Page 31 of All of Me

With a low groan, Drake began to push inside, but he didn’t go very far. The stretch burned, and it grew painful, dragging me out of the fog my brain occupied. It was on the tip of my tongue to say something, to halt, when he drew back slightly to add more lube.

"Fuck," Drake breathed, his voice strained. "You're so tight. So perfect."

But I wasn’t anywhere near perfect. I was starting to see all the ways this could go badly wrong. If I couldn’t do this, if he thought he was hurting me, he would never touch me again.

"You okay?" he murmured, as if sensing I wasn’t.

I nodded, unable to form words. After a moment, I whispered, "I’m okay."

“Yes,” Drake said, “you are.” But I didn’t have time to question what he was doing because, at the same time as he withdrew, his lubed fingers came around again to stroke my cock. I closed my eyes in mortification because I’d softened, but he just whispered me to hush, and his clever fingers soon had me forgetting every worry. He clasped his own cock and stroked himself up and down my crack, reaching my hole and pushing in a little but withdrawing before I worried. In the end, I didn’t seem to know what I wanted more. His hand, his fingers, the tip of his hard cock, or the lips that seemed to find every bit of skin on my back that made me shiver when he kissed it. Everything in me tightened and my cock throbbed. My balls drew up and ached so much they were painful, but in a way I desperately needed.

“Drake,” I begged, not sure whether to press back against his cock, or forward into his hand.

"That's it," Drake growled in my ear, pumping my cock, his own like steel grazing my hole. "Let go. I've got you."

I came with a cry, pushed over an endless edge, falling into pleasure so intense, it seemed to grab my entire body so tightly I never wanted it to let me go.

He gasped, and I felt his rhythm falter as he fell mere seconds after me and followed me down. It took a long few moments for my thoughts to intrude and my throat dried. He’d come, but not inside me. Did that mean he hated it? How had he known it hurt?

Drake tightened his arms and pulled me back against his chest. “This might be your last chance to get out of being stuck with an old man.”

“And it might be your last chance to get out of being stuck with an inexperienced one,” I whispered, my voice catching even though I made an effort to sound okay.

He stilled, then moved, pushing up on one elbow. I tried not to catch his eyes, but he bent and brushed a kiss on my cheek, thenlay back and pulled me over and against him so I was lying on his chest. I was sticky and pretty sure Drake was lying on the damp sheet, but he didn’t seem bothered.

“Not sure what you’ve done before or how far you got, but this isn’t about hurting each other. I’m likely to screw up enough, as you already know from yesterday, without doing it in bed as well.”

I didn’t reply. I didn’t know what to say.

“You’re a gift,” he murmured. “Not sure what I did in a previous life to deserve you, but as long as you want to be here, we have all the time in the world to work out what we both like in bed.” He smirked. “Or out of it.”

I slid my head up and met his gaze. “I want to be here.”

His face softened, but then his smile dimmed. “This isn’t conditional. Pleased don’t ever think you having somewhere to live—” But I settled my fingers on his lips to silence him, then followed it up with a kiss that only got interrupted by scrabbling noises and a soft whine.

We pulled apart and grinned. “You go see to your dog,” Drake said.

I rolled out of bed, grabbed my jeans and a tee, and picked Maxie up, heading for the door and outside because babies only had small bladders, and thought about what he’d said.

I’d probably just had the best night of my life, and I wanted more. I wanted every night to be like that.

I opened the door and jerked in shock at the lady who was just raising her clenched hand to knock on the door, her other hand clutching the hand of a little girl with gray-blue eyes and curly brown hair. “Mr. Shae Turner?”

I nodded, words escaping me. “I’m Carol Benson from children’s services in Jacksonville. May I come in?”

Chapter Twelve

Drake

I heard the social worker just as I was heading to the kitchen to make the coffee and, relieved I’d dragged on some clothes, I went to the door. Shae was standing there looking completely frozen, so I put one hand on his shoulder and extended my other to shake her hand. “Drake Starr. Pleasure to meet you. Please come in.” It seemed to jerk Shae out of his shock, and he stepped back to allow them to come in. “Hi,” I said softly to the little girl, who quite frankly looked terrified. “What’s your name?”

“This is Tamzin Turner, or Tammy,” Carol said, answering my question but looking at Shae. I saw the last name register even as he started shaking his head. “That’s impossible. I never—”

“How about we sit down?” I interrupted, knowing a flustered Shae was just about to deny the possibility of him fathering a child, but I had a sinking feeling I knew what this was, and showed them the sofa and put Shae on coffee duty, knowing he needed to have something to do, took Maxie from him, and let him pee on the grass. I came back inside, got an old plastic mugof Jim’s out of the cupboard and filled it with juice, passing it to Shae to take in with the coffee, then quickly fed Maxie a cold breakfast.

Carol pulled out some paper and crayons from her large purse and I got Tammy a cushion to sit on so she could use the coffee table to rest the paper on.

Carol took the coffee gratefully, pulled out some papers from her purse, and put her glasses on. “I tried to call a few times before I set off, and we don’t normally do this so quickly, but I have three social workers and four temporary foster families out with the flu, so I’m stuck.”

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