cocky grin, and I know he is trying to shock me.
"Then what?" I ask. "What would they do to my cunt?"
He lifts an eyebrow and releases my wrists. "A sweet thing like you shouldn't say words like cunt."
"Why not?" I ask, licking my lips. I ease up on the bed so my head rests against the pillows. Then I drop to my knees like a good girl. "I'm sorry," I say in a sugary voice. "I don't have on any panties."
He kneels before me, pulling my thighs to the edge of the bed, making me release a gasp of surprise at the fluid movement. "Look at you, sweetheart. Didn't your Mama teach you that nice girls wear panties?"
