Tart (The Fluffy Cupcake Book 2)

by Katie Mettner

  Amber had been sleeping for a few hours, but I couldn’t stop staring at her. I was memorizing every detail of her. Maybe it was knowing that eventually, she would leave my bed, and my house, and we’d live separate lives again. Maybe it was knowing I was in love with her and was desperate to spend as much time with her as I could before she left me. I wasn’t sure why, but while she slept, I didn’t. I mapped those scars on her leg down to the very last one, noting the coloring and size, so I would notice if something changed or the infection came back.

  She shifted toward me to her right side, and her shirt bunched up in her sleep. I snuck my hand over to pull it down, but my hand froze halfway, and my breath caught in my chest. She wasn’t kidding. The entire left side of her chest was mangled. I didn’t see it the other night because my head was between her legs, but I saw it very clearly tonight.

  “It’s a skin graft,” she said sleepily, her open eyes taking me by surprise.

  I’d been focused on her side and didn’t realize she was awake. “You weren’t kidding about the scars.”

  She tried to tug the shirt down, but I wouldn’t let her. “Stop. You don’t have to hide it from me.”

  Her hand fell to the bed and her eyes, too. “No, I wasn’t kidding. I kept it hidden the other night,” she said, clearing her throat.

  “What caused it?”

  “The doctors aren’t sure. It could have been sliding down the bark of a tree or some other debris that just ripped the skin away. All of my ribs were broken, and they had to wire them back together. The skin was too damaged after surgery to even try to repair it, so they used a skin graft. It was one of the only parts that healed decently well. My ribs don’t bother me as far as pain goes, and as long as I keep the skin graft covered from the sun, it’s fine.” She pointed at her right thigh. “They took the skin from that leg, but thankfully, you don’t notice the slight scar it left.

  I pushed her shirt out of the way, exposing the bottom of her breast where the scarred flesh met pink, unscarred skin. “I’m so sorry, Amber. I didn’t mean to downplay what you went through when we were on the lake yesterday. I truly didn’t understand.”

  She shook her head with her lip captured between her teeth. “It’s okay. You didn’t know it was like this because I didn’t show you. I wanted you to keep thinking I was beautiful. I knew if the leg didn’t turn you off, this would.”

  My chin hit my chest, and I shook my head. “No, this doesn’t turn me off, sweetart. It’s horrifying to think about what did it or how much it had to have hurt, but that skin is still your skin. I don’t think it’s any different than the skin on your legs or belly, which by the way, is torturing me right now.”

  “You’re not a leg man, and you aren’t a boob man, so you’re a belly man?”

  I licked my lips and leaned in, pressing a kiss to her navel, dipping my tongue in until I felt her shiver. “You’ve discovered my secret. I’m a belly button man.”

  She grasped my hair, sliding her fingers through it to find purchase for her need. “I like your secret.”

  “And I like your soft, trim belly that leads down to that soft mound of curls I want to bury my nose in again,” I promised, blowing across her belly until goosebumps rose across her skin. “But you haven’t been sleeping very long, and you need more rest.”

  I tugged her shirt down and rested my hand on her belly, cuddling her into me and kissing her forehead. My dick was hard and pulsing against her hip, and she reached down, stroking it with a finger on each side, making me want to come with her name on my lips.

  “You haven’t slept at all, have you?” she asked, placing a kiss along the ridge of my collarbone.

  I sucked in air while I warred to keep a cool head. Between her kisses and her tender stroking, I wanted to forget about everything else and just make love to this gorgeous woman in my arms. “N—no,” I said, clearing my throat. “I was holding you and memorizing every little thing about you. I’m building you in my mind little by little because I never want to forget how beautiful you are, and how much you’ve changed my life.” I thrust against her hand and moaned, her soft laughter filling the darkness of the room.

  “If that wasn’t so sweet, I might think you were a creeper, Mr. Halla.”

