by Mia Madison
“It’s complicated though,” she continues. “My mom died when I was nine and I’m all he’s got. He never really got over losing her. He can get a little over-protective.”
“It makes sense,” I nod. I look over at her, looking perfect in a white dress, swirly from the waist down but tight at the top. It molds her gorgeous tits perfectly. “I’d be over protective of you too.”
She smiles at that, takes a deep breath and relaxes
“Hi,” she says, then leans over and plants a quick sweet kiss on my stubble, already growing back in even though I shaved less than an hour ago.
I feel like we’ve known each other for more than two days. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world for me to be picking her up for a date. I want to do this forever – be with her. Have her beside me every day. To talk to, to look at, to touch. Especially that. To touch any way I want, as soon as she belongs to me. But I have to not rush myself. Us.
I could pull her right onto me in the truck, have her climb into my lap so I could cover her mouth with mine and cover her flesh with my hands to squeeze those luscious round tits.
But I also want to restrain myself. To know her better, or maybe more important, to have her know me. Waiting to enjoy her naked body will make finally claiming her all the sweeter.
“I mean, he’s being completely irrational, right?” she continues. “What, who, could be a danger to me in a small town like ours? Where everyone knows everything about every one.”
Shit.
“What is it, Rand?” she asks, an adorable look of concern passes over her pretty features. I know I can never pull the wool over those shining fresh acorn eyes. She deserves to be able to trust the man she’s with. If she found out down the road, after giving herself to me, it would tear us apart.
“Nothing, babe,” I say and take her hand in mine, to rest it on my thick thigh.
I’m not avoiding the issue but I’ll pick it up when the time’s right. Right now I just want to enjoy Caila a little while longer.
“You look amazing,” I tell her, squeezing her hand briefly. The simple white cotton dress makes her look like an angel. Paired with her red cowboys boots, she’s a fallen angel, or will be soon.
I decided after the suit disaster, not to try too hard to impress her on our first date. I take her to a nice Italian place. I’ve worked on the owner’s car and all the cars belonging to his extensive family so we’re greeted like old relatives ourselves. Even Caila gets a kiss on both cheeks from the nonna that comes out of the kitchen to hug me tight. This is the closest thing to family I’ve got now.
“You weren’t worried about getting that white dress dirty tonight, with me?” I joke, loosening up the start of our conversation once I’ve installed her in her chair and the wine is poured from the carafe.
“I was counting on it,” she purrs, her eyes alight with fire, catching my gaze and holding it.
Instinctively I reach for her hands, resting on the table, the only part of her I can touch at the moment.
We gaze at each other for an age, the heat rising and rising through every cell until I feel I might explode with the urgent desire to strip her naked and feel her skin pressing into mine.
We might have sat there like that, reeling from the onslaught of chemistry exploding between us, except Maria, the family granddaughter, needs space to set down the basket of bread and some appetizers.
“I love this place,” Caila says happily “How come I’ve never been here before?”
“I imagine you’re used to something fancier? The country club?”
“I’m not like that, Rand.” She shakes her head with a little frown. “Honest I’m not. I like genuine people, good people, not snobs.”
“You just date them?” I joke.
“Not now,” she comes right back.
“I get that about you. It draws me to you even more. And did I forget to tell you how stunning you look tonight?”
“Thank you, I think you have mentioned it once or twice but I like it,” she says. “And I didn’t thank you for the flowers.”
She brought them inside with her, saying she was afraid they’d die in the truck. So sweet and thoughtful. They’re between us now in a jam jar vase, our fingers entwined on either side of it. I pick up her hands every opportunity, needing to feel her in my palms, how the lively blood rushes through her body. My hands look so enormous, like a bear palming her small ones. She’s so delicate yet with a strong heart I know could take on anything she wanted.
I hope she wants me.
