Page 119 of The Rogue and His Flower

“Why?”

“Because loving someone isn’t just about sex,” I reply, feathering my fingers against his stubbled jaw.

“Yet you want me naked?” he asks, a soft laugh releasing from his lips.

“Loving someone also means taking care of them,” I continue, gently. “Sex is wonderful, of course it is, but kindness, care, empathy,tenderness, that’s a huge part of it too. I think you’re beginning to see that, at least I thought you were when we…”

“When we what, Daisy?”

“That night when I had the nightmare. It was so… I felt.. It seemed as though you…caredfor me,” I say, choosing my words carefully.

“Christ, Daisy. Idocare for you. I did what you asked of me because I care.”

“But…”

“But, what?” he asks.

“After we had sex, when I looked in your eyes, I saw so much fear there, hesitancy, and it threw me. I thought perhaps you wished we hadn’t had sex that night, that maybe I’d cornered you into doing something you didn’t want, that you pity-fucked me.”

“Fuck, no. I hate that you thought that,” he exclaims, swiping a hand through his hair. “That wasn’t what I felt at all. I wanted to ease your pain, Daisy. I wanted you to escape from your memories. I wanted you to feel good, but when it was over and you were crying, I was afraid I took advantage of your emotional state. That I made things worse, that I did the wrong thing like I’m prone to do.”

“You didn’t. You did exactly therightthing,” I say, dragging in a deep breath. “You saw me at my worst, you held me with care and affection, you helped me overcome the memories by giving me what I craved. Youdidease my pain. It was, and forever will be, a perfect moment in time. All of it, not just the sex, or the spanking, or the way you held me both before and after. Every single moment.”

“Fuck, it was perfect wasn’t it? It was as though… It was as if…” His voice trails off as he winces. “Why is this so damn hard for me to talk about? I’m sorry I’m not able to express myself very well. I should’ve explained how I felt at the time, but like now I couldn’t find the words.”

“I understand, and now that I do, I’ll make sure I don’t rush to any conclusions, ” I reply, feeling an immense sense of relief.

“So what now?” he questions, giving me a lopsided grin.

“Do you trust me?” I ask, sliding my palms up over the firm muscles of his chest, my fingers pushing the material of his shirt over his shoulder.

“Yes,” he whispers, as I remove his shirt, allowing the material to flutter to the floor.

Reaching for the waistband of his swim shorts next, I slip my fingers beneath the material at his hips and slide them off until he’s naked before me. His dick hangs heavy between his thighs, not completely erect, but not soft either. And whilst I want nothing more than to touch him and bring him to orgasm like he did for me on the jetty, I don’t, I simply say, “Get on the bed, lie down on your stomach.”

Without uttering a word, Dalton does as I ask. He lays down on the huge bed, resting his cheek on his folded hands. For a moment I just stare at his beautiful body, at his broad shoulders and back covered in stunning abstract black tattoos, that curl and loop around each other. I allow my gaze to coast over his strong muscular arms and legs, before finally resting my gaze on his profile.

“You’re a beautiful man, Dalton,” I say, climbing onto the bed, straddling his firm arse as I gently lower myself over him, my cotton dress gathered around the top of my thighs. “I’ve always thought so. I guess I was hiding my own attraction for fear of being rejected,” I admit. “Now I don’t have to.”

Dalton sucks in a breath, and I know he must feel the dampness of my knickers, how I’m wet for him, but he doesn’t try to move, and I don’t grind against him to relieve the ache I feel. Instead, I rest my hands on the centre of his back, then gently run my fingers up and down the length of his spine, caressing him with fondness and affection, with care and tenderness.

“That feels good,” he murmurs, as I stroke his skin, soothing him.

“I want you to feel good,” I reply and as my fingers continue to glide over Dalton’s skin, his muscles start to relax beneath me as the tension in his body begins to dissipate. “I want you to feel cared for.”

Taking a moment to savour the sensation, I begin to massage his shoulders, kneading the muscles gently until I hear a soft moan escape his lips. I’m not doing this to get him off, to make him hard, though given the sounds he’s making I suspect that’s happening anyway. I’m doing it because I want him to feel taken care of. So I continue to massage him, interspersing the kneading of his muscles with soft strokes of my fingers over his skin. Then slowly, tentatively, I lean over and press soft kisses against his skin, imbuing tenderness into his flesh, wanting him to know that he is treasured, that I treasure him.

Part of me expects him to turn beneath me, to succumb to the sexual attraction between us, but he doesn’t, he simply allows me to stroke him, soothe him, and as time passes his eyelids drift shut and his breathing settles into an even rhythm. When I’m certain that he’s fallen asleep, I climb off him and lay by his side, my hand pressed against the middle of his back as I stare at the man I now call husband. Before long I’m drifting off to sleep too, thoughts of a happy,lovingfuture with Dalton whispering across my mind.

The next morningI wake up to the press of firm, warm lips against mine, and my eyelids flutter open as Dalton reaches up and brushes a strand of hair off my face.

“Morning, wife,” he says, rubbing the tip of his nose against the bridge of mine.

“Morning, husband,” I whisper back, twisting in his arms that have somehow wound themselves around my body as he stares at me. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a baby. Speaking of which…” he replies, his voice trailing off as he runs his hand over my hip, the warmth of his fingers dragging fire across my skin as he grins. “There’s no time like the present.”

“Dalton, I think maybe we should–” but my words are abruptly cut off as his hand reaches between my legs and he cups my pussy, making me forget everything I was about to say.

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