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Cooking a meal. Making my coffee and bringing it to me while I shave.
Accepting my family without preconceived notions or judgments.
By choosing me. Choosing to let me in.
“I do,” she says, a low whisper in the wind, but I hear them. Loud and clear. They also make me think of a future where I tie her to me in all the ways a man can. “It’s fast and our lives are crazy, but Malcolm, I…” Twirl takes in a deep breath and then lets it out slow “…I love you.”
At that moment, my life began.
Everything prior was a warm-up. A build up to what—the man I could be.
Because her love is what makes me a man. I’m worthy of her.
Her love. Devotion. Trust.
Everything else could go fuck itself; she’s what matters. Her opinions of me are what matter.
“I love you, too. So fucking much, London.” Turning her around, I wrap my arms around her and lift her off the ground so we’re chest to chest. My lips hovering over hers. “You’re the only thing in my life that matters, and I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you this. No matter what the future brings, what obstacles life may throw our way, my love for you will never be in question.”
Watery eyes meet mine with so much emotion that my heart clenches. “Thank you.”
“Never thank me for what I was born to do. Loving you is a gift.”
“I love you,” she says against my lips and on her next pass, I take possession of her mouth. Kiss her with every bit of my love—with the uncontrollable fire that burns within for the beauty writhing in my arms. She’s hungry for me, fighting for control of this kiss as our teeth clash and tongues taste.
Her hands are in my hair as I undo the knot at her nape holding the dress up. It falls to the ground and I reach for her thighs once more to hoist her up. Fingertips roam her skin, down her back, and over her ass, where I find nothing.
I take a step back, much to her protest, but I want to see her like this. Naked and in the moonlight with the ocean behind her. Fuck, my Twirl is flawless. Beautiful.
“Like what you see?” she says while looking at me from beneath her long lashes. A coy look that’s sexy, but it’s the sassy bite behind the questions that makes her dangerous. At this moment, this singular second, I’m her prey as I take in her silhouette.
Those luscious curves and the dip between her thighs. The perkiness of her round breasts and the tightness of her nipples.
How there’s a slight sheen on her upper thigh letting me know she’s turned on. Needs to be fucked.
That I will be the only man to ever take her. Bring her pleasure.
“I love what I see. What I own.” My voice is rough—deeper—and doing a horrible job at masking the mounting desperation. Hands clenching and unclenching, I take a moment to breathe and calm myself down enough to be rational. This is her first time, and I need to prepare her for my size. The pain is inevitable, but I’ll do what I can to minimize it.
“You’re wearing entirely too many clothes, Mr. Asher.”
A chuckle slips at her words. “Am I, now?”
“Yes. Lose it all.”
“Impatient little thing.” Not caring for the shirt one bit, I tear it open and pull it off, sending the buttons across the sand. It’s unimportant and in my way. My shoes and belt meet the same fate as they land somewhere, but my pants stay on for the time being with the button undone. She devours me with hooded eyes where she stands, a slight tremble in her body. “Now, can you do something for me, sweetheart? A little favor, if you will.”
“Anything.” It’s a plea. A whimper.
“Good girl.” On her next breath, I’m on my knees in the sand and holding a thigh up. “Take your leg and hold it high. Show me my pretty little pussy.”
She does as I ask and pulls the leg I’m holding up to her head. The perfect vertical split.
It takes her a few shifts to steady her equilibrium, but when she does, this dancer is beyond graceful. London is perfection. A temptation I plan to bring to heel.
Bringing my face against her core, I take in a deep inhale and groan. My first lick is slow, a gentle flick over her slit, but that changes quickly when her taste invades my senses. I’m gone. Hungry. A beast giving in to his nature as I bury my face between her thighs.
My cock is hard and throbbing—rubbing against the fabric of my pants as I devour her pussy. I’m like a man possessed. Starving. Lost to his baser instincts as I lose myself in her taste.
