Filling Her Up (Hot-Bites 5)
I can’t say she’d be entirely wrong either.
“I know,” she starts nervously, wringing her hands in her lap so hard I’m looking for her to start peeling the skin off. “This is just… This will help us reinforce personal zones,” she finishes, trying to sound very professional.
My lips twitch. I can’t help it. I’ve got a damn hard-on to end all hard-ons. My hands are literally shaking with the need to touch her, and I want to laugh. I shake my head. This girl has me by the short hairs and she doesn’t even know it. She’s sitting on the bed, not a sign of make-up on her sweet face. She’s not even wearing anything sexy—in fact, she’s wearing a white nightgown which has long sleeves and is buttoned up clear to her neck. It reminds me of something I’ve seen women wear in Little House on the Prairie reruns. It’s the line of pillows that has me almost bursting out laughing.
“Where did you get all those pillows?” I ask, still shocked.
“I called the front desk. I wanted more, but they gave me all they had. I took them and the ones on the bed and did the best I could,” she says.
I give a dry cough of laughter, trying to hold most of it in. I don’t want to hurt her damn feelings.
The best she could do is a line of what looks to be two pillows high and three pillows long situated up the middle of the bed.
“I… um… I gave you more room on your side,” she mumbles and I smile while fighting the urge to laugh again. She did give me more room. So much so, if she moves a lot she’s liable to roll off onto the floor.
“I sleep on the left side,” I deadpan.
Her eyes dilate and shock covers her face and again I grin.
“I’ll fix it,” she says, getting up and immediately grabbing the first section of pillows and pulling them to make the left roomier. “I’ll have it fixed in no time and you can uh… maybe find your pajamas,” she adds, her face blushing a deep red that I can see through the curtain of her hair. She’s doing her best not to look at me.
I stride over to her, stand at her back and reach around her to grab the pillow she’s holding. She freezes instantly, and I literally have to pull her body back into mine because she’s gone so stiff. Once I do, I lean down to whisper in her ear.
“I was joking, Cassie. The bed is fine, except you need a little more room. I don’t want you rolling off in the middle of the night and hurting yourself,” I tell her. I close my eyes, my hands firmly planted on her hips and I drag her scent into my lungs, enjoying the feel of her body so close to me. My dick is now tenting the damn towel, straining to get to the holy land, the head pushing against her ass. I know she can feel it, but there’s not a damn thing I can do about it—so I don’t even try.
“I don’t need much room. Once I lay on the bed, I’m good. I just lay there. I don’t move,” she says, and I drag my lips against the tender skin beneath her ear, letting my beard tickle her skin softly. Her body quivers against me and I let a soft moan escape before I can stop it.
“Maybe you just don’t have the right incentive to move,” I tell her like a fucking pig. I meant to control myself and not send her running. One touch of my hand on her body and I lose my damn control—and my mind.
“Michael, I can’t… we can’t… I mean, I don’t think it would be… We shouldn’t…”
I take in a deep breath, inadvertently getting drunk on the warm scent of vanilla and sugar. Jesus. Cassie is killing me with that flavor. I want to lick her from head to toe to see if she tastes as good as she smells.
I can’t do that…
“We don’t know each other. It would be so fast.”
“You’re safe, Cassie,” I assure her. I turn her around in my arms so I can see those beautiful eyes of hers. “I would never force myself on you. I know how it looks, but I promise you right here, right now, I will never take what you won’t freely give me.” She looks up at me with a big, vulnerable expression and I get lost in them instantly. “You’ll be safe beside me, or beside your wall of pillows,” I vow, and no matter how much it kills me, I mean it.
I reluctantly let her go, stepping back and giving us a little space.
“Thank you, Michael,” she murmurs, confusion on her face so clear I can see—