Page 16

THIRTEEN

DASH

She’s sucking my cock.

My body knows before I even open my eyes that her mouth is around my shaft, wet and warm.

Fuck.

When I open my eyes, she’s draped over me, her hands on my hips, hair pulled into a messy knot so I can see the way her cheeks hollow with each bob of her head.

The light flick of her tongue over the head of my cock sends electric jolts along every nerve ending in my body.

She lifts her lashes, uncertainty there for a second before she smiles around my length. She’s never looked more fucking beautiful than she does right now.

This isn’t obligation.

It’s not submission.

She’s claiming me, like I’m hers.

My breath hitches as she swipes over tip and my vision blurs for a beat.

“Fuck.” I spit the word through gritted teeth as my mind empties of every thought but her hot mouth on me.

She gives me a wicked grin, one that hits me in the chest hard. There’s trust there, the beginning of belief that I’m in this with her.

She gently squeezes my balls, and I lose all thought. I focus on trying to breathe instead, trying to loosen the tight muscles in my throat. Her tongue moves between soft and teasing, while her touch is firm and heavy.

I’m no longer in my body. I’m floating, useless, held only together by her mouth on me.

I never knew that devotion could look like this.

“I’m gonna… come.” The words are rasped, and I expect her to pull off me, but she doesn’t.

I spill into her mouth, my gut tight, my muscles locked. She swallows me down, and I swear I’ve never felt more fucking owned in my life. This wasn’t just a blow job. It was a statement. She’s mine, but I’m hers too.

My chest heaves, my lungs burning as I gulp air like I’m starving.

“Good morning,” she says, moving up the bed to lie next to me.

I want to worship her, to kiss lips still glistening with my cum, but I can’t move. I can’t do anything but exist.

“You okay?” she asks when I don’t speak.

I drape my arm over my eyes, trying to ground myself.

“Give me a second.”

She snorts, pressing a kiss to my chest. “I’ll give you all the time you need.”

My breaths come slower, less shallow, the heat on my skin cooling too. When I feel human again, I drop my arm and give her a lazy smile.

“Babe…”

“You liked that?”

“Yeah.” I cup her face, needing to touch her. “You looked so fucking perfect, taking me like that.”

She traces her fingers over my tattoos. “I like making you feel good.”

I kiss her, tasting myself on her tongue. I always want to be kissing or touching her.

For the last week, I’ve spent every available minute in my day with her. Waking with her draped over me has become routine in a way that makes me crave it on the days I’m not able to stay over.

I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her, and not just because she wakes me up with blowjobs. She’s funny as fuck, kind, and sweet, once she pulls back the barbs she uses to protect herself.

Every day, I peel back more of her layers and fall a little more.

I lace my fingers behind my head as she climbs out of bed. Her curves beg for my fingerprints to paint them, and she sashays her hips like a fucking temptress as she heads for the door. “I’m gonna go brush the protein out of my teeth.”

I laugh. “You did not just call my cum protein.”

“You prefer I call it spunk? Jizz? Baby gravy?”

This fucking woman… “None of the above.”

She flashes me a smile before she leaves, and when she returns, she’s clutching a cloth. I watch through heavy lids as she climbs onto the bed. Her eyes dart to mine, and again, there’s that uncertainty.

“Can I clean you?”

I’ve never had anybody wipe me down after I’ve spilled my load, and my chest is tight as I come up on my elbows.

Every part of me feels soft for her. “Yeah, babe. You can.”

I’ve never had anyone look at me the way she does, like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she blinks too hard. Like she wants me too much to put into words. It makes my ribs ache.

The first touch with the cloth makes my hips jolt, my body still sensitive.

“Sorry,” she murmurs, wiping more gently when she tries again.

I don’t take my eyes off her. This is intimacy, devotion. Care like I’ve never experienced. She wants to love me.

“There,” her hand stills, “good as new.”

She tosses the cloth onto the floor with the rest of the dirty laundry, and our eyes lock.

“Are you real?” I ask the question she’d asked me, which earns a smile.

“I am when I’m with you.”

I pull her down on top of me for a bruising kiss. Our tongues tangle, slow and lazy, seeking and feeling. Her skin against mine is warm and soft, and I grip her hips, holding her to me.

“But it’s a waste of time cleaning me up, baby.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’m gonna be inside you in less than thirty seconds.”

“Make it ten,” she teases.

