Page 151 of The Rogue and His Flower

“Even now?” I ask.

“Evenmoreso now,” he adds vehemently.

My heart soars, thumping back to life. This past month it’s felt bruised, and I’ve tried my best to keep it safe, to keep it from feeling much of anything really. Dalton was right, I’d allowed myself to wallow in sadness because I couldn’t let it feel hope. Hope that what I sensed from him on our honeymoon was love. Hope that he could love me despite the fact I may never be able to carry his child. Until I heard those words right now, I’d still been uncertain, afraid that he was with me out of obligation.

“I’ve felt helpless, Daisy, not knowing what to do, knowing that my fucking father has this damn hold over us. I’ve been angry at myself for not doing more to distance myself from my father earlier, of finding my own way in life instead of sitting back and acting the damn playboy, living off his money. I’m ashamed of that man, Daisy,” I admit.

“That’s in the past now. I believe in you, Dalton. You’ll find your way, we both will. If Sterling truly is able to help us, we can start again, can’t we? We can live our life the waywewant to,” I say, faltering a little at the thought of what’s to come. It won’t be easy, I know that.

“What is it?” he asks, sensing the change in me, the lingering fear.

“Dalton, your father…”

“Listen to me, Daisy. Let me make it perfectly plain. I don’t care about the contract. I don’t care about my father or what hewants. I only care about you, about us. No matter what happens it will only ever be about us.”

I nod. “I do. Ihearyou…” I whisper, smiling through my tears, feeling better than I have in weeks.

“Good,” he replies, his eyes flaring with heat.

“So what now?” I ask.

“Honestly, Daisy, I just want to be with you. I want to lay down next to you and kiss you all night long. I want to hold you in sleep, and wake up with you cradled safely in my arms, and then tomorrow we’re going to face my father together. We’re going to start over, we’re going to begin the rest of our lives. I’ll get a job, any fucking job, and I will work from the ground up. I’ll make you proud.”

“I’m already proud of you Dalton, and I need you too,” I add with a whisper.

As we enter my bedroom a few minutes later, Dalton gently shuts the door behind him, then taking my hand he leads me to the end of the bed. Slowly he begins to undress me, removing every item of clothing until all I have left on is my underwear. His fingertips gently, reverently graze over my skin, tracing lines over my clavicle, down my arms, beneath my rib cage, across my stomach. Gently he caresses me, and I reach up onto my toes, kissing him.

“Lie down on the bed, Daisy,” he says against my lips, his voice low, hoarse, as he begins to undress too.

Climbing onto the mattress, I lay down on the centre of the bed, propping my head up on the pillows as I watch him strip down to his boxers, drinking in every inch of his strong, masculine body. The dark tattoos that I’ve traced with my fingers, and kissed with hungry lips seem to twirl and dance as he inhales deep, steadying breaths.

“Spread your legs, Daisy,” he commands roughly, his gaze heated, hungry, full of so much love.

“Like this?” I ask, sliding my legs apart.

“Just like that,” he rasps out and with a gentle dip of his head, he crawls towards me, his eyes never leaving mine. When his knees press against my inner thighs, he drops back onto his haunches, his hands cupping my knees, his thumbs gently massaging circles against my skin.

My breath hitches, the warmth of his hands, and the softness of his touch making me melt. With slow, deliberate movements, his palms slide higher, his fingers tracing gentle circles over my inner thighs. Then, ever so gently, when he reaches the apex of my thighs, he presses the pad of his thumb against my clit through the lace of my underwear.

“Dalton,” I gasp, feeling my body come to life beneath his touch.

“Too much?”

“Not enough. Don’t stop.”

“I’ve got you, my love,” he replies.

My love.

As he continues to stroke me, softly caressing my clit over the material of my knickers, the slight friction only adds to the intensity, and I feel myself becoming wetter with every swirl of his thumb. My hips rock, my body yearning for him as much as my heart swells from his sweet words, from his love.

He doesn’t move my knickers aside. He simply rubs me, drawing out the most delicious pleasure, until I’m whimpering and moaning. My fingers grip the duvet cover, holding on as my back arches and this coiled tightness begins to build deep inside.

“Dalton, please,” I whimper, my voice trembling as the pleasure intensifies.

Sliding his hands beneath the elastic of my knickers, he pulls them down over my hips as I lift my arse and raise my legs so he can pull them free. Dropping them onto the bed beside me, he adjusts his body between my legs, then lowers his mouth tomy pussy. The feeling of his warm breath against my wet folds makes me shudder, and when his tongue darts out and he licks me, I can’t help but moan his name.

With each swipe of his tongue, I grow more and more aroused, my fingers tangling with his hair as he eats me out. He’s not hurried, he takes it slow, licking gently, over and over again until all I can do is succumb to him, to this pleasure, to him loving me. Gently he sucks on my clit, the tip of his tongue grazing the hardened nub, and I arch my back feeling that beautiful, white-hot heat swarming in my lower belly.

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