by Wyatt, Dani
“Okay, but so we’re here now. And you say ‘no’?” She looks so fragile, a hint of rejection in her eyes and I hate it. I need to make her understand.
“You’re worth the wait. It’s been three years, but I want it right. Not some rushed deal in the corner while you’re scared.”
She clears her throat and there’s a buzz, then a few clicks, and the power comes back on, the lamp lighting up her face, and she’s more beautiful than ever.
“Maybe I’m not scared anymore.” She gives me this playful grin and it takes all my fucking willpower not to turn her over and fuck her like I’ve dreamed a thousand times.
I try to hold back my smile, so fucking happy she might just want this the way I do, but I want to be sure and I don’t want her to have any regrets. No buyer’s remorse the next day.
“Tell you what.” I look up at the bed. “The couch is fucking uncomfortable. I don’t fit, my legs hang off the end.” I tread softly. “Let’s say we share the bed tonight.”
“So, you’ll sleep with me?” She squints an eye then finishes. “But you won’t, sleep, sleep with me?” She twists her lips to the side.
“Yeah. Something like that.” I stand up, taking her hand and pulling her around to the side of the bed, the covers already pulled down from her entrance and exit, and I slip in on my side, dragging her in with me.
She follows, she smells so fucking good I think I might die right here, and I can see her nipples pushing out on the thin t-shirt as she slides down, facing me. Her tiny hands press together like she’s praying, and she stuffs them between her cheek and the pillow, looking like an angel.
We lay there, looking at each other for a long moment, before her lips tighten, then a smile blooms and she raises an eyebrow.
“What?” I trace my fingertips down her nose. Something I’ve wanted to do for three years and it’s better than any fantasy.
“Maybe, if I’m a really good girl...” The words and the sparkle in her eyes are making it nearly impossible to maintain control. “You’ll give me a little good night kiss.”
Chapter Eight
Miller
IT’S A DAMN GOOD THING we’re laying down.
When she half-ass asked for the goodnight kiss, I creamed my boxers, letting out this tortured noise which I tried to hide by smashing my lips onto hers.
As I capture her mouth with mine, Jesus, her taste is beyond perfection. I’ve imagined this moment so many times, but now that it’s here? No amount of imagination could come close.
It’s like being blind, believing you understand what a rainbow looks like, then suddenly having the miracle of sight and seeing it for yourself.
Her sweet, full lips open and if we weren’t in bed, I’d be on the ground, because it feels like I’m close to passing out.
And she’s making these little sounds.
Fuck. Her sounds.
They’re not a moan, not a yelp, not like anything I’ve heard before, but now that I’m hearing them, I’m already addicted.
Our tongues rub against each other. Warm and wet. And what I wouldn’t give to have my tongue and my cock discovering all the other warm wet places on her body. But, I want this slow. I want it right.
For her.
Because, truth is, for me, anything she does—or lets me do—is right. I don’t know what she could ever do that would be wrong. If she even breathes in my direction, I want to worship her.
My dick reminds me with an ache where he belongs, as she arches into me, her hands moving over my shoulders as I slip mine around her back, one between the mattress and her waist, the other to the back of her neck, holding her steady.
I’m kissing the love of my life. I’ve known it for so long, and for whatever reason, I couldn’t make anything happen. Now, I never want to stop kissing her.
One of her hands drifts down my back. When it gets to the elastic of my boxers, her fingertips trail along the edge making me crazy.
When she twists her fingertip and starts to push under the fabric, grinding her hips forward, I pull back, listening to her gasp, but I am resolute.
“Kissing. We are kissing and sleeping tonight.”
“But...” Her eyes search mine. “We’re right here.” She circles her hips against my pulsing cock. “I think one of your brains is saying a definite yes.”
“You’ll have to trust me. I know you barely know me, but I know you. Tonight, we sleep. I’ve dreamed of sleeping with you for three years, Kat.”
I give her one more deep kiss as she sighs and I hear a little annoyance, but I stay firm in my decision, knowing it’s right for us both.
“What else have you dreamed of?” She teases as I reach behind me and flick off the lamp.
I bring my lips to her ear, my hands on her body, and flip her over on her side as she gasps.
“Spooning. I’ve dreamed of spooning with you...”
As I tug her against me, her soft body trembles with a giggle and I think this is the happiest moment of my life.
So far.
Katarina
THERE’S A WICKED FLUTTER down deep as I remember the first sight of Miller’s swollen cock as he crouched down, comforting me after my thunderstorm panic attack.
The sound of a chainsaw buzzes in the cool morning and I stand at the window still wearing only his shirt, sipping the hot coffee he had waiting for me when I woke up.
He’s shirtless, down on the dirt drive, the chainsaw throwing scraps of wood up into the air and all around Miller. The summer sun isn’t at its peak, but I can see the way his body shines with sweat and the wood flutters in the air and sticks to his torso.
He kissed me in a way I thought was only something in books and movies. It only amped up what I wanted from him but also, his denying me has only made me want him more.
I would have given myself to him last night, I made that clear. The waiting has made me think about it all and maybe that was what he wanted.
