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His half nakedness a meal in itself. His huge member still bobbing from the front of his pants, a lifelong supply of what I need from today.
Forever.
“You don’t wanna sit next to me?” I pout, surprised by my feelings. But he explains quickly.
“I want to watch you eat, always.” He grins. Eyeing the food again and helping himself to a huge plateful before settling his gaze on my chest under his own come-stained shirt as he takes large bites of his own meal.
Each punch of his angled jaw into his food is a signal of what I know I still need from him.
Not just from his kitchen, but definitely meat-based, with bone and gristle and pumped heavily deep inside me.
The warmth of his seed runs heavy between my stiff nipples as we both eat in near-silence. Running a milky river all the way down to my already steaming pussy.
Being feasted on by such a man. Then having him finish on my chest and face is one thing.
Having him want me to eat in front of him afterward in his come filled shirt is the ultimate aphrodisiac, I discover.
Fuck. I want him so bad… But he’s so… big. And I’m so—
“Eat.” He grunts again, keeping his knowing grin wide. A subtle movement of his eyes reminding me that everything else will run its course as well as it already has today.
No more doubts. No more problems. Dillon’s here.
He’s the best teacher because he only wants to help me. Only wants me to do my best and experience all he has to offer by just being me.
How one man can tell me so much with a brief glance of his eye, the tiniest wink even?
It’s the measure of the man I know I want to be with forever.
I’m already his.
The food is amazing, but it’s his powerful gaze watching over me that really fills me up.
Giving me a constant thrill in my chest before he fills me with what I’ve already held, stroked, and tasted.
I mention it again out of awkwardness, not because I feel ready just yet.
“I really want to, I mean I...” I try to explain, swallowing a mouthful of food as his brow creases, concerned.
“Want to what?” he asks me knowingly.
The whole virgin thing? It’s good to have it out of the way by Dillon knowing, but I’m scared because if we don’t go all the way tonight he might lose this interest that’s still so heavy between us right now.
I stammer something about not wanting him to think I’m just a tease or won’t follow through by letting him claim me.
He sets his silverware down firm, his eyes blazing into mine as one of his huge hands presses over mine.
“You’re mine, Becky. If I have to wait a thousand years to claim you, I will. But the only thing I want to hear from your lips is that you are mine. None of this sorry talk, okay?” he says firmly.
I feel my head nodding but in my heart, I wish I could have just given myself to him in the heat of the moment instead of being so—
“Tight,” Dillon remarks his lip curling at the thought.
His own memory of his face between my legs making me blush.
“Your— I mean my sweet little pussy is so tight and so small. I understand,” is all he says before he resumes eating, still smiling to himself between mouthfuls as he keeps watching me eat.
I don’t know how he does it, but it’s like every single thing I have an issue with, I just know he can fix it with a word, a look, or that magic touch of his.
I can see too that Dillon’s a man who needs big everything.
A big truck, big clothes and plenty of food. To hear him refer to me as tiny, which I am next to him, makes me feel better than I ever have about myself in years.
I’m done eating, and I know he wants more but he calmly sets his plate aside, casually telling me to ignore the dishes and to follow him.
He stands and moves towards an open door leading to the rest of his huge house.
Like I said, big guy, big everything else.
I feel like he might want me whether I like it or not, his own arousal something he’s left out of his pants the whole meal and now it looks bigger and harder than before.
With my heart in my throat, I follow him. His ropes of come clinging to me under his shirt I’m still wearing, but feeling cooler now.
He only walks a short distance, then orders me to strip as he flicks on a light.
A large bathroom is just off an even bigger hallway that runs into the kitchen.
“Strip,” he says again, firmer, but with a little smile, bending over the bath to turn on the faucet.
