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There’s a giant fucking bulge in his jeans, and it’s straining against the denim like it wants to escape. He likes my big milky tits. And I like him, enjoying the sight of me. So much.
The attention-seeking throb in my core makes me utter a soft sigh, as I massage my breast, milking myself far longer than I need to for comfort. “Mmm.God, that feels better. I was so fucking tight.”
His gaze snaps to mine, and I pretend I’m innocent as fuck. “Oh. You don’t mind, do you, Gunnar? I was so full, it hurt.”
He absently slides his tongue between his lips, and the muscles around his throat strain as he swallows. “Ah… no.” He sounds a little short of breath. “Of course not. You gotta do what you gotta do,” he adds, glancing at my soaked, translucenttank top again, and then quickly looking away, like he’s just now realized staring may be deemed inappropriate. So cute.
“Can I do anything else for you, while I’m here?” He runs a hand through his hair, as he looks around. “I made a lasagna with some of the stuff I brought over,” he says before I can respond. “I hope that’s okay. I didn’t want you to feel rushed to do anything when you woke up, because I knew you’d be giving Viv all your time. And I appreciate that, Jem. You’re doing a great job with her, and I know it’s hard to do the other stuff at the same time. I can come over more often, if you’d like. Make life easier for you. I want to… make things easy.”
His gaze drops to my breasts again, and to Viv, drinking. “She’s a good feeder, huh? You must be giving her the good stuff. Nice and sweet.” He cringes and clears his throat. “I — That sounded…”
My cheeks warm. “It’s okay. I liked it.”
He stares at me, his gray-blue eyes hungry. “Did you…?” He presses his lips together and seems to wrestle with his words, before he shakes his head and stands taller. “I should probably get going. I… Did I ask if you needed anything?” His voice is as strained as the denim covering his huge erection. “I meant to.”
I want him to press that big dick against me. I want him to come closer, to saygoodbyeto his daughter, and I want to see longing in his eyes when he says goodbye to me, so his desire to fuck me is undeniable.
I rock on my ass a little, looking around for something to lure him in. “Um… would you mind grabbing me another shirt?”
He leaves the room and comes back with the Nirvana T-shirt I washed and folded, so I could return it to him. I wanted to fulfill at least some part of our no-strings agreement and cement the idea in his head that I don’t need him to come into my life, thinking he can lure me into happy, blind dependence. I knowhow hearts get broken, and I’m not letting mine out to play that game. No, thank you.
Gunnar shakes out the shirt and offers it to me, and the way he stares me down means he got my message loud and fucking clear.
And he still went out of his way to take care of me.
Is this a fucking test? If I take his shirt, is it an admission that I like the way he behaved and want him to do it again? If I refuse it, it means I’d rather he keep his distance?
Does it have to be one or the other?
What if I want to play around with him, but not let him so close it’ll hurt me when he tires of me and leaves?
What do I do with this offer if I want to feel in charge of the situation?
He stands quietly, patiently holding his shirt out, giving me time to make my choice.
The most I feel in charge is when I tell him what I want, and he does it.
I juggle Viv, so I can remove my soaked tank top completely, and then I hold up my free arm. “Will you help me into it?”
Gunnar’s pupils are so dilated, his eyes are nearly all black. “Of course. Whatever you need.” He steps closer and threads my arm through one sleeve.
He trails his fingers down my arm with the fabric, taking liberties with his task, to touch me more than is necessary.
He runs his fingers through my hair, and I shiver as he eases my head through the neck of the Tee. When I shift Viv onto my other breast, heaccidentallystrokes the one she left behind, while he guides my bare arm through the other sleeve.
“Thank you,” I whisper, gazing up at him with mixed emotions. “That’s all I needed.” I like the way he touches me, as if I’m his, even though it’s sort of naughty of him.
Would he be into a casual thing? Just sex? Would that be too confusing for Viv? She’s young enough to not give a damn yet. Right?
Gunnar remains close, and all I can think about is his lips on mine.
“Can I kiss hergoodbye?” he whispers, glancing at Viv briefly as she snuffles loudly at my breast.
Unable to speak, I nod and hold my breath, as he bows his head to kiss her curly head.
He closes his eyes as the tip of his nose presses to my breast, and he lingers, inhaling audibly and scuffing his beard over my sensitive skin. “I’ll see you later, beautiful.”
I can’t help feeling like he’s talking to me when he says it, but when he opens his eyes, his focus is on Viv, and he brushes his fingertips over her hair before he stands.
