Desire Me

by Kayla C. Oliver

  I’m fired up, exhausted, and terrified, a combustive mixture of emotion that’s fueling me. I wish it had been Dakin. I mean, I’m not an idiot. Virginity is a sham. Sure, I’ve never had a cock inside me, but I’m also not some pure, stupid girl. I doubt Jackson would even know the difference if I’d slept with Dakin last night.

  Bloody hell, my life is such a damn mess.

  I cross the dirt road and take the little-used path through the tall grasses. The hill is a bit steep, but I’m sure on my feet. I can hear the sound of water rushing, of the wind making the leaves overhead flutter, and the scent of water hits me like a runaway train.

  Any other time, this would have been fun. It would have been a good experience. For any other reason it would have been.

  “Jackson?” I call out, keeping my voice quiet. The grasses give way to a little clearing at the edge of the river. The water is moving lazily here and I half expect to see a group of teenagers swimming in the deep pool.

  But this spot is pretty quiet. It’s not a well-known hang out. Not when down the river a ways there’s a huge spot where it all opens up and rocks let girls bake in the sun and the deep water lets people swim.

  “Jackson?” I say a bit louder.

  Suddenly, a hand covers my eyes and another covers my mouth. “Don’t make a sound.” Jackson’s whisper scares me and I comply, going limp in his arms. I don’t want him to think I’m going to fight. I don’t want him to hurt me.

  “I loved you,” he whispers, and I nod, miserable as he speaks. He never loved me. Love isn’t trying to hurt someone. It’s not cruel. It’s not deception. It’s not everything Jackson has shown me over the last few days.

  “If you scream, I’ll kill you,” he whispers. I nod, and he pulls his hand off my mouth slowly, as if ready to clamp back down if I make a sound. When I don’t, he releases my eyes and turns me around.

  I see him look me up and down, and hate that I’m wearing this dress. “Lay down,” he says, and I look around.

  “Right here?” I whisper, my throat aching as the words pass. He nods and I sit down in the dirt. Looking up at him, I hate him and myself. “Where’s my mom?” I ask, looking around.

  “Shut up,” he growls, unbuttoning his pants as he drops to his knees before me. Suddenly, something black circles his neck and he lets out an odd gurgling sound as he’s hauled back. Behind him, I see Dakin, his arms flexing as he holds a strap around Jackson’s throat.

  “No!” I scream, jumping to my feet.

  Dakin looks at me, his anger shining through as he holds Jackson captive. “Your mother is at home. Call her.”

  I pick up the phone and do as he says. Two rings later and my mother comes on the line. “Camille! How are you?”

  Tears fill my eyes. “I love you mom,” I say, my hatred aimed at Jackson, “I’ll call you back soon, okay?”

  “Is everything alright?” she asks, her voice sounding worried.

  “It is now,” I tell her, before telling her again that I love her and hanging up. To my shock, Jackson laughs.

  “You didn’t even call her?” he asks, his face red as Dakin tightens the strap. “Dumb bitch,” he chokes out.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Dakin

  I want to kill him. With the leather straps tight around my knuckles, I know how easy it would be to put my knee in his back and pull hard enough to really cut off his air and blood flow. I could kill him. I should kill him.

  And with the rage in her eyes, I know Camille wouldn’t fault me for it.

  “The cops are on their way,” I say to her, needing her to know I’m not going to kill him.

  “Thank you,” she whispers. As if in response, I hear Zac and Cliff talking as they walk down the path. Two cops, one Zac, and the other a guy I’ve talked to a handful of times step into view with Cliff a step behind.

  Zac takes in the view, and quickly cuffs Jackson. I see them looking over at Camille, then at me. Of course they know. They know that this girl somehow worked under my skin. They know I’m here for her, to help her, to save her. I don’t have to say it, they just know.

  Zac looks over at me as I release Jackson and let him into the officer’s care. I nod, knowing he’s wanting to tell me to bring her in for a statement later. I’ll do it. But they’ve got so much on him right now, they’ve got a pattern of abuse from this asshole. He’s going to get locked away. He has to.