I don’t just want to have sex with him.
I need it. I want him to pull my hair, to tell me what to do. I want to be put on my knees, held down, taken, torn, used and claimed.
I’ve thought about it. I was ashamed when the thoughts first came clear, thinking it was weak.
The feminists would heckle me hard.
But, no. It’s what I want. What I need. So, the choice is mine and if I want it how I want it, my power is still solidly with me no matter what someone else might think.
When I saw his erection, all I could think was, I don’t think they make condoms that big.
I set down the coffee, my hands drifting to the front of the t-shirt and I run them up and down as I watch him move. When I run my hands over my nipples, darts of pleasure seek out parts of me deep down in places I know are not activated just by lust.
This is more, and as much as I wanted him last night, he was right. This is better.
I play with Miss Muffet, who seems calm and happy once again. I find some string and wear her out as the sound of the chainsaw quiets, and she curls up in a chair, goes lights out and starts purring like she’s got her own tiny chainsaw running.
My phone buzzes, and I move across the room, picking it up from where I discarded it along with my clothes. It’s my dad, and I can’t help the grin that spreads over my face as I answer, imagining telling him where I spent last now...and how I spent it.
“Hey, honey, you’re not at home,” he says, and I roll my eyes.
“No, Dad, sometimes I’m not there. I do have a life.”
He chuckles. “No need to get sarcastic. I know you’re not working today so thought we’d spend the morning together...while my mechanics look over that rusty old dinghy you call a car.”
“Always an ulterior motive, huh?” I laugh.
He’s been telling me I need a new car for the past six months. And I know, if I’d let him, he’d give me a brand-new Mercedes or BMW off the car lot. But I’m stubborn. I’m making my own way in the world and I won’t let him grind me down. My
old Ford Fiesta might not be much to look at, but it hasn’t let me down yet.
“I just worry about you driving around in that thing. These new cars have a lot of safety features that I think—”
“I’m stopping you right there, Dad. When I can afford a new car, I’ll get one. But that’s when I can afford it.”
He sighs. “Okay, I give in. But if you change your mind...”
“If I change my mind, you’ll be the first person I call.”
“So, am I going to see you this morning?”
I look out at Miller to see him lift a log the size of his head like it’s made of gingerbread, hefting it and walking towards a shed near the house. “I’m kind of busy actually. How about tomorrow?”
“Sure...I have a meeting with Colin first thing. Might finally force Miller Graham into backing down.” He laughs, and I bite my tongue. “But the afternoon is looking good. If Colin has found a loophole I can’t think of anything I’ll want to do except celebrate with my favorite daughter.”
“Only daughter,” I say, deadpan, the way I always do when he says that. The idea of him and Miller going at each other yet again doesn’t exactly set my heart on fire.
Dad laughs and then sighs. “Okay, I can tell you’re busy, so I won’t keep you. See you tomorrow, baby.”
We sign off and I clean up the breakfast dishes. Both Miller and I ate cereal, which I was pleased to find out he appreciates as well. He had my favorite, which was very odd, Frosted Flake Lucky Charms. They aren’t easy to find, but he had three boxes, and we were both sugar buzzing a half-hour later.
I walk back to the window to see him coming up the steps to the cabin and my heart does this new little dance in my chest.
He comes through the door and I never noticed before, but he has to duck a little to get through. His dark hair and beard are sprinkled with the tiny wood chips that also ornament his exposed skin.
“Hi.” He comes in, taking my face in his hand and planting a hard kiss on my lips, like he’s done that a thousand times before when he comes into the house. “You doing okay in here?” He glances around. “Where’s our little one?”
His words have me spinning. Our little one.
“She’s having a nap.” I look over to see Miss Muffet now on her back, legs spread wide, living her best life.
“How it should be.” He smiles this crooked, mountain man smile, as he swipes the backs of his fingers down my cheek.
He smells like the outdoors, the gas from the chainsaw and a little sweat and the combination is surprisingly arousing.
His eyes travel up and down as he moves around me. I’m still sporting his t-shirt, without much underneath.
On a sniff, he bites into his lip then gives me another quick kiss. “I’m going to shower.” He walks away, leaving me feeling a little lost, unsure what I wanted or thought was going to happen, but disappointed nonetheless.
My mom wasn’t perfect, for sure. But she had one sure talent and that’s getting men to fall at her feet, including my father.
And in that moment, something she used to say comes back to me...
Sometimes, a girl needs to put a little honey on the spoon.
Chapter Nine
Katarina
A HALF HOUR LATER, I hear the shower finally quiet and my pulse is rushing in my ears like whitewater rapids.
This is it. I’ve never considered seducing a man before. Especially without the proper...tools, shall we say.
I’m nothing if not resourceful.
I listen as he moves around down the hall in the bedroom. A dresser draw opening and closing.
The squeaking of a hinge.
I look down, wondering if I’ve completely lost my mind.
One of my favorite TV shows is Project Runway. I love the creativity of the challenges, especially the unconventional material challenges.
While Miller was in the shower, I had my own little unconventional challenge.
