Page 54 of Seeds of Malice

It's like Dax knows me better than I know myself. He leans closer, and his deep voice is teasing when he says, "I just went down on you. You haven't done anything to me. I've still got blue balls."

Guilt fills me. That makes me sound greedy.

Am I?

"So you want to be a prude instead?" he asks.

"No, but... I don't know." I'm so confused.

His face falls. "Is this really about me being a manwhore?"

Once again, I feel bad. I can't stand it when he looks so upset. I don't know why I keep making him feel that way, so I assure him, "No, that's not what I'm saying."

"Then what are you saying? I like you. You like me. What's wrong with us being together?"

I ponder his question, my brain fuzzy from champagne, high from my first-ever orgasm, and dizzy from the emotions Dax brings out in me.

In a disappointed voice, he asks, "So you think there's something wrong with us being together?"

"No! I swear it's not that," I insist.

A bit of anger taints his tone. "If it's not that, then what is it? Me? Maybe you think I'm not good enough for you." More hurt fills that statement, and that pains my heart.

"I could never be embarrassed by you or think that you aren't good enough for me. You're amazing." It surprises me how easily I tell him what I'm always feeling, but one thing about Dax is he never holds back. So maybe it makes it easier for me not to.

Plus, he doesn't want any secrets between us. I want to honor that request.

My heart beats faster, thinking that I've only known Dax for a day, but I feel so close to him. This is right between us. I know it in my heart.

He rolls off me and lies on his back next to me. He stares at the ceiling, his jaw clenched, and I can tell he's hurt and not happy.

I don't want him to think I don't want him as much as he wants me, so I do something I've never done before. I roll on top of him.

He keeps his eyes pinned to the ceiling.

I force him to look at me. Then I assert, "I could never think you aren't good enough for me. Do you understand?"

His expression doesn't change, and I hate that I've put that thought into his head. I don't know how I did it, but I have. He remains silent.

I decide to kiss him.

He doesn't kiss me back at first, but then he slowly does until one of his hands is back on my ass and the other reaches up and tweaks my nipple, which is already sore and sensitive.

It gives me another rush of adrenaline. I wonder again how he can make me feel so alive.

His cock grows even more erect, pushing against my pussy, and I'm tempted to slide on top of it. It's another surprising thought.

He mumbles in a desperate tone, "I need your mouth on me, Ivy. Please. You don't understand how much I need it."

How is it that he needs me?

I still can't believe he's chosen me out of all the other girls around here. I'm simple compared to them. He claims that's what he wants. And maybe it's true that you always want what you can't have, and I'm the first girl that he's ever been able to meet who is different.

Maybe that does make me special.

As if he can read my thoughts, he says, "No one's special like you, Ivy, and I just... Well, I need you. I do, baby girl. You don't understand. I'm hurting without you down there. I need to see what it's like for you to be consumed by me."

My heart beats faster. I find some courage and try to look sexy. I bat my eyes, cooing, "Are you sure you can handle it?" Then I giggle. I don't know what I'm saying. I don't even know what I'm doing, but I'm going for it.

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