Page 117 of Dare to Love Me

Her breasts brush against my thighs, soft and full, her hardened nipples grazing my skin with every movement. Her ass is high in the air, the curve of it on full display.

I can’t fully see her face—only the top of her head, the wild tumble of her hair spilling over my stomach. Maybe it’s for the best. If I could see her expression as she takes me deeper—I think I’d explode on the spot.

She takes me all the way to the back of her throat and . . . fuck . . . oh god.

“Fuck—”

I grip the sheets, trying to maintain some semblance of control. Failing spectacularly.

“Daisy,” I manage through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to thrust into her mouth.

Her head bobs up and down, that tiny, beautiful mouth sucking me off with such skill. Reaching the back of her throat with each movement, sending electric waves of sensation through me. The warmth. The pressure.

“Sweetheart,” I groan. “Stop. I want to come inside you. Stop or I’ll come.”

She gazes up, lips stretched around me, and I almost lose it right then.

She finally releases me, her lips swollen from her work.

“Okay.” She gasps as she climbs up my body, straddling me once more. Her heat pressing against me, bare between us. “I need you inside of me too.”

“Fuck,” I pant. “We need a bloody condom. Unless you’d like to explain to Sophia why her older brother knocked up her best friend.”

She pulls back just enough to smirk down at me. “You don’t have any?”

I shoot her a pointed look, my breathing still ragged. “I haven’t exactly had need to carry them around for emergencies.”

Her grin widens, and she reaches over to her bedside table. “Lucky for you, I always come prepared.”

Something in my chest tightens.

Her casual preparedness is a reminder of the distance between us.She, with her sensuality, her vibrancy, her natural ease in moments like this. AndI. . . with years of restraint, of self-imposed solitude.

For her, this might be just another evening.

But for me . . .

This feels like something I won’t be able to take back.

She pulls out a collection of condoms, examining them with a look of mock analysis.

“This one’s too small for you,” she muses, flicking it aside. “We’ll need the extra-large. From my clinical assessment.”

Despite my raging erection, a chuckle escapes me. “Your scientific approach is noted.”

“Hold on—” she continues, holding up another, barely suppressing her amusement. “I’ve also got a variety pack. Flavors include . . . banana, strawberry, and”—she squints—“‘peach surprise.’”

I groan, dragging a hand down my face. “Daisy, I don’t give a damn what flavor it is. Just put it on. I’m barely holding it together.”

She cocks her head, eyes bright with mischief. “Are you in distress, Doctor?”

“Excruciating distress,” I grit out. “Trying to hold myself together, but having you positioned above me like this is pushing me to my limits.”

She giggles. “You shouldn’t hold yourself together.” She rolls her hips, bare heat pressing against the length of me. “That’s the whole point.”

She reaches for the condom, ripping the packet open with her teeth, and I’m transfixed, watching as she rolls it down my length.

Our eyes lock as she slowly sinks down, inch by inch, until I’m fully buried inside her.