  “Not a creeper. Just saving up for when you disappear from my life, and I don’t have you anymore. I will always want you, my little tart, always.”

  My lips came down on hers, and I kissed her until I knew she wanted me just as much as I wanted her. She arched under me, wanting me to move over her and frustrated by my refusal. I pinned her arms above her head and kissed her with enough tongue to show her who was boss, finally backing off when my chest started burning.

  “I do believe you are kind of hot for teacher,” I said, throwing her words back at her. “Only I think it’s more like extremely hot for teacher.”

  “Even hotter for daddy,” she whispered into my ear, taking a lick at the last second.

  I grunted, thrusting against her leg without any self-control. “You are a little tease, aren’t you? I might have to spank you if you keep up that kind of talk.”

  “But we don’t have a yardstick,” she said coyly, her eyes traveling to my boxers, which were tented with a footlong. “I suppose that would do, though.”

  I growled before my lips attacked hers again, my hands still holding her wrists to the bed. I thrust my tongue inside her mouth the same way I wanted to thrust inside her heat, and she shivered with anticipation. She was incredible in immeasurable ways, and I wasn’t going to last much longer without having her. I could tell myself all I wanted that I could marry her and then walk away, but the second I sank inside her, that would be it. I would never fuck another woman. I hadn’t even made love to her yet, and I already knew that much. She was going to bring me to my knees, but as long as I healed her with my love, I didn’t even care.

  “If you throw my tongue in the mix, it will more than do, little girl,” I promised, rubbing my still clothed hardness against her hip. “Do we need a repeat performance from earlier to refresh your memory?”

  She nodded her head coyly. “Yes, Mr. Halla. I can’t remember if I come before or after you do.”

  I growled and grasped the hem of her shirt, my brow arced toward the sky. “I would prefer coming together, but first, I’m going to take this shirt off and quench my curiosity.”

  “What’s that?” she asked, leaving her arms above her head while she waited for me to strip off the shirt.

  “If your breasts are as small as you claim they are.”

  Slowly, I pulled the shirt up to reveal the sweetest nuggets I’d ever had the pleasure to see. “Mmmm, these look delicious,” I said on a sigh, stripping the shirt off the rest of the way.”

  Her brow went up. “I told you they were pathetic little eggs.”

  “On the contrary, they’re like that perfect bite-sized tart from the bakery. Sweet, savory, and a perfect mouthful.” My finger trailed her dark nipple that beaded instantly at my touch. “This nipple is like a homing beacon for my lips,” I hissed, my head lowering so I could grasp it in my teeth. “You’re so fucking incredible, and you don’t even know it.” My words were cut off when I caught the tender flesh between my lips, my tongue stroking it lovingly while she moaned under me. My other hand found her right breast and cupped it, my moan filling the room and vibrating against the flesh in my mouth. That ripped another low moan from her, the sound vibrating in her chest and through my soul. I let her nipple go with a pop and blew a fissure of air across it until she was covered in goosebumps. I cupped both in my hands and grabbed her hot, needy gaze with mine. “Do you remember what I said about these?”

  “That they would be the perfect handful,” she squeaked, her breath heavy in her chest.

  “And who was right?”

  “You were, teacher,” she moaned.

  My lips tortured her right breast the same way they did the left, while my thumb stroked her belly, moving dangerously close to her curl
s each time it did. I desperately wanted to see if she was as wet as I wanted her to be, but I also wanted this to last forever, so I forced myself to hold back and wait.

  She plunged her fingers into my hair and grasped it, pulling me from her breast to her lips. Her tongue took possession of my mouth then, and she pressed her belly into my dick, rubbing so seductively I could have come without any further encouragement. I refused to, though. I had plans for this woman. She had things to learn.

  I ended the kiss and hung over her, her eyes all pupil and her chest heaving from the kiss. “Are you wet for me, tart?” I asked, hooking my thumbs in the waistband of her shorts. “Tell me the truth. I’m going to find out anyway.”