  I take Camille’s hand. She’s clammy, shaking, and I pull her in close. “It’s okay,” I whisper to her, and she looks up at me. Deep in her blue eyes, there’s an apology and absolute trust. As the officers leave with Jackson between them, I catch Cliff’s glance.

  To my surprise, he winks at me before disappearing into the grasses.

  “I’m sorry,” Camille whispers, tears spilling down her ashen cheeks. “I should have trusted you, I should have listened.”

  “You did what you thought was right,” I tell her as we walk toward the road. “I’ll never fault you for that.” How could I? If it was my mother I thought would be harmed, who would I listen to? No one. I’d just do everything I could to make sure she was safe.

  “Can I stay with you?” she whispers, and I nod.

  “For as long as you’d like.” To my surprise, I’ve no qualms making that promise. I know she’s not using this as an in to disrupt my life. She wouldn’t ask if she didn’t need it. And I’d never be able to turn her away. She’s a good girl. Perhaps a misguided one with terrible taste in partners, but she’s good at the core. She’s got the best of intentions. She’s willing to accept horrible things to protect the people she loves. How could I not admire her?

  I lead her to the car and open the door for her. She sits in the passenger seat and I hurry around to the driver’s seat. “Are you hungry?” I ask as I pull on my seat belt.

  “Depends,” she says, some bit of mischief coloring her voice, “are you cooking?”

  “I could. Or we could go out.” I see the trembling of her hands and know I need to get her home. “How about we go home and you climb in a bath while I make you something?”

  Her blue eyes are appreciative as she turns to me. “I’d like that,” she says, her hand finding mine. Our fingers link as I drive us back toward my house.

  Then, it clicks.

  How about we go home.

  ***

  I knock and she lets out a relaxed, “Come in!”

  I open the door and find her in the bath, covered by a thick layer of bubbles. I set the tray beside her on the stand I’d brought in just for this purpose. She’s watching me, a curious look in her eyes. “Wash my hair?” she asks once I’ve got everything set up.

  “Sure,” I agree. Rolling up my pant legs, I climb up behind her and dangle my legs beside her shoulders in the tub. Taking a bottle of shampoo, I begin to rub it into her scalp with gentle fingers. These fingers almost murdered the fucker who’d attacked her. But I could never hurt her.

  She lets out little moans of sheer pleasure as I massage the suds into her hair. The sounds are quite like the moans she’d been making when I’d been licking her sweet pussy.

  Fuck.

  I can’t think like that right now. She’s been through so much she doesn’t need to deal with me wanting her right now. Still, the sounds she makes are making me rock hard. I’m a fucking bastard. Which has never been a problem before now, but I want to make her feel safe. I don’t want to be the next guy because I’m not the same kind of evil as Jackson. I’m still a fucking asshole, just not also a rapist.

  She’s safe here. I can control myself. For now.

  “Right there, Dakin,” she says, panting my name in a way that makes me see stars. Maybe I can control myself. Fuck, she’s pushing me.

  Taking her hair in my hands, I lower her to rinse her hair. She floats in my hands, total trust in her as she closes her eyes. With my free hand, I gently scoop water close to her head to rinse the suds away. The long tub allows her to fully float free and I know my hand under her head is t
he only contact she’s got right now.

  And I thank fucking heaven I got this tub. I’d expected sex in here, but this… this trust from Camille is sexier than any encounter I’ve ever had. As if she’s reading my mind, she opens her eyes and looks up at me.

  “I want you.” The simple words are said with total calm and a warmth I didn’t expect.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Camille

  To my surprise, he bends down and kisses me.

  I’ve already decided that this bullshit with Jackson isn’t going to ruin me. I want Dakin. In every way possible. And I’m going to see what he’s willing to share with me. This is my fucking life and I’m going to live it the way I want to.

  And if that means figuring it out as I go, then I’ll do that.

  With Dakin’s hand cradling my head and his lips on mine, I realize this is perfect. I trust him. While I know he’s capable of awful things, I don’t believe he’d do them to me.

