CHAPTER 11
1972 Words
Then he hugged her to him, holding her, savoring her touch and smell. He pressed his lips to the top of her head and closed his eyes, giving silent thanks that she hadn’t bolted. That she had enough guts to give them a chance.
It was all he’d ever ask. If he could have this, he’d never ask for another single thing in his life.
“Sandra, look at me, honey,” he said gently, putting enough distance between them so he could angle her head upward. So she met his gaze.
“If it makes you this unhappy, then you have to know I won’t ask it of you. I only want you to be happy. For us both to be happy. Preferably with one another.”
“I won’t know if you—this—will make me happy unless we try,” she said softly. She licked her lips, nervousness evident in her features. “I do want to try, Derrick. But you have to promise to be patient with me. I don’t know what to do here. I don’t know how to act or react. I’m without a guidebook. This isn’t something I ever imagined happening.”
He caressed her cheek, wiping away the last traces of tears.
“We have all the time in the world, Sandra. No rush. No impatience. Give me your trust. And your submission. I’ll do my very best to ensure you never regret it.”
Her expressive eyes gleamed with sudden light. Her pupils flared and he saw the stirrings of desire in the deep pools. Asking for her submission had fired her imagination. Had reminded her of all she wanted.
“What do we do now?” she whispered.
“For now, come inside. Let me make you a cup of coffee. There’s nothing more I’d love than to just sit with you awhile. We can talk. Just be. We’ll talk about us. Make a date. I want to take my time with this, Sandra. It’s too important to rush. I’ve waited this long. I’ll wait a hell of a lot longer if I have to.”
“I’d like that,” she murmured, her eyes warming.
He saw her acceptance. Not only of what he proposed, but of the inevitability of them. As a couple. He watched closely for any signs of hesitation. Of fear or uncertainty. But her gaze remained steady until he was satisfied that this was truly what she wanted. A chance. His chance to have her.
He was nearly undone by the implications. She in his arms. In his bed. His.
“There are other things I need to discuss with you,” he said, reminded of his conversation just moments ago with James.
She c****d her head to the side, evidently picking up on the change in his mood.
“What is it, Derrick? Is something wrong?”
He tucked her hand into his and then guided her into his house.
“No, nothing’s wrong. Just something I want you to hear from me.”
She tensed but remained silent as he took her into the kitchen where the half pot of coffee remained from earlier.
He poured two cups and warmed them in the microwave before returning to her, handing her one of the mugs.
“Let’s go into the living room where we’ll be comfortable,” he urged.
When he had her settled on the couch, he took the armchair that was diagonal to the sofa, even though what he wanted most was her in his arms. Against him. Her body warming his.
He sipped idly at the coffee, wondering which of the two tasks he should tackle first. Cement their relationship? Or possibly crush her with the news that he was replacing Clement?
He winced, deciding to postpone the latter until after they’d discussed their relationship.
“I know this was a lot for you to take in, especially on the day of Clement’s death,” he began. “I need you to understand that I didn’t plan it that way, Sandra. You forced my hand when I saw you at The House. Yes, I absolutely intended to make my move. Soon. But the anniversary of your husband’s death wasn’t when I wanted to begin this with you.”
“I understand,” she said quietly. “And I’m sorry, Derrick. I don’t remember if I told you that or not. But I am. Sorry for the way it happened. For it even happening at all. You have to know that wasn’t one of my prouder moments when you saw me at The House. I was . . . embarrassed. That certainly wasn’t the way I would have wanted to tell you.”
(2 Weeks Later)
Derrick lowered his body to hers, allowing his weight to press down on her, but he propped himself up on his forearms so he wouldn’t crush her. She was tiny and delicate, so much so that she looked as though she could be broken if handled too roughly. But it wasn’t her body he was most concerned about. It was her heart. Her emotions. He didn’t want to overwhelm her. He didn’t want her to fear him. Never that. Anything but that. He couldn’t bear it if she ever looked at him with fear in her beautiful eyes.
Holding himself up on one arm, he traced the lines of her face with his free hand, committing to memory every second of this first time. He could scarcely comprehend that she was finally his. That she was in his bed, naked, and that he’d be making love to her in just moments.
He hadn’t wanted her to be overwhelmed, but in fact, he was utterly overwhelmed himself.
“I’ve waited so long for this,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “For you.”
She smiled and turned her cheek into his palm, nuzzling farther into his touch. Then she pressed a kiss against his hand, just a simple, sweet gesture that turned his heart over in his chest.
