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I run my hand up and down my shaft, wanting it to grow, wanting to tempt her even more. Even though the mere idea that this nearly drowned woman is half naked in my bed, and a virgin no less, is gonna make me come so fucking fast.
“That’s good,” I tell her. “It’s a good thing you’re a virgin, and it’s a good thing I was the one who saved your life. It would be a fucking tragedy if you’d been saved by some asshole who thinks he knows what it means to be a man.”
“And you know. You know what it means.”
She’s not asking a question.
She’s making a statement.
“Damn straight,” I tell her, pulling her close, close enough so my cock touches her bare belly, close enough so her eyes are forced to meet mine when she decides what she wants to have happen next.
“I want you,” she says, her voice small. “I want you to make a woman out of me.”
I growl, realizing my fantasy is coming fucking true. An innocent woman needing me.
I’ll make her need me all right.
I’ll make her moan for me, come for me.
I’ll make her cunt beg for more.
“I’m twenty-one. I can make my own decisions.” Her words are strong, I can tell from her inflection that she doubts her ability to make her own choices.
But I don’t doubt her at all. A woman like this, she knows what she wants. She’s just never had the opportunity to take it.
Because she’s never met me.
“I’m thirty,” I say stepping toward her. “And this is the best decision I’ve made in a long time.”
She smiles... and it’s a smile washed in relief. Her shoulders drop and she lets out a sigh as if she’s been waiting her whole life for someone to take her seriously. To validate her.
Well, I’ll validate her all right. I’ll validate her brains out. Hell, I’ll validate her pussy all day long.
Because something as pure and untouched as her can only be right.
I reach my hands around her back and unclasp her bra, dropping it on the floor. Her breasts are perfect, small just like she is. She has the kind of tits you can put in your mouth and suck on. The kind of tits that are begging to be coated in come. The kind of tits that were made to be held.
I run my thumbs over her nipples. They are hard from the icy water.
And they are hard in anticipation of what’s to take place next.
She closes her eyes, whimpering as my thumbs roll over her tits.
She doesn’t reach for me, she is hesitant and I can tell she’s going to need a lot of guidance when it comes to that part.
Thankfully, we have plenty of time. I’m sure as fuck not going anywhere.
I pull her mouth to mine, holding the base of her neck, and kiss her like the dream she is.
She moans into my mouth as if the kiss both shocks and surprises her. Her hands press against my bare chest, leaning into me with excitement. Her lips are so fucking tender that I kiss them hard, wanting them swollen and devoured.
Our mouths open, my tongue slides against hers, and she sighs, her body language telling me that my girl has never been properly kissed.
Hell, with her greedy mouth, pressing deeper against mine, I can’t help but think she’s never been kissed at all.
I kiss her until she is out of breath, then I whisper in her ear, “I’m gonna need to see your pussy soon.”
Her eyes open, full of wonder.
“Okay,” she says slowly. “I want you to take anything you like.”
I groan in pleasure over her decadent offering. Damn, it’s like I’ve died and gone to heaven.
Like the angel she is, she stands up, on my bed. Even though we’re below deck, her head doesn’t touch the ceiling because she is so petite.
I’m a big man, tall and broad, and I can hardly fit down here.
She stands and rests her arms on my shoulders for balance; I use the opportunity to take a good long look at her.
With one hand she pulls down her panties and they fall to her ankles. She steps back and we both look down.
Her cunt is fucking beautiful. But I need to spread her pussy, I want to see how tight she is, I want to look at her with her knees dropped, imagining myself buried deep inside of her.
“Do I look okay?” she asks shyly.
I exhale. Does she look okay? “Alice, you have no idea how perfect you are.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not perfect.” It’s as if self-doubt has plagued her entire life. “My family expects me to be, but I know I’m not. There’s a lot of things that aren’t perfect about me.”
“I don’t believe you,” I tell her.
