“That damned picture!”
I remember the portrait Mrs. Darling sent of David’s pregnant cousin and her husband. And the incredulity and outrage on David’s face when I helped the delivery crew hang it in his room, right opposite the bed so he would have to see it every time he goes to sleep. I start laughing.
He cocks an eyebrow. “Funny, is it?”
“I honestly don’t know why your mother sent it, because it isn’t going to inspire you to get married or give her a grandbaby.”
“Because she’s cra—single-minded.” His gaze turns heavenward. “She can’t imagine anybody not going along with her ideas.”
Even though he caught himself, I know he was about to call his mother “crazy.” But instead of derision, there’s a warm, helpless affection in his voice that just feels like another word for love. It’s sweet, a glimpse
of the kind of family life I wish I could have at some point—full of love and warmth no matter what.
He lowers me in front of my bedroom door. “Open the door. Let me in,” he says, his lips on my forehead, the tip of my nose, then my chin.
He’s giving control to me—a chance to turn back.
But I don’t want to stop. I shift my head slightly so that our lips are fused, then fumble with the doorknob behind my back until it opens. We spill into the room.
The room is dark, but light from the windows casts pale yellow illumination in elongated shapes. We make a half-circle until he’s caging me against the opened door and deepens the kiss. His hands skim over my body, and they are burning hot through my dress. Shivers run through me, and oh my God. I’m so hot that sweat’s misting over me, but I’m also so wet that it’s almost embarrassing. I always assumed the copious amount of wetness in porn videos I watched before was fake, like soap-opera tears except slipperier. But I assumed wrong. It is actually possible to be that wet.
He cups my breasts, and I cry out, our kiss muffling the sound. My heart is hammering; my mind is empty of everything but a need for him. The nearly uncontrollable restlessness is making me want to scream and tear away his clothes. But a tiny spark of sanity pulls me back. Do I really want to be out of control, driven by nothing but searing-hot instinct?
A hiss of zipper coming undone, and my dress glides down my body, falling into a heap around my feet. The cool air chills my skin, the fine hair on my body standing. I’m in nothing but my thong and sandals. No bra because the dress had it built in.
Suddenly, I feel incredibly vulnerable. Not just physically, but emotionally. David’s eyes are drinking my body in from top to bottom, but I don’t want to him to see too deeply. I’m afraid what he might find…and that he might be disappointed because I serve no real use to him. Even Warren, who I thought had genuine feelings for me, only wanted me for how I could contribute to his career.
The thing is: David doesn’t need me. At all. There’s nothing I can do for him.
“You’re gorgeous,” David whispers reverently before I can raise my arms to cover myself.
I swallow hard, shaky and relieved he likes my body. Maybe if he’s naked too, I’ll feel less helpless. “Can you, um, take off your clothes?” That comes out squeakier than I was hoping for.
“You bet.” He smiles, his dark eyes hot and beautiful.
His gaze is on mine, and I can’t look away. He toes off his shoes, pulls off his socks, unbuttons his shirt and disposes of his slacks and underwear in a few graceful, economical moves. Unlike me, he stands fully nude. His body is gorgeous—all those lean, powerful lines, the big, strong muscles.
But my eyes still drop. His cock is hard and thick, the head almost touching his flat belly. Dark veins run along the shaft, and the tip is glistening. I probably shouldn’t stare, but I can’t help it. It’s so much more fascinating than I ever imagined.
“Is it?” David looks down. “Um…I guess. I’ve kind of always had it.”
“Oh shit. Did I say that out loud?”
“Yep.”
I bury my flaming face in my hands.
He merely laughs, then takes my wrists gently and pulls my hands away. “Come on, Erin. Don’t be embarrassed about it. We all want what we don’t have. I mean, if I had your body, I’d never leave my bed.”
I laugh, the humor pushing away the tension in my body, and find myself relaxing bit by bit.
“I’ll even let you touch it,” he offers.
“Do I need to let you touch mine in return?” I say, surprising myself. I never thought I’d joke and tease during sex. In my experience, sex is just sort of…quiet and unmemorable. Mildly pleasant at the very best.
“Nah. You don’t have to. I’m a magnanimous guy. But you’ll like it better if you let me.” He rests his forehead on mine, gazing deeply into my eyes.
He’s exercising so much patience and control to make me comfortable. I smile as the nerves in my belly settle and excitement sparks. I trust that he’s going to make it really good for me because he cares. “Okay. Deal.”