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I think of the blood. Pools and pools of it, turning the water red all around us. “I felt no pain—later they told me I was in shock. The bite was almost harmless, in the end, only requiring plastic surgery to put me back together. There was no internal damage.”
“How did you get away?”
There’s a sick, quiet beat of silence in the air. I make my confession. “My father saved me.” My words die. A heavy silence falling over us. My father may have saved me that day, but he lost his life in the process. The scar is a memory of the day I lost my dad, and it pains me to think of it.
And somehow, he knows. Gabriel pieces the rest of the story together himself. “I see.”
This man that hardly knows me, knows not to ask any more questions. Just to hold me tight. To curve his body over mine, until he’s a protective shell, kissing me. I close my eyes, wanting to feel the full depth of the kiss.
Maybe that’s why providing Lexi with the perfect wedding is so damn important to me, I have to stand in where he should have been. Somehow compensate for the fact that I’m here, and he’s not.
Gabriel keeps kissing me and, in his embrace, I find healing.
I think of the events after that day, and for once, it's not in pain, only in a reflection. I moved to Nevada, wanting to never be surrounded by water again. I was penniless, scared, and alone. But I owed it to my dad to do something with my life. I enrolled in college, and with the help of a friend, I started Sugar Daddies as a way to pay for my classes.
I hid my scar, traumatized by the pain it caused me. Hell, my attempts to hide that silver crescent moon may even be the reason I didn’t have sex yet. That, coupled with the fact that I hadn’t yet met him.
Gabriel Lord. The man who’s too good to be true, yet he’s becoming as real to me as my own flesh and blood.
The kiss grows more urgent. Our mouths communicate what our bodies desire. I need to feel him inside me. I need the comfort of the closeness only he can offer me right now. I slip my legs apart and while our mouths are still joined, he enters me.
It’s painful at first; I’m sore from the night before. It only takes my hand on his shoulder for him to read me. He slows down, easing into me. Sweetly and softly, then with a building energy that has all the pain in my past washing away from me like water rushing from the shore at high tide.
He grabs my hips, twisting me over on top of him as he lies on his back. He’s even deeper inside me this way and I let out a whimper of delight.
His smile is intoxicating. “Dance for me, baby.”
And somehow, intuitively, I know exactly what to do. Not from research, or hearing the girls talk shop, or from the romance novels my sister emails to my kindle.
It’s intuitive.
He tells me to dance, and I do. Slowly, I roll my hips. Moving forward further into him, then pulling back. He grabs my hips, holding me, but not guiding me. He lets me set my own rhythm. I press my hands into his chest. Lift my ass, rising up on his cock until his eyes shut and he moans, then I slide back down. Hit him with another roll of my hips.
“My God, girl. Where’d you learn to ride like that?”
“I just know.”
I lean back, my breasts pressing forward with their peaked nipples. He takes the opportunity to caress them, taking each bud between his finger and pinching, teasing. The trembling sensation travels deep into my core and it makes me move faster, harder. The sound of our bodies connecting, hot, slick, and eager, fills the room.
The warm rush of tightness comes once more, like the night before and I grab the headboard, exhaling with a rush. He knows I’m close and showing no mercy he raises his hips hard, then lowers them fast, pounding in and out of me while I buck against him.
“Fuck me, daddy, I’m going to come!”
“Come, babygirl. Come for your daddy.”
His words are my undoing. I let out an animal-like cry, riding out the wave of pleasure, my entire body racked with shudders.
Afterward, I lay next to him, he on his back, me curled into his side. His fingertips stroke the back of my arm. I trace lazy circles on his chest with my fingers. He lets out a contented sigh.
I could do this all day.
With this little magic trick in their back pocket, how do people ever get anything done?
I raise my mouth to kiss him again. I’m stopped by the sound of a hard thump coming from the kitchen. “Oh, shit! Mom!” The one thing I’ve come to help with and here I’m lying around. I fly from the bed, tossing on a robe from my suitcase.
