With one hand, he caresses my breast through the fabric of my dress. I arch desperately into his touch, sucking hard on his tongue. His other hand slips under my dress, slowly caressing my thighs, eliciting a soft whimper from me. His hand continues its torturous journey up my thighs until his fingers brush my panties. His fingers tease my folds.
Suddenly, the pad of his thumb brushes across my clit. An unexpected shock ripples through my entire body.
I press my thighs sharply together, so his hand is trapped between my laps.
Carlos raises his head to look down into my face, his eyes are clouded with arousal mixed with a hint of confusion. “What’s wrong, Abby? Do you want me to stop?”
I let out a silly chuckle and place a hand over my face as if to hide from his piercing gaze. “It’s just...I’ve never gotten past first base with anyone. No man has ever touched me…that intimately.”
Carlos blinks down at me in shock. “What do you...You mean you haven’t...You’re a virgin?”
I feel my cheeks instantly heat at the disbelief in his tone. Or was it awe?
“Nobody wants to fuck a fat girl,” I say, not daring to look at him lest I see the same aversion in his eyes I have seen in the eyes of all those who have said hurtful words to me.
“Damn...,” Carlos mutters. He runs a hand through his hair and stands swiftly from the couch. “Let me get you to your room.”
I let out a huge yawn. “I knew it,” I drawl sleepily. “You don’t want anything to do with a fat girl.”
I yelp loudly when Carlos manages to scoop me into his arms. I wrap my arms around his neck and snuggle into his broad chest.
“I feel like a princess,” I mutter, finally submitting to the comfort the steady thrum of his heart beneath my ear elicits.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Carlos
I run a hand down my face for the thousandth time since I woke up from my fitful sleep. I’ve never been so distressed in probably my whole life.
I almost made a costly mistake on that sofa last night. I could have ruined her first time by having her right there on that sofa.
She deserves more.
She deserves the world.
My world.
I still can’t fathom how a woman can be so fucking hot and still be a virgin at that age.
It seems like every fucking person around Abby Smith is blind.
They have fed her so much crap over the years, burying her self-confidence along the way. She’s fucking sexy. And I don’t know how she can’t see that. She seems to have this twisted conviction that I don’t want her. I have tried and failed to think back to what I might have done to give her that impression, but I plan on changing it. I plan to worship every damn part of her until she realizes that she’s the most beautiful woman in my world.
And for the hundredth time, I feel burning anger in my chest at the thought of what she’s gone through with both physical and cyberbullies. I wish I could find every person that ever hurt her. I wish I could show them whose woman they messed with.
Mine.
Ever since Abby stumbled into my life, my mind has been a jumbled mess of conflicting thoughts and emotions. I can’t stop thinking about her...all of her. I want to possess and protect her. I want to hand her the assurance of my devotion. I want to possess her maddening curves and worship her body till I’m all she can think of.
Images of last night flash in my mind in sharp focus. At first, I had been surprised at her audacity, which made her even sexier. I knew the booze was pushing her out of her shell, but I immediately lost all my sense of good reasoning the moment she crawled onto my lap and whispered those teasing words into my ear.
The teasing light in her eye blinded me and her heady scent had me feeling drunk. All I could feel were her ample breasts pressed against my chest, and I immediately went rock hard.
I can’t stop thinking about slamming into her while repeatedly spanking that bubble butt of hers. I want to hear her scream my name while she shivers violently at the peak of orgasm. I want to have her ride me while I watch her breast bounce deliciously on her chest.
I let my hand roam down to my hard member. I close my eyes and stroke myself slowly through the materials of my briefs while picturing Abby’s succulent breasts.
I imagine sliding slowly into her, enveloped by her warm sheath, riding her in slow, deliberate strokes while I look deep into her eyes. I can hear the musical sounds of her throaty moans while I repeatedly hit her pleasure spot until she’s listless with desire.