“Make love to me, Derrick,” she whispered, her eyes burning brightly. They glowed in the soft light of the bedroom, alive with answering desire.
He lowered his mouth to hers, inhaling her scent as he tasted her lips. He pushed in with his tongue, licking over hers, exploring her mouth.
He was so hard that it was painful. He had to get rid of the barrier between them. He wanted his flesh against hers. Wanted to feel her softness and her warmth.
“Give me a minute to get out of these clothes,” he murmured against her lips. “Don’t move.”
She smiled again and stretched, lifting her arms above her head. It was a gesture of surrender. Was it intentional? A signal of her submission?
He removed his clothes, nearly tearing them in his haste. Her eyes widened when his erection sprang free from constraint. He glanced down and winced, understanding her surprise. He was harder than he’d ever been in his life. His d**k strained upward, so swollen and tight that the veins were clearly outlined. The head was nearly purple and already liquid leaked from the tip.
He didn’t dare touch himself. He didn’t trust himself not to spend himself right then and there.
“You have a beautiful body, Derrick,” she said shyly, color blooming in her cheeks.
He felt heat stain his own cheeks, embarrassed by her scrutiny. Never had he felt self-conscious about his body before. He kept in shape. Took care of himself. He wasn’t normally modest, but it was important to him that she appreciated his physique. Maybe that made him vain, but he wanted her approval. He wanted her to want him every bit as much as he wanted her.
“You’re who’s beautiful,” he said sincerely. “So damn beautiful you make me ache, Sandra.”
She arched her body in silent invitation. He needed no urging. He moved swiftly to the bed, no thoughts of dominance. Of commanding or arranging her in a submissive position. Tonight all he wanted was to have her. To seal the relationship beginning between them. Dominance—her submission—could come later.
“Spread your legs, honey,” he said huskily. “Let me see that pretty p***y. I want to taste you. I’ve been dying to taste you. I want you to come in my mouth. All over my tongue.”
She trembled and chill bumps danced across her skin. Her n*****s beaded and puckered, an invitation for him to taste.
He wanted it all. And before the night was over, he’d taste every inch of that delectable skin. No part of her would go unexplored. He’d know what pleased her, where her pleasure points were.
He was dying for her to taste him as well. To have her mouth wrapped around his d**k, her tongue lapping at his balls. But there was plenty of time for that. They had all the time in the world. Soon. Soon, he’d have complete mastery of her body. He’d have her complete obedience and submission. But tonight was all about her. Sating her desires, showing her how good they could be together.
When she hesitantly parted her thighs, giving him a clear look at her feminine flesh, he saw moisture gleaming on the delicate folds. Satisfaction gripped him. She wanted him. Was highly aroused. He desperately wanted to push into that sweet p***y, to feel her heat consume him, grip him like a fist. But he forced himself to exercise restraint.
Instead he closed the distance between them, crawling onto the bed between her splayed thighs. Unable to resist, he ran a finger through her folds, lightly grazing her clit before circling her tiny opening.
She arched upward like a shot, her reaction intense and immediate. She gasped when he continued his careful exploration. He dipped one finger inside, barely rimming her entrance. She was dripping with desire. So wet and moist. He could take her now. She was certainly ready. But he wanted her mindless. Completely out of her head before he took them both over the edge.
Savoring the thought of ultimate satisfaction, he continued touching her, petting her, bringing her closer to orgasm. When she began trembling, her entire body tightening, he drew away, giving her a moment to come down.
“Derrick . . .”
His name came out needy, desperate. He chuckled and kissed the inside of her thigh, lightly grazing the skin with his teeth. She shivered again, already working back up to release. He planned to take his time, savoring every second of this experience.
Using his fingers to gently part her folds, further exposing her to him, he leaned down, inhaling deep, absorbing her scent. A low growl worked from his throat. He was desperate for her. He wanted to dive in, devour her with his mouth and then later his c**k.
His balls ached with the need to possess her. And then an unwelcome thought intruded, ripping him from the fantasy of f*****g her long and hard. Another groan, this time of dismay, ripped from his mouth.
“What’s wrong, Derrick?”
Her worried question had him raising his head. He sighed, disgusted with himself for not addressing this sooner. For not even thinking about it. He’d been so wrapped up in securing her consent, so focused on the act itself that he hadn’t given any consideration to protecting her.
“I’m so sorry, honey. God, I could kick myself in the balls for this. I can’t believe this didn’t come up before now. I gave no thought to protecting you.”
Her brow furrowed in puzzlement. She didn’t understand what he was getting at.
- Writer
