God. I flash back to him jacking off with my letters around him. And I wonder how many times I’ve done the same. “I mean…we haven’t really talked.”
“Okay, then, my little detail-oriented doll. Let’s talk. Ask me anything.”
I give him a hard stare, but deep down I want to ask him so many things. I want to know him like I’ve never wanted to know anyone else before. But I know this isn’t the right time for Some Big Conversation. So I search my mind for somewhere to break the ice.
“Okay.” I sit up straight, shifting my rear end up on one side, slipping my hand under my butt, then do the same on the other side while I think of my first question. “What is your secret talent?”
He snorts on a chuckle. “Secret talent?” Dutch runs a hand down his face, gripping his beard as he thinks, then smiles. “Not sure I have one.”
“Oh, come on. You smiled. You’re thinking of something.”
“Okay, no laughing.”
I bring my hand up and swipe it in an X over my chest. “Cross my heart.”
He grunts and clears his throat. “I can recite any tongue twister without making a mistake.”
“Oh, come on,” I sneer. “That’s not possible.”
“Sure, it is. Give me one, I’ll do it.”
I furrow my brow while I think. “The only one I can think of is the Peter Piper Picked a Peck of Pickled Peppers.”
Dutch sniffs, then recites the entire tongue twister at breakneck speed not missing or slurring a word. “That’s an easy one.”
“Okay then, Mr. Smartypants, what’s a hard one?”
He sucks a breath through his teeth then reaches down, adjusting his balls with a smile.
“Really?” I smirk.
“Sorry,” he says in a not-sorry-at-all kind of way. “Just, you know, making some space.”
God. “Go on then. Wow me. Prove you’ve got the fastest tongue this side of the Mississippi.”
“The one that is considered the hardest in English is The six sick sheik’s sixth sheep’s sick.”
“Hold on. The six sheik’s sicks sitxx…” I try the first few words, but I start to laugh, knowing I’ve already screwed it up. “Okay then, go, let’s hear it again. Faster this time.”
I listen as he enunciates each word flawlessly, pulling my hand from under my butt and pressing the backs of my fingers over my lips to stifle my laughter. But honestly? It’s incredibly impressive.
“You said you wouldn’t laugh,” he says, raising his eyebrows. Scolding me almost.
“It’s just,” I trail off, lowering my eyes, then lifting them to meet his gaze again. “Well, it sort of explains things.”
“Oh, does it now?” He leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees, looking doubly cocky now. “Explains what exactly?” His mouth is slightly open, his full lips taunting me.
“How you have such a talented, um, tongue. You keep it in good shape. Tongue twisters are like some hardcore circuit training for your mouth.”
He nods as my heart pumps harder, and I curl my fingers into fists in my lap, remembering the intense pleasure his tongue gave me earlier today. A snapping flame of desire shivers through me, from my clit and down through the bones of my thighs.
He reaches across the small space between us, his warm hands tugging me forward, centering me on his lap facing him.
We stare at each other for a long moment. The bar noise fills the space but it seems so far away. He slowly drags his fingers down his sideburns. And just looks at me. Looks at me like nobody has ever looked at me. Like I am his. And he is mine. And this is how it’s going to go.
He spreads his knees wide, doing that sexy man-spread, then leans forward, and drags me across the floor on the milk crate where I’m sitting until I’m right up against him.
“I think my tongue needs another workout and you’re the only piece of gym equipment I’m ever going to need baby.”
I can’t stand it anymore. I don’t know if I kiss him first or he kisses me but finally, we’re kissing. Our mouths come together as wetness seeps from my overheated sex. His lips are soft against mine as I open for his tongue, moaning as I kiss him back.
His hands run up my back as mine sweep around his hard shoulders. He pulls me against him, his hard length pressing into me, making me dizzy and hot.
To hell with waiting for midnight.
I don’t care that we are locked in a dingy closet in the back of a bar.
Wherever I am with Dutch, it just feels right.
“I want you.” He draws back, growling the words into my ear as he rocks us together, a low rumble coming from his chest. “I’m going to practice every tongue twister I know on that wet little pink doll pussy of yours. Then, when you’re good and ready, my cock’s taking what’s mine.”
CHAPTER 7
Dutch
Our tongues wind together. The brutal ache in my center coils in tight desperation. I’ve never been so hard in all my goddamned life.
I wrap my arms around her, feeling the buzz of electricity in the small space between us.
Her heart pounds against my chest as I savor the delicious flavor of her mouth, reminding me of how her lips felt earlier today as they worked my dick. She’s got me by the balls. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Our lips crush together. She shifts her hips, dry humping against me as her soft tits rub on my chest. Breathy little moans seep from her mouth as she works herself shamelessly up and down, pushing me dangerously close to spilling in my pants. Not a fucking chance I’m going to let that happen.
As good as it all feels, there’s way too much fabric separating us right now. I have to feel her skin against mine. It’s been an obsession since her first letter. And now it’s so fucking close.
My pre-cum soaks my boxers as her own damp heat soaks through her panties. I hang onto my last shred of control. I pull away, looking into her lust-filled green eyes. Christ, I have needed this. Her. Us. I want to worship at the altar between her legs for the rest of my life.
“You’re fucking drenching me. That pink dream is so fucking hot it’s giving my cock a nice steam bath.”
I moan, both from the desire I see in her eyes but also from the pain of not being inside her. I’ve never wanted someone as much as I want Daphne. This is what it means for something to hurt so good.
She does that little nibble on her lip thing before leaning down and whispering in my ear as though someone else could hear.
“No panties. No bra… But you probably figured out the no bra already from my little wet dress contest, courtesy of the spilled beer.”
“You did that for me, didn’t you? Teasing me at dinner. I could barely keep my eyes off your tits. I’m surprised I didn’t bend you over the table, chicken and mashed potatoes flying everywhere as I sank every inch I have into you right there.”
The need to get a baby inside her is unlike any urge I’ve had before. It’s burning inside me. Beating like a drum in my balls. Clenching my chest and pounding in my temples.
Breed her.
Breed her.
Raw.
Bareback.
Like you told her.