Until I’m coming on his t-shirt.
Only then he slides me down his body with hooded eyes, takes my flower and takes me out on a date.
First stop is the ice cream parlor, all the way in the college town of Middlemarch. It’s almost deserted, with only a handful of people inside the store. When he asks for a vanilla cone for himself, I chirp in and tell the guy behind the counter that my guy will take a chocolate cone with all the chips and sprinkles and trappings, just like me.
When Arrow gives me a look, I say, “You wanna be boring all your life or do you wanna be awesome like me?”
At which, Arrow grabs the back of my neck and lays a hard kiss on my lips, right in front of the counter guy.
Once we have our ice creams, we go outside and I straddle the Ducati that he parked on the empty street, and lick my cone.
At first he’s simply leaning against the motorcycle, his face both lit up and shadowed under the insufficient street light as he watches me lick my ice cream. Then he throws away his cone and straddles the bike too.
Eyes heavy, he grabs my waist and yanks me over to him, my juices probably streaking a path across his leather seat. “I ruined your seat.”
He drapes my bare legs over his powerful thighs, opening them up. “Not yet, you haven’t.”
Before I can say anything else, he sticks his hand under the jacket that I’m wearing and in turn, under the hem of my skirt and kisses me with ice-cream cold lips.
Shivering, I kiss him back, forgetting about the cone in my hand.
I jump when I feel something on my pussy.
Something other than his fingers.
Something like my flower.
The flower I gave him back at St. Mary’s that he pocketed, right where his dead heart is.
Arrow is touching me with it.
I don’t know when he got it out and when he snuck it under my skirt but he’s sliding the flower along my slit, twirling it over my clit.
“Arrow…” I moan, my thighs trying to snap closed, but they can’t because he has them trapped over his thighs and around his hips.
“Now there’s a flower between your legs, isn’t there?” he murmurs, chuckling, blowing hot, sweet breath over my lips as he plays with my core and again, doesn’t let me go until I come.
Until I ruin his gift and his fingers with my juices.
Until I ruin my fingers too, with sticky, melted ice cream.
Then he takes me away again.
He takes me everywhere I want to go.
Until I tell him to find us a secluded spot because I wanna suck him off and lick him like my ice cream cone.
We stop under a rusty bridge in Bardstown, and in under five seconds, I have him against a brick pillar and me, on my knees, looking up at him.
I reach up and massage his hard cock through his jeans. I rub my cheek on the imprint of his dick, feeling his inferno-heat on my skin, as he looks down at me.
“I’m always so cold, Arrow,” I tell him. “You’re the only one who makes me feel warm. You’re my sun.”
His jaw becomes hard and cruel almost, his hands fisted at his sides. “So are you going to thank me for it?”
I reach up and kiss one, his fist I mean.
I kiss his knuckles, lick them, trying to soften them up, and it works.
His fingers open up.
They get hold of my jaw, forcing me to look up. “Unzip me.”
Of course, I jump to do his bidding.
When I’m done, he pushes down his jeans and a second later, I’m looking at his cock, his beautiful cock with a pretty arch and that vein running underneath, all fat and juicy for me.
“Your dick is so pretty,” I whisper as I stare at it with wide eyes, my knees grinding on the concrete, my nails raking up and down his partially-covered thighs.
His stomach tightens up and his pretty dick lurches. “Pretty.”
“Uh-huh. So, so pretty.”
He fists my hair and pulls at it, making me arch my neck, my back, making me lose my balance and fall against his thigh. “Pretty is not the word I’d call my dick, but I’ll give you a pass tonight.”
I clench my thighs. “Why?”
“Because you’re going to put it in your mouth and suck it like your life depends on it. And because I’m going to fuck your pouty lips like I fucked your pouty pussy last night. And when you struggle to take me in, because I’m so big and fat for your innocent schoolgirl mouth, you’ll make me blow. Right on your tongue, and when I do that, you’re going to swallow it all, aren’t you? You’re going to swallow everything I give you like a good girl. So you can call it whatever the fuck you want, baby, because all I care about is sliding into your mouth and riding it to heaven,” he says with clenched teeth and flushed cheeks, all dominating and large like the sun he is.