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He didn’t help her down like she was accustomed to. Hooking his arms under her, he scooped her right out of the truck and kicked the door shut behind them. With a squeal of delight, she wrapped her arms around his neck as he cradled her effortlessly in his arms.
It was all so very romantic, being carried over the threshold like a brand new bride, and her heart felt like it might burst out of her chest as he continued up the stairs to the main bedroom.
And that feeling only increased when he finally did set her on her feet and she looked into his eyes. Love, so raw and pure it made her ache to see it, was plastered across his handsome face.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, lifting his hands to her cheeks, his calloused fingers surprisingly gentle on her skin. “Sometimes I look at you and still can’t quite believe I get to call you mine.”
“Matt…” At a loss for words, she tipped her head back, inviting him to kiss her.
Which he did. Slowly and thoroughly, leaving her breathless and trembling in the wake of it. Though he’d only touched her face, her entire body was on fire. Her skin was too tight, too sensitive, and she genuinely worried she was about to spontaneously combust.
Gripping the dark red sweater dress she’d chosen for the theater, he tugged the soft material up over her thighs, then her bottom, exposing her fevered skin to air that felt almost chilled in comparison, despite knowing he’d turned the heat on as soon as they’d walked in the door the night before.
He flashed her a wicked little smile before releasing her dress to cup her bottom in his large hands. Squeezing her cheeks just hard enough to surprise a squeak out of her, he pulled her up onto her toes and lowered his head again, his mouth hovering just above hers.
“I love those little noises you make, babygirl. But tonight, I’m going to make you scream.”
Need throbbed between her thighs, so intense it bordered on painful as he once again captured her mouth with his own. There was more heat, more demand in his kiss this time around, and she gladly surrendered herself over to it. To him.
Without breaking the kiss, he pushed her dress up higher, exposing the curve of her belly, his thumbs tracing lazy patterns over her skin as he undressed her. Up higher to the lace of her bra, which did next to nothing to protect her hardened nipples from his questing fingers.
She whimpered into the kiss when he just barely brushed a gentle touch over the aching mounds, and she felt his lips curve in response.
“Patience,” he murmured when he finally pulled away, his thumbs still caressing the upper swell of her breasts.
“Daddy, please.”
A soft chuckle met her breathless plea. “What do you want, baby? Do you want Daddy to touch you?”
“Yes. God, yes.”
Tilting his head, he brushed his lips over her cheek, her jaw, down the side of her neck, sending little jolts of pleasure straight to her core. “Where?”
“Hmm?” She was so lost in him, so drowning in pleasure, his question didn’t quite register at first.
“Where do you want Daddy to touch you? Use your words, babygirl.”
Oh, god. How the hell was she supposed to use her words when her brain was so scrambled with pleasure, she barely knew her own name? “Um. Down… down there.”
“Be more specific, Carly.”
Embarrassment only made her need burn hotter as she struggled for the words. “My-my pussy. Please touch my pussy, Daddy.”
“Let’s get you out of these clothes first.”
She couldn’t help but whine a little as he pulled away. Every inch of her body ached for him, and she was certain she would actually die if he didn’t give her some relief.
“Poor baby,” he cooed, his tone full of fake sympathy as he slid the dress from her body and tossed it to the side. Wrapping one arm around her middle to support her, he pressed his free hand between her legs, one finger sliding into her with such aching slowness she nearly wept. “Fucking hell, babygirl. You’re soaked. So wet and needy for Daddy.”
A second finger joined the first, stretching her just a bit and pulling another whimper from her throat. Desperate for some kind of relief, she rolled her hips and let out a loud gasp when her clit hit the palm of his hand.
“That’s my good girl. Ride Daddy’s hand until you come.”
There was something so wanton about standing in the middle of a stranger’s bedroom, grinding herself against her Daddy’s hand in a desperate race to orgasm. Imagining the picture she must make embarrassed her just enough to fuel her need as she rolled her hips over and over, pressing her clit against his hand.
And through it all, he whispered in her ear, telling her what a good girl she was. How pretty she sounded when she whined for him. How he could feel her soaking his hand and how he couldn’t wait to feel her pussy squeezing his fingers.
Until, after an almost embarrassingly short time, she cried out for him as pleasure flooded her, leaving her weak and trembling in its wake.