  With his mouth on mine, I realize I’ve never been kissed like this. Not just the upside down thing – which, if I’m being honest, is a whole new experience on its own – but I mean I’ve never been kissed like this.

  He’s both demanding and kind, desperate and subdued. A layered mess of contradictions and hunger that sends my pulse thundering. Parting my lips to allow him full access, I enjoy how his tongue slips into my mouth and seeks out my own.

  Swallowed by hot water and silken bubbles, I’m free floating in an ocean with him as my only purchase, with his lips on mine to remind me I’m not alone. But I am, alone here, with him. We’re two people on a planet of billions but he’s the only one who’s within my senses. We’re the only important ones right now.

  He pulls back and I hear him murmur, “Sweet Camille.”

  But I couldn’t answer if I wanted to.

  Still, I’m not about to let him get away right now. I rise up and turn to face him while on my knees. The air is chilly on my wet skin and I know he can see my naked body from head to belly. But I’m not ashamed. I wrap him in a hug, not caring that I’m getting him wet.

  Pressing my lips to his, I try to convey that he’s perfect with nothing more than a kiss. The tub begins to drain and he pushes me back to throw a towel around me as I pull him back in. Our lips meet again as if we’d suffocate without each other.

  The towel is soft on my skin and I shiver at the slight chill in the air. As if he feels it, he backs off and begins to dry me. I study the intensity behind his eyes as he focuses on my shoulders where he’s patting me with the towel.

  “We’re going to do this right,” he says, his breath on my wet lips. The dark promise in the words sends a shiver through me and I nod, unable to answer him. I’m not totally sure what he means, but I’d follow him to the ends of the earth if he asked.

  I stand up and he continues to dry me as the last of the water drains from the bottom of the tub. He wraps me up in the towel and grabs my ass. As if I weigh nothing, he lifts me and I automatically wrap my legs around him.

  My lips meet his as excitement thrums in my blood. How does he do this to me? It’s like he’s the spark that ignites my very soul. The kiss deepens as his tongue traces my lower lip with a stunning sweetness that brings tears to my eyes.

  But I’m not going to cry. Not with joy, not with sadness.

  We’re moving, guided by his intimate knowledge of his home. When he lowers me onto the bed, I feel myself sinking into perfection as his weight comes down and pins me. Heat settles low in my core as tingling excitement dances over my skin.

  My hips move with him as if the primal part of me knows exactly what to do. I want him to show me, to teach me, to bring every moment we’ve shared thus far to the highest possible point before we plunge into the abyss of pleasure together.

  Fog descends on my senses as I focus in on every point of contact he’s giving me. His hard chest on mine, his hips holding me down, his thighs between my legs, and his hands capturing my wrists and bringing them above my head so I’m totally at his mercy.

  And I love it.

  “Dear sweet Camille,” he breathes out on a sigh against my chin as he pulls the towel from the front of me. With my body bare before him, he seems to take a moment to back off and admire me. I watch him and when his eyes come back to meet mine, I’m stunned by the desperation in them.

  “You’re fucking beautiful,” he growls and my heart threatens to pound free of my ribs. His head dips and he sucks one of my nipples into his mouth. The burst of pleasure is too much for me and I whimper in pleasure and pain.

  Everything he does sends a white hot need rolling through me like thunder and I wonder if this is what it’s supposed to feel like: overwhelming need and pleasure, desperation and excitement. If not, I’m pretty sure I’m about to have an embolism.

  But I’d fucking die happy.

  His lips leave and he breathes on the nipple, teasing it further. Then he’s peppering me with kisses on my ribs, my belly, my tits, and on every inch of skin he can. It feels like every wall he’d tried to put up between us is dissolving and it’s liberating.

  I grab the bottom of his shirt and pull it off him. When his skin touches mine I feel like I’m drowning in pleasure. He’s so warm, like fire, branding me, consuming me.

  “I want this,” I whisper as he hesitates. His eyes meet mine and I realize he’s hesitating to keep control, not because he doesn’t want me.

