I didn’t go talk to Tia. I stayed in the workshop until four in the morning and passed out beside her, not touching her. Not because I was that pissed that she’d made an innocent mistake, but because I didn’t feel worthy of her touch.
I woke up to her mouth. Fuck, but my baby girl could give head. I’d said it to myself every time I got those beautiful lips around my cock.
She finished and cuddled up and kissed my chest, kissed her tatt on me, and then tried to roll away.
Whoa. I grabbed her and stopped her.
And then I looked into her eyes while my hand slid in between her legs. She’d gone to sleep naked for me and I hadn’t even noticed.
She tried to close her eyes and roll her head back.
“Eyes on me, Athena,” I whispered and circled her clit.
I rubbed her pussy until she called out my name and then rolled into me.
She held tight, body trembling.
“We’re gonna be okay. Get things ready. I’ll call today about getting us a flight back home.”
She nodded, got up, and took a shower.
I went downstairs and put the coffee on and made her some breakfast.
It was our last night before heading home. We were down on the dock.
This fucking girl. My fucking girl.
She was slowly riding me, sitting on my lap, our foreheads touching, her sundress covering the fact that my cock was inside her. We were at the end of the dock in another chair I’d built, this one stained dark red.
“Sometimes, things feel like they couldn’t be more right than when I’m held in your arms, with you being gentle,” she whispered.
I ran my nose up the line of her jaw and my hand up her back, sifting my fingers through her silky, long, oats and honey scented hair.
Her voice got smaller. “And sometimes, I’m sure it’s never more right than when you force me.”
I closed my eyes and emotion washed straight through my skin, seeping into my bones.
“You really were made for me, baby girl. You know that, right?”
She nodded, shyly, teeth imbedded in her bottom lip.
“I used to get off on making you cry. Then it sickened me. Now I’m craving your tears again and I fucking hate myself for it.”
“Don’t hate yourself. Let me give you what you need.”
“I want it, too.”
“I had a twisted sense of entitlement when you got given to me.”
“And now you don’t?”
“Naw. I still do. It’s just that now… I don’t only think about me. Don’t get me wrong, if it all came down to it, I’d still be a selfish prick --- but I’d feel bad about it.”