Page 76 of Hell of a Mess

Her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip as her eyes lit up, like they always did at the sight of me.

“Hello,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting you to be in here.”

I shrugged. “I sent you a text to go to the kitchen.”

She nodded and smiled shyly. That just made me want to bend her over the table and flip that damn dress up.

“I thought you were going to convince me to eat something.”

I smirked. “I’m gonna do that too. But after.”

“After?”

I crooked my finger at her and watched as she walked toward me like the good girl she was. Her dark hair was down and partially draped over a shoulder. Her plump lips were free of any lipstick or gloss. The dark circles were still under her eyes, but they weren’t as severe today. Perhaps the orgasm she’d had last night helped her rest easier.

When she stopped in front of me, I ran the tip of my finger down her bare arm and watched as goose bumps covered her skin.

“So soft,” I murmured, continuing my trail back up and then over her collarbone before dipping down into her cleavage.

Her tight little nipples poked through the fabric, and I tugged the front of the sundress down, baring them. Perfect, perky globes bounced free.

“Oh,” she gasped, her eyes staring up at me with a mix of nerves and excitement.

“Prettiest damn titties I’ve ever seen,” I told her before rolling one of her nipples between my thumb and forefinger, then squeezing until she sucked in a sharp breath. “Did that hurt?” I asked, palming her breast, which was more than a handful, and kneading it.

“A little,” she admitted.

“Mmm, I want to make you feel good, but I want to make it hurt a little too,” I told her, thinking about her round ass with my handprint on it.

“Okay,” she whispered.

I lifted my gaze from her tits to her face. “Have you ever had your pussy kissed?” Because I was about to fucking make her forget every man who had touched her before me.

“I-I haven’t even had my mouth kissed,” she whispered.

My hand stopped fondling her tit as my gaze narrowed. “What?” I asked, not sure I was understanding her correctly.

There was no fucking way.

I knew her fiancé had been into men, but before him…

She was twenty-nine years old. There had to have been someone.

“I…I’ve not, um…there was no one. I mean, I never was alone with anyone, or I didn’t have relationships,” she stammered as her cheeks turned a darker red with each word.

“No one? Nothing? You’re a complete virgin?” I asked, unable to mask my shock.

She nodded as her eyes began to well with tears. Jesus Christ, I was not the man for this. She was one hundred percent innocent, and I was…I was a corrupt, debased outlaw.

“I’m sorry,” she said as a tear began to roll down her cheek.

The sight of her crying snapped the small thread of sanity I had been holding on to with this woman. Reaching up, I brushed itaway.

“Don’t be sorry,” I told her.

“I want to do all those things you said,” she told me as her eyes pleaded.

Damn, I was fucked. I couldn’t stand to see her cry or hear her sweet voice tell me she wanted me, but I’d be her first at everything. She was already attached to me. Needed me. This would take it to another level. She’d become clingy…