  “I want you,” he says, that low growl waking something primal in me. I’m not afraid of him. I want whatever he’s willing to give, and whatever he’ll share with me. His hand leaves my wrist and comes to rest on my chest. The pad of his thumb runs over my hard nipple and I gasp at the sensations.

  His lips touch the nipple and he moves to the other side. With a flick of his tongue, he wakes every last nerve in my body and my back arches. A whimper leaves my lips and I know I’m begging him without words to put an end to my misery.

  Watching his lips close around my nipple is almost too much and I feel faint as he teases me. Grabbing his shoulders, my fingers dig into his flesh as I try to lift up into his mouth. My belly quivers and I rock my hips, begging for more, more, more.

  “Please,” I whine and he stops, looking at me like he’s enjoying my desperation. As I grind on him, hoping, no, praying to relieve some of the pressure pooling deep in my core, I wonder why he’s torturing me.

  The tingling in my slick pussy is becoming too much to bear and I wonder why he’s not in a hurry to end this misery. Reaching down, I fumble with his pants. The button comes free and I unzip them before shoving the offending material out of the way.

  When I feel skin on skin, my hips begin to buck faster. My back arches and I moan, excited, desperate, and so very ready for him. Can’t he see how much he’s torturing me? How much I want him? How much I need him?

  And I find him.

  Wrapping my fingers around the base of his cock, I feel shock roll through me like lightning. He’s larger than I expected. My fingers can’t meet around him and I suddenly know why he’s working me up so much.

  With the length of his cock between my plump, swollen pussy lips, I begin to rub on him. Blinding dots of pleasure swim before my eyes and I gasp in shock. This is better than I could have imagined. He’s so very hot, so swollen, and he’s throbbing in a way that leaves me breathless.

  He reaches down and takes himself away and I whimper that I’d been so close.

  “Protection, darling,” he whispers, and I can’t help but be more turned on that he’s being responsible. Still, the wait is killing me and he needs to know that I’m not feeling particularly patient.

  “Hurry please,” I whimper, and he smiles and kisses my lips. There’s a new warmth in his eyes, and I lift my head to watch him unroll the condom over his impressive cock. There’s a sensual feeling to it and I drop my head back, impatient. I swear he’s going slowly on purpose, and it’s driving me crazy.

  Then his lips meet mine again and I feel the hot tip of him
gently sliding between my dripping wet pussy lips. The sensation pulls a moan from me and I realize that this is the last second of my virginity.

  I let it go with a sense of good riddance and focus on the amazing man before me.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Dakin

  “Look at me,” I growl and her eyes open instantly. She’s so very responsive, it destroys me. Her arms wind around my shoulders and I hold her close. Her lips meet mine and we kiss. Our tongues dance as I gently press into her. My cock throbs, and I’ve never wanted someone as much as I want her right now.

  She breaks the kiss and gasps as I push further in. She’s so wet I’m sliding in easily, but I feel her body struggling as I force her to stretch around me. She’s incredible, perfect, and so fucking sexy I have to bite down on my tongue to keep from exploding in her right now.

  Jesus, it’s her first time and I’m going to have to fight with everything I am not to come before she does.

  “Look at me,” I tell her again. I need to see her response, I need to know she’s okay. And as her blue eyes meet mine, I feel like I’m lost in her. She’s perfection, personified. And as I sink half way into her, I feel her forcing herself to relax. Her eyes start to close and I know she’s drifting off on the pleasure of her body giving way to me, but I’m not ready for her to go yet.

  “Stay with me.” There’s nothing kind or sweet to my words. I’m demanding, commanding, absolutely in charge of everything at play here.

  And it’s intoxicating.

  There’s a buzz of excitement in her eyes as I press home. Buried to the hilt in her warmth, I wrestle with myself not to move too quickly, but to give her body a few minutes to accept me. As it is, I feel like her tightness is trying to push me out, to force me away.

  It’s sexy as hell.

  I pull back halfway and push home in her again. She gasps in shock and I can’t help but love the look on her face. And I decide to give up a little bit of my control to her. But just a little bit.