We eat an enormous meal. Caila likes to eat and I like that about her. Then we linger over a chocolate creamy dessert, unwilling to get up and leave. I don’t want to take her home. Not now, not ever. But I can hardly haul her back to my man cave. A one room studio where the kitchen is right beside the sagging bed.
The heat sitting on the table between us puts the candle to shame. When she twines her bare foot around the back of my leg I almost lose it. When we get back to my truck, there’s no telling what will happen.
Eventually we need to leave, the last ones to do so. Caila wraps her hands around my bicep and presses her side into my arm. The flesh of her breast crushes against me and I can tell she’s not wearing a bra. Idiot, of course she isn’t. The deceptively simple white dress is backless, as I discovered sliding my hand up her spine. My blood rushes around my body. Having her soft curves pressed into my hard ones, she seems made to line my body.
I want nothing more than to wrap her into the fold of my arms and crush her to me. All the walk to the truck, parked on a side street, I’m dealing with the blistering heat mangling at my skin, the blood pushing at my edges. I cannot take her back to her father’s house but I can’t take her to mine either.
We reach the car and I open the door for her. Turning to her with a flourish, like a gentleman, I’m slammed with a tornado force.
Caila’s hands claw at my shoulders and she scrambles up my body to reach my mouth. Her lips crash into mine with a hunger I’ve never felt in a woman. She opens her mouth to let me in and after a second’s hesitation I go over the edge into the dream.
I cup her head in my palm to hold her closer while my tongue delves into her mouth, swirling and tangling in a furious dance of possession. My other hand slides down her back to cup her other perfect orb and help her elevate so I can take her deeper between my lips. I want to suck her in and drink her up and take her completely. Her breasts pressed into my hard muscular chest make my head spin into a vortex of lusty need. She makes a space between our aligned torsos, scratching at my belt buckle, wanting me freed. Her hand palms at my bulge and she gasps as she tugs more urgently at the metal.
With a massive exertion of self control, I clasp her hips and unsuction my mouth from hers. Her eyes mist at the sudden halt to her hungry passion. They quiz me with confusion.
Chapter 8
Caila
“There’s something you have to know,” Rand husks against my lips.
His hot breath fills my mouth and I swallow it hungrily, wanting every part of him including the air he inhales.
“Before -” his voice croaks so he has to turn away to clear his throat.
“What, do you have a disease?” I ask, trying not to pout at the interruption.
My voice comes in breathy pants and I have to resist the urge to drag him back onto me, to climb up his solid body again. I’m so hungry for Rand, my hands are inching his tee out of his waistband. I feel the huge bulge pressing at his jeans just beneath my fingertips.
“Hell no. I’m probably the cleanest man in town,” he laughs with irony. “You ever see me out with fast women?”
“Not until now,” I come right back and tug at the end of his belt buckle.
I love how I’m suddenly a little wanton, demanding what I want from him. It’s empowering and addictive. This is what he does to me.
I yank down his zipper and his enormous shaft springs out, hard and throbbing. God, it’s gorgeous.
“Babe,” he groans as I free his commando and wrap my hands around the prodigious girth with reverence.
It’s incredible, so big and stiff, all velvety around the throbbing vein. I slide along the rock solid length in my palm. I can hardly clasp the entire width in one hand so I wrap my other around and glide up and down the shaft from balls to lush head.
Rand grabs at air, heaving for breath in his lungs.
“You should know,” he rasps.
Why is he still talking?
His hands are on my hips like he wants to stop this and press me away. But he just can’t. Lust has overtaken both of us, we’re on a speeding train of hungry desire and I am ready to eat greedily all over again.
“I don't want to know,” I murmur, between gulps.
It’s ridiculously hard to take a full breath. It’s been like that all evening, just looking at Rand across the table from me. His gorgeous warm eyes making me feel adored, that sensuous mouth every time he licked some sauce from his lip. His wide shoulders and swollen chest muscles pressing at his tee.
