Page 373 of My Sweet Dollie, You Have to Love Me
My mouth dries, too, and I fall back, my butt landing firmly on the springy mattress.
“Chuc—”
“Please, don’t say his name. Not while I’m hard for you.”
I nod, accepting one of his boundaries while getting ready to push another.
I force myself up, moving closer to him. And with my hands back on his boxers, I say, “Let me try this. Let me help you forget him. Let me make it so you’ll only ever think of me. And if it doesn’t work, I’ll never push this again. Please…”Let me help you escape him.
Swallowing down his nerves, he just stares at me.
“Okay.” The word is almost soundless. The next, loud in the room as I lower myself down. “Do you wanna go and get some protection?”
“Not with you. You said it’s fine. I trust you. Now, trust me.”
CHAPTER 83
Ambrose—present day
“Okay,” I breathe out, that thing in my chest racing so hard it feels ready to explode.
I shouldn’t feel sick—I didn’t when touching her—when kissing her earlier. All those feelings faded out when I accepted this is what we had to be.
“Tell me you want me,” she requests, her teeth pressing into the fullness of her bottom lip. Her hands frame my cock, still in my shorts. Her breath kisses me through them, and I twitch, gazing down at her and all the seduction in her eyes.
There’s no rational way of denying I want her.
“I want you.”
Those words guide her down. I watch every move, focusing on her pretty tits and how her arms push them together as she guides me, still in my shorts, into position. I wait for her to drag them down over my hips, but her mouth meets with the material, sucking gently through the cotton.
And it feels… good.
Too fucking good, until my eyes roll, and picture something else. A middle-aged man with a beer-induced gut and white paint on his face.
He isn’t fucking here.
He isn’t fucking touching me.
I open my eyes in time to see Dollie’s soft stare on my very tense body. A gentle rub across my stomach and up my chest encourages me to breathe. She hums something against me, and it sounds something like a song. It calms me.
Linking our fingers, I keep her hand on me.
Her tongue works me through the fabric. My heart hammers beneath her touch, her fingers stretching and retracting in a way that comforts me.
Another hum and a long lick have me feeling some kind of way, and I lift my hips from the bed.
Her free hand moves to my balls, and that gets me moaning out her name.
Another lick, then those perfect full lips wrap around me, suckling up along my shaft through the shorts.
She moves from base to tip, kissing me reverently, to the point that I want to rip my shorts to pieces because they are getting in the way of us.
Her tongue dances around the head, sucking on it until I’m twitching in her fucking mouth.
A low giggle interrupts her song vibrating against the very fucking sensitive spot.
Oh god, I can’t last another fucking minute.