  “Yes,” she hissed, “so wet.”

  The shorts were gone, and I eyed her tiny mound of flesh and curls, my tongue coming out to lick my lips at the sight of her. “Incredible,” I whispered, rubbing my dick with my hand.

  She sat up and grasped the bottom of my shirt. “It would be more incredible if you wore fewer clothes.”

  I stilled her hands and pushed her back to the bed gently. “Don’t be so impatient. I decide when my clothes come off.”

  Her brow went up again. “I never expected so much domination out of you, Mr. Halla.”

  “When it comes to how I make love to a woman, there’s a right way and a wrong way,” I said, going back to ogling her beautiful center. “You’re glistening,” I said on a breath, parting her gently with my thumb to peek at her center. I stroked my thumb across her, barely touching her, but the slickness covered my skin immediately.

  “Oh, you are learning your lessons well,” I hissed, bringing my thumb to my lips and suckling away the dew. I went back for more and then rubbed her wetness across the tip of my dick, the action nothing but painful pleasure. My pain didn’t matter, though. The look on her face was worth all of the torture I was experiencing. There was so much anticipation in her eyes that she was drowning in it. She was dripping with desire for me now, and she allowed my tongue the pleasure of lapping up some of her heat.

  Her hips came off the bed, and that was when I noticed how prominent the left one was compared to the right. I lowered them gently, stroking the left hip bone with tenderness from where it jutted from her pelvis. My lips fell to kiss the ridge of the bone as her breath hitched. I worked my way down to kiss each scar on her leg until I had covered her knee with kisses. When I glanced up, she was still holding her breath as tears ran down her cheeks.

  “Breathe, baby,” I whispered, rubbing her chest tenderly. “You are beautiful. I’m in awe of your strength when I see what you hide from the world every day.”

  Air filled her lungs then and I wiped away her tears patiently. She shook her head until finally, she could speak. “I’m ashamed and embarrassed by my body. How do you find it so desirable?”

  “I find you desirable because you are desirable,” I said, stripping my shirt off and throwing it to the floor by the bed. “I never want to hear you say you’re ashamed or embarrassed by your body again, do you hear me?” Her head nodded, but I knew she was doing nothing more than agreeing for the sake of it. I slid my dick along the inside of her right leg. “This is the only tool you’ll use to measure how fucking desirable you are from this point forward. Do you understand?” She didn’t do anything but widen her eyes. “Do you understand, tart?”

  “I understand, Mr. Halla,” she said, her voice low and needy while I continued to rub my tip closer to her center. It was taking all the self-control I had not to sink inside her and end my pain, but I refused to rush the first time I made love to this woman.

  “I think you should get a reward then, right?” Her head nodded greedily, and I stood, hooking my fingers in my boxers and letting them fall to the floor slowly. My dick strained into the night air, hard and hot, a drop of dew balanced perfectly at the tip just waiting for absolution. I crawled back onto the bed and straddled her, the tart knowing exactly what to do when she stole that drop of dew with her tongue and then swirled it around the tip, dragging a moan from my lips. I rose up on my knees when she sucked me in, my resolve to make this last weakening the longer she sucked, licked, and blew on me. When she cupped my balls and massaged gently, I moaned so loud I was sure the neighbors could hear me. Then I remembered I was fucking the neighbor, and she wouldn’t care.

  I grasped her chin and held her still. “Enough. I can’t take much more,” I groaned, extracting myself from between the pair of lips I loved, knowing I would soon be cradled by the pair that would take me to heaven.

  Her hands came up to run across my abs and chest, tangling in the hair there while I teased her tiny buds with my thumbs, flicking across them until they were tight and pert. “Are you going to fuck me, Mr. Halla?” Her voice was nothing but dirty, and I growled low in my throat.

