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I decided when I was nine that boys were stupid.
This isn’t a boy, though. This is a man. A really sexy, conflicted one…and I am drawn in a way that I truly expected to go my whole life without experiencing. I thought it might happen for Ripley, but I’ve always been too sarcastic and sensible to consider getting swept away.
When I drop my robe and watch his handsome features tighten with pain, when I see that gigantic ridge pushing at the front of his pants, I am already in serious danger of being swept. It has to be why I say it. Words that would have made me giggle an hour ago.
“Please don’t go…Daddy.” I unfasten my bra and let it fall away, forgotten. “I’ll be a good girl, I promise.”
I’m not giggling at the way those very bad, very forbidden phrases make me feel. Those words on my lips turn me into a different version of myself. I’m not Alana, the goofy girl who always has a camera attached to her neck, I’m Alana, Gavin’s little girl, and according to the madam of this establishment, he wants to fuck me on my hands and knees.
The thought of it makes my tummy feel fluttery.
Makes me want to bite my lip and turn my foot in, shyly, awkwardly, because I think he’d like it. And I want to be lusted after by this man. I want him to use me for his male purposes. The way he said “little girl” is still echoing in my head, shimmering with a touch more sensuality every time. Is it possible…I won’t just enjoy being compensated for tonight? That I’ll actually love giving this man what he came for?
Because as much as I’ve been distracted by Gavin’s voice, scent, face, body…I do need the money for tuition. There’s no way I can let him leave unsatisfied, or I’ll be stuck in Julian when the semester begins next week.
“Alana,” he says finally, adjusting the heavy-looking bulge in his pants. “You don’t have to do this. You shouldn’t be doing this.”
“I want to.” Going on instinct, I slide my fingertips into the triangle of my green lace panties, just barely allowing the pad of my middle digit to tuck into my lips. My God, I’m so wet here. Wetter than is considered normal, surely? “Don’t go. I want you.”
His jaw is slack, nostrils flaring as he watches where my hidden fingers dip into my sex. “Fuck. I can hear how slick it is.”
Oh good, all this dampness is normal. Or at least he seems to like it. I’ve tried masturbating a few times, mostly at Ripley’s stern insistence, but I could never reach that great height of pleasure everyone is always going on and on about. “Do you want to touch?”
He makes a hoarse, withering sound that communicates what an understatement I’ve made. “I want to do more than touch. I want to eat it, fuck you, and eat it again.”
A hot shiver wracks me, tightening my nipples like screws, raising sensitivity bumps on my skin and forcing me to clench my back teeth. I think if Gavin had been watching me the few times I’ve tried giving myself pleasure, I would have achieved an orgasm pretty darn easily. Right now, though, I don’t want to do it myself. I want him to do it for me. And God, I want him to utilize my body to give himself that almighty relief. Want to watch his expressions change, want to feel his weight press me down, his teeth rake my naked skin.
Gavin still seems conflicted so I hook my fingers in the sides of my panties. Before I’ve even shucked them down my legs, he makes a broken, surrendering sound and unzips his pants, sliding his long-fingered hand through the sagging opening and into the waistband of his black briefs. The muscles of his forearm shift, his fist repeatedly punching against the cotton, and I realize he’s stroking himself. Looking at my virgin flesh while he does it.
“God help me, I’ll never be able to pull out of that pretty little thing,” he groans, coming toward me a few steps. “Look how precious it is. It’ll overflow with my first spurt.”
My knees grow so weak under a rush of…definitely lust, though I’ve never experienced it until tonight, that I drop onto the edge of the bed, my hands curling in the comforter. “Gavin…”
He stops right in front of me, his pumping hand and manhood still hidden in his briefs, the jerks of his fist stopping a scant inch from my mouth. Like he has one more barrier up and he’s asking me to eliminate it. “What is it, princess?”
“Can I see it?” I ask, my cheeks heating. “I’ve n-never seen one before.”
His barrier crumbles. “Hell, here I come,” he grits out. “At least I get to pay a visit to heaven first.”