Now it’s like being at the top of a mountain without oxygen. I made my decision as I got to know him over a four course dinner prepared especially for us by the nonna who obviously had a thing for Rand like all the women do. Even the waitress, younger than me, was trying not to ogle him but he didn’t notice. He never took his eyes off me the entire meal.
I knew I would have Rand Aikins inside me tonight or die trying.
“I mean I do,” I gasp. “I want to know every single detail of you. But not now,” I add as I speed up my stroke on his amazing thick pole. “Right now I just want you, Rand. I need you. Please. Don’t make me beg so hard.”
I try to climb into the cab but Rand has other ideas. He picks me up from the running board and carries me to the back. My arms and legs tightly wrapping him, he holds me in one arm like I’m weightless as he flips down the tailgate and then lets out a deep groan.
“I don’t have anything for you to lie on,” he rasps. “Your white dress, your bare back. It’ll be too hard for you lying on the metal bed.”
So sweet – even now he’s thinking of my comfort. My clothing. When all that’s on my mind is having his impressive width parting my folds and sliding deep into me. I haven’t ever known a guy who thinks much about anything but himself.
“I thought I might lie on top of you,” I whisper. “Or are you too hard as well?”
He rewards me with a filthy appreciative grin. I’m loving how feisty I can be with Rand. He doesn’t need to have his ego boosted to be made to feel like a man. He’s pure masculinity and even with the toughest woman I doubt that would change. I could be a real partner to a man like this. Two people bringing each other up and making each other stronger. I’m not thinking about any of that right now.
It's just a flitter of thought in my head as I reach behind me for the button at my waistband that holds the cross straps. But he beats me to it, pushing his hard fingers under mine he grapples for the small disc and pulls it undone. Flutters of anticipation, thrills of eagerness, lift off in my chest. I feel my nipples harden and push through the fabric.
I’m glad I decided not to wear a bra. The pressure of desire builds up in my unrestrained breasts. My flesh expands and tingles with desperate desire to be squeezed and mangled in Rand’s fists.
With my legs wrapped around his pelvis, ankles crossed behind him, I pump my hips slowly so my spread pussy slides up and down the underside of him. My slickness coats him and he lets out a low raw sound. His eyes roll up into his head like the sensation is too much, it’s blown his mind. I’m blowing his mind. Every response from Rand builds my confidence. And makes me wetter.
I yank his tee shirt up higher over his abs and haul a sigh as the perfect carved ridges are exposed to me. I could look at him all night and one day I will but now I’m a crazy thing.
His hand slides up my rib-cage and catches the underside of my breast. He makes another low feral sound as he discovers it bare under the thin white cotton. Although he can hardly have failed to notice my nipples pushing through the fabric while we ate. I arch my back and clench as he pinches the tip and pulls it out from my enlivened flesh.
“Feels so good,” I whimper, dropping my head back.
With my limbs wrapping his solid body, he turns to sit on the lowered apron. I’m completely wowed by the strength in his arms and the way the taut baubles of his biceps harden erect as he lifts both of us to shunt back along the flatbed. The instant he sets us down on the metal, he reaches to pull down the skinny straps of my dress so my tits bob free. The night air makes my nipples push out even harder and he takes each in his thumbs and fingers to roll them around so shards and flickers of light fill my body.
“I’m so ready,” I whimper.
His huge hand on my thigh, the other tugging out my nipple, are each sending me wild with need. Electric pulsations keep running down my legs and up into my core, hungry for more of him. I need all of him, spreading me apart and crushing me under him. Except I’m on top. I get to set the pace.
“Are you sure, Caila?”
“Never more sure of anything,” I whisper.
Rand immediately dives into the bared flesh, sucking along the side of my neck and around my lobe. I shiver under his hands as he bites and nips all the way down to my breast, no slobbering from this expert kisser.
“I only want to make you feel good,” he grits into my flesh before mangling it in his hand and pushing it deeper into his mouth.
I slam my hands down on his broad shoulders, bent forward to lean down on me. I need more. I need him everywhere.
