"What the fuck? Do you like Lilith?" She spat at me. I flinched back at her sharpness. Who pissed in her tootie fruties?
"Of course not. We're just really close. That's all," I shook my head at her accusations. I could never. Lili wasn't someone I would ever date.
"Then what the hell was that? You seem to care a fucking lot about her," she rolled her eyes, walking to the bed before taking a seat on it and crossing her arms. I sighed, going closer to Dakota.
"I practically raised her. I'm overprotective. Think of me as Uncle Killian," I chuckled. She looked up at me with her hazel eyes. I held back a groan. She was begging for it huh? I sat next to her on the white bed.
"That's cute, Uncle Killian. Aren't you a bit young to be an uncle?" She wondered.
"I'm thirty eight,” I deadpanned. She choked on air or something before composing herself again. She whispered something I didn’t catch.
“Sorry what was that?” I asked, trying to hear what she said without heading into her memories. It would be extremely easy, but I want to respect her privacy.
“Ten,” she whispered again. I rolled my eyes at her, crossing my arms before showing her who’s boss.
“No, thank you very much. I’m nine inches. I’m a part of the 0.7% of men who have a nine incher. Take that,” I huffed, turning away from her. She choked some more while laughing.
“No, prostidude. I mean that I’m ten years younger than you, grandpa,” she insulted me, sliding away a bit. I grabbed ahold of her wrist, stopping her. She gasped and looked at me. It was then that I noticed the wet patch on her shirt. It was displaying her lacy black bra to wandering, searching eyes. Lord, my eyes were as hungry as can be. They soaked up every curve the shirt made as it clung to her.
“You didn’t have a problem with my age when you were kissing me,” I smirked, pulling her wrist. She scooted back over, leaving a couple inches worth of space in between us.
“That was a slip of judgement,” came her breathy reply. Her hair framed her face perfectly, ending at her shoulders. I felt the need to tug a curl again. It hit me like a truck. I need to do it.
I brought my hand up, aiming to tug her curl. She saw it coming and slapped my hand away, shooting me a glare. I raised my hands in a surrender.
“Don’t touch my curls,” she hissed, scooting away once more. I rolled my eyes at her behavior.
“Don’t move away. Distance creates problems,” I groaned, grabbing her wrist before pulling her again. This time, she was closer than before. This was then I noticed the front strands on bitch sides of her face were lighter than the rest of her hair.
“Did you dye only the front strand of your hair?” I skeptically questioned her.
“Don’t judge. I didn’t know if I’d like it or not. I only wanted to do a little bit to see if it was right for me,” she murmured. I leaned a bit closer as she leaned back.
“Do you take everything out for a test run before you commit?” I asked, now noticing her lips. I really wanted to kiss her. I wonder if she’ll let me.
“Not everyone... I mean everything. Sometimes I know if I want to commit or not just by seeing it,” she slid back, laying down as I crawled on top of her.
What am I doing? She could be dangerous for all I know. She could be playing me. I can’t do this. Not after... her.
“Stop overthinking. I can see the wheels turning in your head,” she mumbled and grabbed the front of my shirt, closing the two inch gap between our lips. They moved in sync, creating a perfect fit. She was my missing piece.
She let out a quiet moan before trying to grind her hips against mine. I held her hips down so they didn’t touch mine. A whine left her lips as I peppered small kisses down her neck.
“No, if we do that then there’s no going back. I don’t have the self control most people do,” I strained to get out from how she wiggles against my body as my kisses got lower to the hem of her goddamn v-neck. What a stupid, but blessed thing it was.
“Why not? We’re two consenting adults,” she huffed, pressing her chest towards me in an arch. That almost took everything out of me. I almost let go of every ounce of control I had.
“Yes, but I don’t want our first time to be the exact same day we met,” I clenched my jaw, running my left hand up her shirt and using it to cup her right breast in my hands. Jesus, what size was she?
“Killian,” she moaned out my name. My fucking name. What the hell? Stop. No, I can’t. I’m going to lose it. I haven’t had someone in over a decade. The blue balls were catching up to me. My hand could never compare to her.
“Don’t fucking say my name like that again if you know what’s best for you,” I hissed out, letting my eyes shut for a minute while I regained my composure.
“Maybe I want to,” she leaned up to grab my lisp with hers again. As she was doing that, she used her right hand to guide my left hand lower.
“No,” I stopped her, getting up to leave. I fixed myself and turned to see her. She was laying on the bed with her shirt halfway up and her lips slightly swollen.
“I’ll be back at a later date to finish this, but for now, I can’t. Not yet. I hope you’ll wait for me, Dakota. I know I’d wait for you, no matter the circumstances,” I nodded my head at her and left the room and a flustered Dakota. I really am going to need a cold shower now.