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I’d rather walk on hot coals than ever hurt this beautiful girl.
She rolled her eyes like the question was ridiculous. “I told you, I’m fine.”
I retrieved some body wash from an alcove and poured some in my hand, lathering it up. “Don’t get feisty again,” I said softly before running my soaped-up hands over her breasts. She closed her eyes in contentment as her head lolled to the side.
I gave each perfect teardrop-shaped tit equal attention, strumming my thumbs over her nipples until they were sharp points, relishing how her lips parted and her eyes were half-closed. I loved how she reacted to me. And this body. Fuck, it was a work of art, and I would take my time exploring and cherishing every inch of her.
I caressed her stomach, moving over her belly button, down to her pelvis, keeping my touch light and gentle.
She thrust her pelvis at my hand as my finger touched her pink clit. “I’m not fine china. I won’t break.”
This girl. “Let me be the one to decide that.” My fingers smoothed over her slit, lower to her inner thighs and her juncture, carefully wiping away the streaks of blood mixed in with my cum.
My eyes were fixated on her pussy that was pink and swollen, and I couldn’t resist—I circled my fingers around her folds. “Are you sore?”
“No.” Her voice was a whisper, and she curled her hands over my shoulders, digging her nails into my skin as she spread her legs wider.
“Would you tell me if you were?” I continued to stroke her softly as I scanned her face. Her eyes were glassy, and she writhed under my touch.
“I told you I’m not delicate.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you said,” I growled. “Are you sore?”
“No,” she moaned and squeezed her thighs together, trapping my fingers snugly at her entrance. “Now, make me come.”
Dammit. She knew how to make me forget my best intentions. How the hell had she kept her innocence intact for so long? A surge of jealousy pulsed in my veins, and my caveman mentality set in.
“You want to come again, Princess?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Tell me how many.”
“How many?”
“How many have touched you here?” The tip of my index finger pressed in. “How many have touched my pussy? How many people will I have to kill for touching you?”
“Aaron,” she gasped in surprise. “That’s nothing to joke about.”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
“How many have you been with?”
I clenched my jaw. “I haven’t been with anyone in ten years.”Since my wife died.
She must’ve realized the meaning of my words, and her eyes held sympathy, and she stammered, “Oh… I-I’m so—”
I wasn’t going down this road right now. I scowled and pushed my finger deep inside her. “Answer my question, Amber. How many?”
“One,” she panted. “It was one time, and I didn’t even come. Prom date my senior year. Trust me, it wasn’t memorable at all.”
“Then we need to rectify that. Don’t we?”
Withdrawing my finger, I picked her up and carried her over to a built-in bench, spreading her thighs apart. “Please tell me no one has kissed this sweet cunt.” I leaned in and ran my mouth over her clit.
“No,” she exhaled unsteadily. “No one but you.”
“Good.” I nibbled down to her slick opening and licked her delicate flesh. “Good girl. Saving your pretty pussy for Daddy.” I thrust my tongue inside of her.
