Page 20 of Protected By the Single Dad Sheriff

"Isabella," I say gently, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "We can stop right now. No expectations, no disappointment. We can just sleep."

"No," she says firmly, surprising me with her certainty. "That's not what I want. I'm telling you this because I want you to know that this—" she gestures between us, "—is my choice. My first real choice about my own body, my own desires." Her hand comes up to cup my cheek. "I want you, Jake. I've never been more sure of anything."

The weight of her trust, her vulnerability, nearly overwhelms me. "Are you certain?"

"Completely." She leans forward, pressing her lips to mine in a kiss that erases any remaining doubt.

I ease her back onto the bed, cradling her head as it meets the pillow. My hands shake slightly as I remove my own shirt, her half-lidded eyes following my movements, drinking in every detail. When I reach for my belt buckle, her hand stops me.

"Let me," she whispers, fingers fumbling slightly with the leather strap.

I guide her gently, helping her unfasten the belt, unbutton my jeans. When she tugs them down my hips, I kick them off the rest of the way, leaving me in just my boxers. Her eyes widen slightly at the visible evidence of my desire, and a flush spreads across her cheeks.

"We'll go slow," I promise, lowering myself beside her. "And we can stop anytime. Just say the word."

She nods, then surprises me by taking my hand and placing it on her breast.

"Teach me," she says simply.

The request sends a surge of heat through me. I bend to kiss her, keeping it gentle, exploratory, as my hand caresses the soft weight of her breast. When my thumb brushes across her nipple, she gasps into my mouth, arching into the touch.

I trail kisses down her throat, across her collarbone, taking my time, learning the landscape of her body. When my mouth replaces my hand on her breast, she bites her lip to stifle a moan, her fingers threading through my hair.

"Is this okay?" I murmur against her skin.

"More than okay," she breathes.

Encouraged, I continue my path downward, pausing to press kisses to the soft curve of her stomach, the jut of her hipbone. When I settle between her thighs again, I glance up, seeking final permission.

She nods, eyes heavy-lidded with desire.

I start slowly, pressing gentle kisses to her inner thighs, gradually working my way inward. When I finally taste her, her hips lift off the bed in surprise and pleasure. I place a steadying hand on her stomach, holding her in place as I explore her with my tongue.

Isabella's hands fly to her mouth, stifling the sounds she's making. I glance up to see her eyes squeezed shut, both palms pressed against her lips. The sight sends a fresh wave of desire through me—her trying so desperately to be quiet, to not wake my daughters down the hall.

I double my efforts, circling her most sensitive spot with my tongue before drawing it between my lips. Her thighs tremble on either side of my head, her breathing growing more ragged by the second. When I slide a finger inside her, she gasps against her hands, her body clenching around it.

"Okay?" I whisper.

She nods, hips moving against my hand as I establish a rhythm, adding a second finger when her body relaxes enough to accept it. The combination of my mouth and hand soon has her writhing beneath me, her efforts to stay quiet growing more desperate as she approaches the edge.

I curl my fingers, finding the spot that makes her back arch off the bed, and focus my attention there. Her free hand grips my hair almost painfully, holding me exactly where she needs me. The sharp tug sends a jolt of pleasure-pain through me, my hard cock straining against my boxers.

When she comes, it's with a muffled cry against her palm, her body pulsing around my fingers, thighs clamping around my head. I work her through it gently, easing off as the aftershocks subside.

"Jake," she gasps when she can speak again. "That was... I never knew..."

I press a final kiss to her inner thigh before moving up to lie beside her. Her face is flushed, eyes bright, hair a tangled mess against my pillow. She's never looked more beautiful.

"We can stop here," I tell her, meaning it despite the almost painful state of my arousal. "That can be enough for tonight."

She reaches for me, pulling me down for a kiss. When she tastes herself on my lips, she makes a small sound of surprise that quickly turns to renewed desire.

"I want more," she whispers against my mouth. "I want all of you."

I reach for the nightstand drawer, fumbling for the box of condoms I keep there—remnants of an optimism I'd long since abandoned.

"Let me help," Isabella says, taking the packet from my trembling fingers. She opens it, then looks at me with a mixture of determination and vulnerability. "Show me how."

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