Page 84 of Peaches & Pistols

Delilah wraps Mia in a hug. The two of them have gotten the closest out of the girls and I think she’s good for Mia. She’s been slowly getting her comfortable with the equine therapy sessions and I hope the horses can help heal some of the trauma I can’t erase for her.

Mia, my love.

Be my Valentine?

My paltry scrap-paper note sits proudly on Mia’s nightstand in our bedroom. When I came home for lunch today, she rushed me at the door and jumped into my arms peppering kisses all over my face.

She made her signature chicken parmesan and apologized profusely for not making a peach cobbler. To prove how unperturbed I was about dessert, I coated my finger in marinara and swiped it down her neck and licked her clean until she was trembling.

When she took off to pick the girls up from school, I closed the store and hauled ass over to the florist and bought three bouquets—one for each of my girls.

The looks on their faces were worth every penny. I give Harper flowers every Valentine’s, but Mia and Everly were dazzled.

I ballooned with pride, providing them with such happiness, and then instantly deflated, enraged that fucking flowers on Valentine’s Day is a new experience for the both of them.

I’ll love and respect them until they forget there was ever an alternative.

Mia comes out of the bathroom in just her bra and panties. I forget my own name, hypnotized by her effortless beauty.

She walks slowly toward me, her confidence is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

“I want to thank you for the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had.” Her meaning is clear as she reaches for my belt buckle. My brain short-circuits when I stop her, while my cock whimpers from what surely would’ve been a fantastic orgasm.

Her face falls, crumbling from embarrassment and rejection.

“You don’t…want me?” Her question guts me.

“Honey, I want you so bad my dick could cut glass. But you don’t owe me a goddamn thing. I didn’t do it to get a reward at the end of the day.”

Shame blooms pink across her cheeks. Reason ten-thousand forty-two why Carter’s a dead man walking. How fucking dare he condition her to believe love and affection were conditional and had to be earned or repaid.

“The first time I have you won’t be after a long day spent entertaining sugar-high children, in the thirty minutes before we pass out to sleep.” I wrap her hands around my neck and grip her soft hips.

“The first time I have you will be when there aren’t kids down the hall, and I can take my time exploring every inch of this body.” My hands rub up and down her sides, thumbing the sides of her breasts, down past the lace of her panties.

“The first time I have you, I want you so drunk on pleasure you’re delirious. I want to hear you scream and beg like the good girl I know you are.”

“Oh my god.” Her whimper makes my dick leak.

I spin her in my arms, molding my chest to her bare back and walk her to the full-length mirror I installed on the closet door for her.

“The first time I have you, there’ll be nothing between me and your pleasure.”

I take the backs of her hands into my palms and guide them exactly where I want them. I make one of her hands massage her breast, and the other rub her clit through her soaked panties.

I take my time working her up with her own fingers. Pinching her nipples, circling her clit until her knees buckle. My woman falling apart just for me is intoxicating, the control heady.

“You are mine to protect. Mine to love. Mine to pleasure.” I increase the pressure on her throbbing clit, and she moans behind bitten lips.

“This body is mine. And I take care of what’s mine, Mia. I’ll give you more pleasure than you can handle, but I need you to be patient a little longer, until I can make it perfect for you. Because you deserve nothing less.”

I know the trauma she went through, and I plan to erase every memory and rewrite her relationship with intimacy until every part of her is mine.

“Now, be a good girl and come for me.” I pinch her fingers down on her clit and she detonates. I have to wrap my arm around her to prevent her from falling to the floor when her legs give out from ecstasy.

“Get ready for bed, I’ll get you a glass of water.” I slap her ass, shooing her into the bathroom before quickly ridding myself of my clothes and changing into clean boxer briefs.

Because Mia isn’t the only one who was out of her mind with pleasure. Controlling her body like an instrument that was made for me alone to play had me coming in my jeans like a fucking pubescent boy.