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She looks up at me with her crystal eyes, her naked body curled up on my bed and I could stand here and watch her like this forever. But I turn and walk out of the room then hide the key where she won’t be able to find it and walk back into the room again.
She’s still in the same position and she doesn’t complain when I scoop her up. Her arms automatically go around my neck and she leans her head against my shoulder. Looking down at her swollen lips, I’m envious of everyone she’s ever talked to.
Everyone who those lips have moved for and a thought that’s been simmering in my mind for some time pops up. What if I don’t want to set her free? Ever. I could keep her like this. Nobody would need to know.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks and her hand strokes my cheek. “You look so serious.”
Thinking about not letting you go. No matter how many times you guess my name right. No matter how many times you beg and plead.
When I don’t answer, her eyes turn questioning and I rasp, “Was just thinking about how appealing it would be to always keep you like this. There’s nobody who could stop me. I wouldn’t have to share you with anyone else. Never see you choose anyone over me.”
Daphne swallows. “Why are you afraid that I’ll choose anyone else over you?”
Because she already did it once.
“I need to put you down,” I say instead of answering her question and she nods. Her arms around my neck loosen and I set her down on the bench in the shower. She crosses her legs but then grimaces and uncrosses them again.
Biting her lip, she carefully probes herself, murmuring, “It still feels so tender.”
I stare as if transfixed, forgetting to turn the water on but when I do it’s an ice cold stream and I let out a curse underneath my breath. I probably needed that, need to cool down because she’s twisting my head.
“It won’t feel so tender once you get used to it after a couple of times,” I rasp and her eyes go to my shaft, rounding as if she’s startled and excited at the thought of having to take me again. “And next time I’ll make sure to be more careful.”
Her eyes jerk up to mine in indignation. “That’s um...kind of you.”
“You should have told me that you’ve never been fucked before.”
“Why?”
“Because the thought of you with another man makes me want to die.” More than that. It makes me want to curl up in a fetal position and then die. But nobody claimed Daphne before me, the crimson on her legs is the proof of that. I wash it off, somewhat disappointed to see it go.
“You could get pregnant,” I say and when I look at her, I know that my eyes are raging with ownership because she swallows. “You’ve gone days without the pill.”
I don’t know if she takes it but I’m assuming that she does like most women.
To my sudden agitation she shakes her head. “Don’t think so. I recently had my monthlies.” She licks her lips. “But I’m happy it was you....who was my first.”
She can’t be happier than me. I tried to tell myself that her innocence didn’t matter to me, that she’ll be innocent to me no matter what but apparently there’s that dark part back in my brain that wouldn’t be able to handle the thought of anybody else’s hands on her.
Especially not after touching her and learning what an indulgence to a male she is with those lips, that body and that tight, tight hole. It still feels like she’s clutching around me and the look in her eyes when she came was devastating. She was stunning and so damn divine.
“Even though you hate me?” I ask but I know it can’t be true. She likes me. She has to like me.
“I don’t hate you.” She looks down. “Don’t be silly.” She inhales. “I could never hate you.”
“Had a change of heart?”
Daphne nods, looking a little bit guilty and I wash the rest of her body and the humidity in here causes her hair to crimp. She was always the prettiest girl of them all, the only one my eyes always followed and I must have seemed starving to her.
Sometimes she would laugh at me and run away but I would always find her. Whenever she got caught she would squeal, forcing me to press my hand over her mouth so that nobody would get angry at the loud sound.
Then her eyes would glimmer but she would pretend to be pouting until I asked her if she wanted me to find her. In response she’d nod and brim with sudden self-importance, happy that somebody cared enough to always seek her out.
Tugging my fist into her hair, I rub the wet strands between my fingers and she lets out a low moan. She’s not the prettiest girl anymore. Now she’s the prettiestwomanI’ve ever laid eyes on. Especially when she’s like this.
Gazing up at me with the look of a siren, she leans her face against my stomach and I stop breathing. Her cheek rubs against my abs and she playfully murmurs something about a washboard but I can barely hear what she’s saying.
I’m dazed, watching her through the fog and I want to dig into her, feast on her once more but she’s already told me that she’s feeling sore. And I’m not surprised, considering the way I pounded into her tightness. She took it all without making a fuss as if wanting to show me what a little hot number she can be.
