I’d made love to her before. But now… Now that I knew what she’d been through, how could I do this to her? She was so innocent. So damaged.
But so wonderful. And so fucking beautiful. And I loved her. I loved her so damned much.
Despite my name, I wasn’t made of steel. “All right, baby. Take me to your bedroom.”
Chapter Eight
Daphne
My bedroom wasn’t decorated in pink. Wasn’t overly girlie. The only problem was the twin bed, but we’d make do.
Puppy still sat where I’d left him earlier. I wasn’t embarrassed by my stuffed dog. I picked him up and moved him to a chair.
Brad looked around. My room was so small compared to his bedroom at the townhome, and especially compared to the room at his ranch house outside Snow Creek. He was so big and broad that this room seemed to swallow him up.
He acted hesitant, so I did something I’d never done. I took the lead. I walked to him, wrapped my arms around his neck, and pulled his head downward until his lips met mine.
I kissed him softly at first, and then I opened my mouth and let my tongue wander out to meet his. He tasted of liquor and woods, of cinnamon and strength, of everything that was important in the world. Then I deepened the kiss, kissed him the way he’d taught me. I wanted to take from him while giving to him. I wanted a raw and feral kiss.
He responded slowly, gently easing into it.
I pulled away. “Don’t hold back,” I demanded. “Kiss me like you mean it.”
“I always mean it, baby.”
“Then show me.”
He eased away from me. “I… I’m not sure I can.”
“Why? Don’t you want me?”
“I always want you.”
“Then why—?”
He grabbed the back of my head and planted his mouth on mine. This time he dived in, taking my tongue with his, snaking it over my teeth and gums.
A kiss. A real kiss. Brad had taught me what a real kiss was. It could be soft and sweet, and those kisses were wonderful. But right now? I wanted a kiss of passion. A raw kiss of need.
Because I needed Brad. I needed him so badly.
Our mouths melded together. Heat swept over me, through me, around me, landing between my legs. If anything, I felt it more intensely now that I was pregnant. Was it my imagination? Maybe. Or maybe it was the pure emotion of knowing the product of our love was growing inside me.
My little dove.
Brad broke the kiss and inhaled sharply. “I want you. I want you so much, Daphne.”
“I want you too. Now.” I lifted my shirt over my head.
He sucked in a breath. “Every time I look at you, you’re even more beautiful than before.”
His words warmed me, settled over me like warm chocolate syrup. He took his own shirt off and discarded it. I touched him, trailed my fingertips over his broad shoulders, his muscular arms, his chiseled chest and abdomen. Traced his nipples that hardened under my touch.
“I love how you touch me,” he said. “How it makes me feel.” He removed his boots and unbuckled his belt. “Will you touch me, Daphne?”
“Yes,” I murmured.
“I mean…”
“I’ll touch you anywhere you want me to.”
He lowered his jeans and underwear, sliding them down his legs and kicking them off.
His cock was hard and ready. That was what he wanted. For me to touch him there.
I wanted to. It was part of him, and I loved every part of him. It had been inside me, helped me have such pleasure.
Guys loved to be touched there, loved to be sucked there. It was all new to me, but I wanted to please Brad more than anything in the world.
I tentatively reached forward—
“Wait.” He unclasped my bra and set it on the chair next to Puppy.
I had to close my eyes for a moment. Puppy wasn’t real. He couldn’t see what we were doing. But he was a symbol of my childhood, and I was no longer a child.
No longer a child.
In fact, before long, I’d have a child.
But that was my last thought of a child. No more while my body was responding to Brad’s eyes on me. I was hot. So hot. Burning in flames.
He unzipped my jeans and helped me out of them. He pulled my panties down my hips until I was as naked as he was.
He was beautiful. So beautiful.
“Tell me what you want,” I said.
“I need your touch, baby.”
I nodded. “Show me what to do. I want to please you.”
“You always please me.” He took my hand and led it to his penis.
My fingers trembled as I touched him. It was warm, so warm, as if it were made of burning embers underneath the smooth skin. Yes, it was smooth. Smooth and hot and perfect, two blue veins running over it like the marbling on his countertops in the townhome.