Page 54 of My Mistake To Make

‘Jesus Christ, Doug. Grow up.’

I start to walk over to the cabins when his strong grip on my wrist stops me. Oh, I like that. He glares at me, his jaw tight as I stare back and try my best to calm the storm rising in me.

‘You’re not going over there.’

‘Yes, I am.’ My voice is weak, a whisper as I try to pull my arm free, but he just uses his hold to pull me toward him.Oh god.

‘Cara, get back in your room.’ He growls at me. Oh, he’s mad. ‘You’re not going over there dressed like that.’

‘You're not my dad.’ Why am I pushing him?

‘I don't want them seeing you like this.’

‘Why not?’

‘Jesus, woman.’ He raises his voice, then pulls me closer and lowers it again. ‘You can’t go over there looking like a fuckin’ wet dream.’

He looks down my body, and I follow his gaze, feeling like I can’t remember how to breathe. I’m wearing nothing but an oversized Chili Peppers tour t-shirt. I mean, I have knickers on, but to the untrained eye, it looks as though the t-shirt is it. I don’t even have shoes on.

‘I don't want anybody but me to see you like this.’

The gravel in his admission makes me shiver, and I raise my gaze back up to his. He looks so angry, but there’s something else, a fire in his eyes that burns so hot.

‘Fuck this.’

Doug’s mouth crushes mine, and he releases my wrist to pick me up, wrapping my legs around his waist and stomping toward my cabin.

I can hardly breathe as he kicks the door closed behind us and sits me on the desk. His tongue rolls against mine in the same way that made me moan the last time he kissed me, and yes—same result tonight.

His rough hands glide up my thighs and push them apart before he yanks me forward on the desk and presses against me.

‘God,’ I whimper, my voice laced with a desperation I’ve never known.

Doug kisses along my jaw, and I drop my head back. My whole body trembles as he moves his lips to my neck, and his hand pushes up under my shirt to my side, his fingers stroking my ribs.

‘Tell me to stop,’ he whispers as he brings his mouth back to mine. His voice is strained, as though the words actually hurt him.

‘What?’ I gasp as he reaches up to massage my breast through the cotton of the shirt.

‘The only way I’m stopping is if you tell me to.’ He kisses me again, harder now, gripping the back of my neck, then my hair, before tightening his fist and pulling my head back.

My mouth falls open as his hovers over it. His eyes are dark and clouded with lust as he waits.

‘Don’t stop.’

‘Fuck.’ He growls up to the ceiling before slamming his mouth to mine once more.

Doug’s hand lowers from my ribs, and I gasp as his fingers glide over the cotton between my legs. He circles his fingers, massaging me, and I breathe hard at the sensations.

‘Your panties are soaked.’ He grips the waistband of my knickers with one hand and lifts me with the other, just enough to yank them down and pull them off. Then he’s back, kissing me as the rough denim of his jeans and the hard length beneath them presses against my bare skin.

Doug leans back, gazing down at me as his hands push up the inside of my thighs, and his thumbs find the wet, throbbing flesh that aches for his touch. I breathe hard, the sound filling the quiet space as he groans.

‘So wet.’ He parts me with his fingers and explores, spreading the moisture I am very aware of. ‘Do you want to come for me, Cara?’

‘Yes.’

A slight smirk turns up the corners of his mouth, and he slides one finger inside me.

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