Under his sink, I found shiny black trash bags. Then, a short hunt later, I found scissors. A few snips and knots later, I’m standing here wearing what I hope looks like a very unconventional, black latex, fuck me frock.
I hope you’re right, Mom.
Steadying my breath, I push my butt into the back of the sofa, cocking one hip out, and I wait for Miller to emerge from the hallway.
The voice in my head spins and doubts start to intrude. How stupid is this?
He left this morning to go outside and cut the tree up, so you can leave girl.
If he wanted to fuck you, he would have done it already.
Oh my God, what am I doing?
I’m stuck. My real clothes are in the bedroom but my purse is on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. I could bolt.
Wearing a trash bag?
A whimper is choking me as Miller fills the end of the hallway fully clothed and the world stops spinning as I watch his face.
He stops. Jaw slack.
Silence.
For. An. Eternity.
“Uh, hi?” I try screwing up my face and wishing I could disappear into the floor.
I try to read the look on his face. Is it shock? Disgust? I won the lottery?
“Say something.” I manage, my cheeks hot. Regret winding its way up my legs and clutching around my heart.
“Uhh...” It’s not a word, more a sound, and my embarrassment starts to spin into anger.
“Now is not the time for the mountain man of few words.” I spit out and the last words crack as my eyes blur.
That seems to release him from whatever hypnotic trance he was in and before I can say anything else, he lunges forward, a tortured sound coming from him, and his hand is on the back of my neck.
Heat is rising through me. I fight through the momentary fear as my breath catches and my blood rushes through my veins, hot and wild.
“You’re not playing fair.” His eyes are on mine, searching for something I hope he finds.
“It’s better than not playing at all.” I counter, watching him bite into his bottom lip, his dark beard moving, and my heart jumps.
“You have no idea what I want from you.” He growls, our mouths inches apart.
“I want to know.” I answer, the danger in his words only turning my wet pussy wetter and my hard nipples harder.
“Fuck.” He releases me, stomping away and out the front door and knives pierce my heart.
I calculate how to get to the bedroom, rip this stupid black plastic from my body and get out of here without having to have any contact with Miller. Before I can plan my escape, he thunders back into the small living room holding a bouquet of wildflowers in front of him as large as his torso.
He sets them down on the kitchen table to my right. There’s anger or rage in his eyes, but he’s back next to me kissing me before I can yelp.
I’m frozen, all my conflicting emotions toiling inside of me, trying to make sense of my arousal and this confusing man who makes me feel beautiful, then so unsure, then beautiful again.
He smells like spice and pine and manliness, whatever that smells like. His lips are hard on mine, tongue seeking between my lips and his hands run down my back making the plastic crinkle and I want him to just take me.
Hard.
Rough.
I’ve seen him throw tree trunks twenty feet tall. I’ve seen him throw an ax from fifty paces and split a piece of wood right down the middle.
I want that. I want to be thrown and split.
We gasp as he breaks the kiss, my hands shaking at my sides, his eyes wild, hands now tangled in my hair, pulling my head back, so my eyes are pinned on him towering over me.
“What’s wrong?” I finally choke out, so confused.
“I wanted to do this right. I wanted it perfect. You deserve perfect.”
“It is perfect.”
He shakes his head looking down, raw lust twisting his features.
The world spins as his hands swoop under my ass, pulling me upward as he backs up, ramming us into t
he wall behind as his grip on my ass digs in. His mouth is on mine as I grab onto his shoulders, his hips thrusting up into my bare pussy, and he snarls like an animal into our wild kiss.
He kisses and dry humps me until the tension low in my belly passes the point of no return.
Then he releases our kiss, his hips unrelenting as I teeter on the edge.
“I’ve fucking waited for this for so long.” He snarls, watching my face, pushing me harder against the wall with his body. The friction right there, so close...
“God, Miller...” I’m begging.
“Say my name again.” He growls, the words ragged and low as his grip tightens on my rear end.
“Miller.” I whimper as he spreads me farther, grinding and twisting his erection again me. His eyes flashing with desire.
“I need you, my kitten. I’ve needed you for so long.”
I nod, holding onto him as his mouth comes to my neck and his breath is hot, his tongue swiping up to my ear.
“My cock is going to tear into that pussy of yours until all you know is my name, so I hope you’re ready. There’s no turning back...”
I explode as his teeth meet my flesh, and everything turns white.
Chapter Ten
Miller
IT’S NEVER HURT LIKE this to breathe.
I’ve been drowning, going down, my lungs burning, dragging breath into them.
Her legs are still around my back as her orgasm continues to shake her body, and I walk us to the bedroom, the sounds of her pleasure still ringing in my ears. The painful ache in my cock only more desperate with her wet release seeping through the fabric of my jeans.
Her face is flushed, lips parted, eyes half open as I push through the bedroom door. Her breath comes in ragged bursts, and I feel like a storm ready to unleash on her. I need this to be perfect.
I think that’s why I waited so fucking long.
Too fucking long.
I could never figure out how to make it perfect for her.
So, she will never leave.
So, she will be addicted to me. Addicted to everything. Addicted to my cock.