  “I’m going to have to. You’ve been a naughty girl, Mrs. Halla. Detention is going to be required,” I hissed, sliding down her body carefully until I sat on the bed between her knees again. “Look at the mess you’ve made of yourself,” I said, my voice playful. “Now, I’m going to have to clean it up.” My thumb found its way inside her and pressed down gently, holding her open for my tongue to sweep in and taste her sweetness. My tongue thrust in and out rhythmically to the sound of her moans, backing off when her thighs started to shake and going back in when they stopped.

  “I fucking love detention,” she cried, her hips pressing her center into my face, burying my nose inside her again, where I sucked wickedly. She grasped my head and clamped her thighs to my ears, forcing me to back off instantly. She noticed, sighing with frustration when I sat up and held her hips. “Are you sure you want this?” I asked, patiently waiting for her answer, but there was no hesitation in her nod.

  “I’ve never wanted a man the way I want you, Bishop,” she said, her voice softening with desire.

  “That’s because no man has ever accepted you for who you are, all of you,” I said. Her nod was automatic like she didn’t even have to think about if that statement was true. “I accept all of you, sweetart,” I promised. “You were created and shaped just for me. You are mine now. I don’t care what you say or how many times you try to push me away, that will always remain the truth. Do you understand?” Her eyes widened, but she said nothing. I fell across her and grasped her chin, kissing her hard and heavy, letting her taste herself on my tongue until we couldn’t breathe through the fog of desire in our chests. “Do you understand?” I asked again, panting hard with my dick dangerously close to her opening. All she had to do was lift her hips, and she’d join us, so I moved back and waited for her to answer me. I stroked her sweet nub while I did it, just to sweeten the pot for her.

  “I under—understand,” she moaned.

  “There will be a question on the test about that,” I reminded her, sliding my thumb inside her. “Remember the answer.”

  “Yes, Mr. Halla,” she said obediently.

  I pulled the drawer open next to my bed for a condom, only to be greeted with emptiness. “Fuck,” I groaned, my dick bobbing against her leg. “And not the good kind.”

  “What?” she asked, sitting up to check the drawer.

  “I hadn’t bought condoms in so long that I had to throw the old ones away. I never bought more. I guess we’ll have to save that part of the test for another night.”

  “Like hell,” she moaned, tossing her head side-to-side. “I’ve been on the pill for a decade. You don’t have to worry about condoms anymore. Fuck me, Halla, now,” she ordered, lifting her hips again, begging me to love her.

  I stroked her engorged lips while I thought about it. I could trust her. I knew that. Part of me wanted to plunge inside her, but part of me was too scared of making another mistake in my life. “I’ve never had sex without a condom, Amber.”

  “Athena,” she whispered, but I shook my head.

  “I wore a condom that night. Do you see my point?”

  She grasped my hand and pulled me down to her lips, and her hand
came up to stroke my cheek while she kissed me. “I can promise you that we are safe. The only way to fuck this up is not to fuck me.”

  I growled, attacking her lips again until they were red and swollen. I rested next to her and grasped her hips. “Let me do the work. I’m going to rest your left leg over my hip.”

  Her head nodded, and I positioned her in such a way I knew she’d be comfortable when I entered her. “I’ve never had sex without a condom. I don’t know how long this will last,” I whispered, stroking her breast in the low light of the moon. I grasped my dick and rubbed it across her wetness, wetting myself with her, so she would be comfortable. “It’s now or nothing, tart. Do you still want me to fuck you?”

  She growled and lowered her hips until she’d swallowed me whole and in one smooth motion. “Fuck, tart,” I moaned, thrusting up to bury myself as deeply as I could. “Oh, my God. I’ve never felt this way before.”

  “Me either,” she cried, squeezing me with her legs when I tried to pull out. “Don’t,” she begged. “I need to come.”

  I grasped her hips and held them still. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to come,” she cried, clamping down even harder around me.

  I stilled and cupped her cheek, my gaze holding hers. “That’s not how this works, baby girl.”