Thirty minutes later, my body is vibrating from taking her, my hair is damp from the shower, and I’m making breakfast while she gets changed.

As soon as she walks in, I’m aware of her. My body just knows she’s there and reacts as she wraps her arms around my waist, her hands sliding under my T-shirt. She presses her cheek to my back and lets out a content sigh.

“Are you still coming here tonight?”

It kills me that she still doubts I’ll show up.

“Yeah, babe. I’ll be here.” I turn around, pulling her into my arms and brushing my lips to hers.

She melts into me, like her body knows she belongs here, even if her mind hasn’t caught up yet.

“Sometimes, I think I dreamed you,” she whispers. “I don’t know why you’re still here, but I’m happy you are.”

I brush her hair off her face, scanning her. “I wish you would see yourself the way I do,” I say.

“Messy? Crazy? Too much?”

She says it with a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. It never does when she’s tearing herself down. She knows her own words wound but can’t stop from taking the shot.

“You’re not crazy, and you’re not too much. You don’t have to shrink yourself to fit the ideals of the people around you, Dayna. You just have to be you.”

She snuggles against my chest, and I cup the back of her head. “Being myself doesn’t usually work very well.”

That guts me too because when she’s unfiltered, when she’s not putting on an act, Dayna is one of a kind.

I pull her back so she can see the truth when I say my next words.

“You’re not perfect, babe. No one is. You’re complicated, sometimes messy, but that’s not all you are.

You’ve built a life from nothing, and you made it pretty.

” I run my fingers over her temple. “But you’ve got to stop letting other people’s views get in your head.

Unless it’s my view. Because Dayna, I fucking see you. I understand you.”

She flinches, just for a split second, as if my words scare her. Maybe they do. She’s never let anyone in really.

“Who knew giving you a morning blow would make you so reflective,” she deflects, a habit I don’t know if she’s ever going to break. “Thanks for the self-help talk, but I was joking.”

She pulls out of my arms, and I let her go. She is not in a place to hear what I’m saying, but maybe one day she will be. Maybe one day Dayna will take my words at face value and she’ll understand exactly what she means to the people who love her.

“Do you want coffee?” She throws over her shoulder, as if we haven’t just laid her bare in the kitchen.

“I can’t. I’ve got a run.” I follow her and grab her nape. Fuck she’s beautiful. Every part of her makes my body sing.

I kiss her, deep and claiming, reminding her who she fucking belongs to.

“I’ll be back tonight,” I continue, and fuck I hate that I have to go. I don’t want to leave her here in this flat with her thoughts and shit fucking security.

“I finish at seven.” Her hands slide along my sides.

“I’ll be here at half past. And I’m changing that fucking lock.”

I don’t want to railroad her, but I’m done letting her sleep in a place that isn’t safe, especially when I’m not here.

Her brow arches. “Daryll will fix it, Dash. Just give him time.”

Her dick head landlord is going to feel my boot on his neck for leaving her unprotected.

“He’s had almost a week. The lock is dog shit. I’m tired of waiting for that useless prick to do something, so I’ll fucking change it. It’s a five-minute job and I’ll sleep easier knowing that you’re safe on the days I’m not here.”

I don’t mean for those words to hit as hard as they do, but she peers up at me like I just handed her my soul.

“You’re so hot when you’re all growly. I like it. But it’s not your responsibility to take care of my maintenance. I’ll message Darryl again today.”

I kiss her again, because I can’t help myself when I’m this close to her mouth. I need to claim her every time.

The sweet floral scent of her shampoo and her warmth soaking into me is becoming so familiar I crave both.

“I like this T-shirt,” she says, her fingers ghosting along the side of my shirt.

“No,” I say immediately, and she pouts. “You already have half my wardrobe. At this rate, I’m gonna be turning up to the clubhouse in just my kutte.”

Her eyes heat before she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. “Now, that is a look I can get behind. Maybe we can have sex like that later. You naked, just in that leather vest.”

My body clenches, and my breath catches. “Babe, we can have sex anyway you want, but right now, I have to go.”

I give her a lingering kiss, bruising her lips enough that she’ll remember my mouth after I’m gone, and then I head out.

I hate to admit it, but the thought of going to the clubhouse leaves a heaviness in my stomach. It never used to feel like this. Then again, I wasn’t involved in a plot to overthrow my president and VP.

It feels like I’m living two lives—the one with Dayna and the one with my club. Switching from blissed-out boyfriend to watching for knives in my back is exhausting.