Page 92 of Rock Me

"So, you did want to fuck me," she says after a little while, and there's a cheeky grin on her face.

"Yup, pretty sure we've cleared that up, you little minx," I say, sliding off her so I can pull her against me.

She settles against my chest, and I brush the hair from her face, trying to ignore the fresh scar on her scalp.

"Did you really think I wasn't attracted to you?"

"I didn't know. You never... I mean, so we kissed a few times and you seemed to want more than just talking. But you never made a big move." And I almost burst out laughing because if only she’d known the thoughts I was having about her in my head, she would probably have run off in the opposite direction screaming at the creepy pervert in the hospital room down the hall. But the truth is, there’s more to it than that. And I tell her.

"I was... I still am, worried."

A frown flashes across her forehead. "About what?"

"That I'm going to hurt you, sweetheart. I don't know what your injuries are, we've never really talked about it."

She shifts so she's sitting up on the bed, looking down at me. Her hair is tousled, wisps framing her face, and then ends hanging over her bare chest, her soft pink nipples peeking out from under it. It’s a good thing I’ve just come, or else I’d been leaning over to take them into my mouth right now. Her lips are red and bruised and her face is bare, makeup free.

And I've never seen someone so stunning in my life.

"Sit up," she says softly, patting the bed in front of her.

And I move, kicking my pants completely off. I'm kneeling in just a black T-shirt in front of her, and I’m utterly comfortable. She smiles and takes my hand and lifts it to the left side of her head.

The hair there is shaved, around her scar. She guides my fingers over it. It's soft and smooth. I close my eyes and count the bumps, the stitches scars. It feels nothing like it looks.

"That’s where I hit my head and fractured my skull. I was in a coma for almost a month. But it’s all healed now. See? Nothing to worry about. I'm okay."

I open my eyes; she takes my hand and places it against her chest. My hand automatically cups around the curve of her breasts and she giggles a little.

"Feel my heart beat?"

I do, counting the thump-thump against my palm. "It's fast."

"Yeah. You do that." She moves her hand to run them over my wrist and fingers. "Did it hurt? When you carried me to the bed?"

"Yes." I won't lie to her. "A little."

"I'm sorry," she says, her face falling, her eyes losing their shine.

"Hey," I lift her chin with my finger, forcing her to look at me. "It's okay."

I take her hand and press it to my heart.

"What you do for me in here, heals the injuries I have here," I show her the scars on my hands.

She nods, understanding and sighs.

There's a twinkle in her eye and I wonder what she's thinking. She moves her hand down my chest, over my stomach to rest between my legs. My cock twitches, coming to life instantly.

"What about what I do for you there?"

"Be careful, or else you're going to find out."

Her eyebrows lift and she runs a fingertip along the length of my hardening cock. "Is this careful enough?"

"What do you think?"

"I think I could be a little more careless," she teases, her fingers curling into a fist and stroking the head of my cock.