Page 46 of Wilt

He doesn’t know. “Steph’s dead, died in an accident. I found your pretty little Thorne under protection of a US Marshal, now deceased. The marshal, not your daughter. I’ve been enjoying her and she’s been offering herself to me, happily.”

“You don’t have her.” He’s repeating himself now, but I can hear the need in his voice. He wants what’s his.

“She goes by the name Rosalind, and she looks like you. Way prettier, but it’s obvious who she belongs to, who made her. My lovely Rose smells and tastes so sweet.”

“I want proof,realproof. I want to see her.”

I start to laugh. “I’ll send a photo.”

“In real time, Wilder.”

Suddenly, I start to smile. “I’m not bringing her to you, Derek. I’m not stupid. You want real time? You’ll have it. Tonight.”

I hang up. Looks like I’m about to get another taste of Rose tonight after all. Getting up, I take my phone and ease open her door. For a moment, my heart slams against my ribs. She’s sleeping, the covers pushed back, and she’s naked except for my torn shirt.

That makes something in me tighten.

Sure, she might not have wanted to sleep naked, but she’s wrapped it around her, half buried in it, like she was breathing in my scent.

I’m immediately hard, although that’s not really anything new around her. She has a way of sliding inside me, and her being naked doesn’t help.

I want to say that’s the reason, the culprit, but I can’t, not entirely. There’s just something about her. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s the enemy’s daughter, a different yet delicious kind of forbidden fruit. I don’t know. I don’t care, I tell myself. I don’t care, not when the end result is the same.

Going over to the bedside table, I set up my phone, getting the angle just right. I adjust the blind a little, bringing it up to let the moonlight spill in. I switch the phone to night view, check the angle once I’ve set it up, and hit record.

She sighs, still asleep, and I crawl up the bed, sliding beneath the covers and pulling her warm, sleeping body into my arms. She’s so soft, skin pure silk, and she smells like heaven, a hint of rose and the subtle sweet spice of her skin. She showered after she left me; her hair is still slightly damp.

I lower my mouth to her neck, nuzzling her as she moans and rolls sleepily into my chest. Kissing her again, I trail my fingers over her breast, one and then the other, lazily playing with her nipples that peak and harden under my touch.

She sighs as her eyelids flutter and Rose whispers my name. “Nikolai.”

My girl says it like the answer to a prayer.

“Rosalind, sweet Rose.” Her mouth seeks mine and I sip from her, soft, teasing kisses that have her melting in my arms. She tastes like sleep and her particular brand of spice, sweetness with a hint of dark, desire mixed with a need to please.

I trail my mouth down and just beneath the covers, I suckle on her tit. “More. God, more…” Her voice is slurred with sleep and lust, and I oblige, drifting my hand lower as I kiss my way up her body, to her throat to suck on her pulse. I push her thighs apart and they widen automatically for me.

Rose is perfect. She’s so soft and without a single defense in place like this. Her hips rise as I dip down, sliding over her clit, working her swollen nub. Whimpering, she pulls at me without force. She’s boneless, hot and wanting. I move from her clit when she’s writhing and undulating those hips and instead, I start to tease the outer lips of her pussy, dipping into her tight hole every now and then until her whimpers, sighs, and moans grow.

“Please, Nikolai, touch me. Please.”

I bite her earlobe and suck hard. “Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me, please.”

“Not yet, pretty Rose,” I whisper. “What do you want?” This time, I kiss her throat again.

She doesn't hold back in her lust and sleep addled state. “You. I want you. Make me come. Please, Nikolai. I need you. Make me come. Finger me.”

“Good girl.” I plunge my fingers inside her, fucking her with a slow place as her hips rise and she turns her face up to mine.

“More, more please.”

I oblige, this time stroking her clit hard, keeping a relentless rhythm her body loves. She starts to shake, the walls of her cunt clamping down on my fingers as she comes, shattering, moaning, crying out my name.

“Nikolai! Oh, God. Oh, I’m coming! Nikolai!”

As she comes down from her orgasm, I take her mouth in a kiss, for show, and then, as she curls into me with a moan of satisfaction, she looks at me. I kiss her hard again, long and deep. “Go back to sleep, Rose.”

---