Her kiss, her hand on me, gripping my swollen helm until I moan. The sweet smell of her. The softness of her skin against mine.
I know she’s mine. My claim is well and truly staked.
But a man needs to know if his woman wants the same. Not just a roll on the couch, either. I’m talking forever here.
“I… I love you, Foxx,” she finally says once we both come up for air. I’m already running the real risk of not waiting for another second to plant my seed in her.
Or risk planting it up the inside of her leg, all over her naked body, if this keeps up.
“Sorry, what?” I ask, taking a moment to comprehend what I’ve just heard.
“I… I love you,” she whispers, almost sounding more like a question now but only because my dumb ass can’t see a miracle unfolding, even when it’s right in his lap.
“Oh, Mandy,” I groan, holding her close and kissing her again.
I feel the weight of her emotions. Tortured because I can’t even say it back to her.
But why?
Why can’t I just tell her I love her back?
Good question.
Strong silent type, remember?
That much is true. I don’t want to seem like I’m needy or clingy when it comes to Mandy. My obsession with her isn’t about me. It’s about protecting and looking after her in every possible way. Plus, if I’m honest, deep down, I don’t think I’ve ever been taught how to feel that. Let alone show what that word even means.
I’d never found the right girl. Never had a reason to even think about being in love. It’s not part of my programming. I guess that’s why I’m so primitive with Mandy, so overprotective.
So obsessed even.
I feel like I could show her or spend so much time or money with and on her. But hearing her tell me she loves me and me just freezing up?
I guess maybe both of us have some adjusting to do. It’s just not something I expected to hear from her so soon, either.
I only ever thought of how I feel as just a feeling. The only word I’ve had so far for it is Mandy.
“You like kids?” I hear myself ask suddenly, shifting the topic and wondering where the hell that came from, but I’m relieved when Mandy giggles.
She shivers another breath and glances at my still dripping erection, all of it for her. Finally, she remarks that I certainly don’t waste any time.
“I think kids are great,” she replies. “Do I want kids? I think it would depend on who the dad is,” she smiles with a knowing look.
I growl with pleasure to myself, and she asks me the same question. “What about you? Do you want kids someday?”
“Only with you, Mandy,” I tell her truthfully.
Her expression changes, and she’s shocked but in a good way. I think being point-blank with her is what she wants, but maybe she feels I’m getting just a little bit ahead of myself.
Talking kids when I haven’t even claimed her properly. But she needs to know how I feel. Even if I’m struggling to tell her ‘I love you’ right now.
“I wanted to flip you onto your back or bend you over the nearest counter the first time I saw you. And I’ve never felt or even thought about anyone else that way. Ever,” I let her know.
She tries to look shocked, but her own little smile betrays her and she explains how she felt the same way.
“I still do,” she adds in a husky tone, nowhere near the shy girl I brought home from the hospital anymore.
But still a virgin.
For now.
My virgin.
The thought sends a ripple of fresh desire for her right through me, and apart from wondering just how long she wants to wait, I reason that any wait will be worth it.
But it has to be soon, surely. I can see how ready she is, and that’s not a medical opinion. Just a fact.
“This is yours, Mandy. All you need to do is say when,” I tell her, gripping my arousal with a firm hand at the base and flexing it for her, moaning when she makes an involuntary sound.
Her hands reach for it again, and once she feels just how insanely hard I am, she looks torn.
“I want it, Foxx, I really do…,” she shivers. Her breath trembles as much as her hands.
“But?” I ask, grunting suddenly. Having to clench my jaw as she gives me another little squeeze before she forces her hands back.
“…But I was always taught not to be too forward. At least on a first date,” she teases me.
“Hey,” I protest, smiling. “Last night at dinner was our first date,” I remind her.
She giggles some, nodding in agreement as she looks down at what I have for her again, her eyes widening.