Page 127 of You Said I Was Your Favorite

Daisy runs her hands up and down my back, tickling my skin, making me shiver. I lie there for I don’t know how long, a big sweaty mess dripping all over her, but when I try to lift away from her, she presses her hands on my back, keeping me in place.

“Don’t go yet,” she whispers, and so I don’t.

I savor the feeling of her beneath me. Naked and sweaty and so fucking beautiful, it hurts to look at her. Hurts worse that I didn’t make her come when I was inside her, but I know she did earlier, when I went down on her. I’m going to rest for a little bit, and then I’m going to make her come again.

If I could, I’d make her come all night. With my mouth and my fingers and my cock. Giving her as many orgasms as she could stand until she couldn’t take it anymore.

That’s all I want. To give my girl pleasure. To hear her sob my name. To know I’m the only one who can make her feel like this.

The only one.

“You okay?” I finally ask, choking out the words.

She nods, her hands drifting up and down my back still. “Definitely okay.”

“You didn’t come.”

“You did.”

Lifting up so I can look at her face, I see that she’s smiling. “Kind of hard to hide it.”

Her smile is tremulous, her eyes brimming with emotion that makes my heart pang. “It was perfect.”

I kiss her forehead. “I hurt you?”

“Only for a little bit. It truly wasn’t that bad.”

I kiss her lips, searching her mouth with my tongue, and when I break away from her, she’s breathless, her body wiggling beneath mine. “What are you, some sort of perfect girl or what?”

“Only for you,” she whispers, the look on her face serious.

Well hell.

“I’ll be back,” I tell her, pulling out of her body before I crawl off the bed. “Gotta get rid of the condom.”

I practically run into the bathroom and shut the door, flicking on the lights so I can look at myself in the mirror. Completely naked with a deflated dick and a condom still on, all sweaty and with my hair sticking up everywhere, I look like a nightmare.

Jesus.

I dispose of the condom and grab a clean washcloth, running the water until it’s warm before placing the washcloth under the water, getting it wet. Once that’s done, I wash my hands, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I look like a mess and I try to smooth my hair out by finger combing it, though I realize quick that’s a waste of my time.

The longer I stare at myself, the more changed I feel, which is ridiculous but damn. What Daisy and I just shared…

Such a cliché, but she rocked my world.

It’s okay to tell her how you feel. She won’t throw it in your face later like everyone else in your life. She’s a good girl. Probably feels the same way you do.

Nodding once, I turn off the light and exit the bathroom, joining Daisy where I left her: in my bed.

She’s sprawled across the mattress, lying on her stomach, her hair messier than mine, the covers kicked off to reveal her perfect body. I’m seized with the need to worship all of that naked skin on display and I press my knee onto the mattress, studying her for a moment longer before I slowly crawl onto the bed.

“You awake?” I murmur, my hand hovering above her calf.

She nods, her hair rustling against the sheets. “I’m tired. I think you wore me out.”

Daisy doesn’t even know the lengths I will go in order to wear her out. It’s my dream to fuck her into oblivion for the rest of our days.

The realization is like a smack across my face and I pause, letting my thoughts sink deep into my heart.

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