“More, now,” I moan, gasping out the words
So good. So so good.
Those same words run through my head over and over like a mantra as I stroke and grip. I need to touch him everywhere at once without losing my mind at the pleasure flooding through me. It stretches my skin lining, forcing its way out in an explosion of release. It won’t be long. A climax is swirling through my core like a whirlpool gathering and pulling down to the depths.
“Rand,” I moan, my breath coming faster and more ragged.
He squeezes my breasts like putty and tugs out the nipples harder, on the edge of pain which is soooo delicious.
My eyelids flutter open and find him watching me. His eyes are taking in my undoing, the pain of my pleasure increasing with every second, before flitting down to my full breasts squashed in his fists, my huge pellet nipples responding eagerly to his corkscrewing.
I’m on top, straddling his pelvis so his cock lies between my folds through the drenched fabric of my underwear. But Rand is controlling me completely from his prone position beneath me. He uses my body like a tool from his work bench and I love it.
Some mewling noises escape my lips and my panties drench again. I need to give him some of what he’s drawing from me. I need to show him I’m an equal lover in this. I reach under the skirt of my dress, hook my fingers into the side of my soaked panties and pull them swiftly to one side. Rand’s eyes are fixed on my movement, half lidded with hunger as his cock length settles between my dripping folds.
“Oh yeah, Baby, show me.” he grits. “Let me look at you. Show me your beautiful pussy.”
Chapter 9
Rand
The sight of Caila’s body as she gradually unravels for me is enough to drive me insane. Her full breasts are uplifted with a little upturn, same as her nose. As she slides and grinds gently along my rigid dick under the tent of her dress around us, they sway and bounce firmly. But they feel oh so pliable in my grasp.
I’m loving how she straddles me and sits up on me to slide her wet juices back and forth, torturing my wood. I can’t believe I’ve got my hard calloused hands all over this angel. I can’t believe she wants this so bad. Wants me this much.
When she pulls aside her panties for me and I gaze on her pink little pussy, spread open I almost lose it right there. She’s glistening wet and the aroma of her is the sweetest
perfume. I want to pull her up my chest, lift her and position her pussy right over my mouth so I can plunge freely inside her tight hole, that’s puckering under my gaze.
“Touch yourself,” I command her and she does what I say immediately. With a little smile that says she’s getting exactly what she needs and enjoying every moment.
Torturing me, knowing how desperately hard it is to keep my hands off her, my mouth from lapping up every drop of her sweetness. It seems that we both want to draw this out as long as possible, not just go for a fast hard fuck. She wants to revel in my body against hers as much I want to drink in every part of her, whether with my eyes, my mouth, or my fingers – we both know where this will end. With me buried all the way inside her body and her screaming for more. We want to extend it as long as possible, taking our delectable lust-fueled time.
She slides her fingers back and forth across her wet pink folds and I’m mesmerized by her pleasuring herself. The way her head tips back to inhale from the stars.
She strokes one fingertip across her clit point, engorged and poking out from her spread so violently it looks like it’s raging as hard as my dick.
But it’s delicious how she teases me, how we’re teasing ourselves on each other. She traces circles around the tiny bulge, moaning and thrusting. But when she moves further back toward her shuttered eye, I lose it. Her pussy is mine now. I don’t even want her touching herself there. I grasp her wrist and pull her hand away to replace it with mine. My harder, fatter finger replicating her strokes.
She bucks her hips against me, loving my more forceful caress. Loving that it’s me touching her. She tries to reach for my cock but I hold her wrist in restraint so all she can do is writhe against my stroking fingers while her tits bob up and down above me.
I circle in the juices flooding her open pussy, working gradually back to the hollow of her entrance. She bucks more fiercely now, moaning and whimpering my name. Her pelvis circles and circles around my fingers urging me to push inside. I can feel the craving gripping at every pore in her body, the yearning to take me.