dad is gone. Who has protected her?
I'm not a violent man, but as the silence settles over us, my fists clench, wanting to hurt whoever's hurt her. Why would someone have this amazing woman in their arms, take her most prized possession, and leave her?
"Tell me," I growl.
"No." Her voice is again soft. "I've never...I'm a virgin." She looks up. "I'm sorry if that makes me seem like a child, if that makes you not want me. I'm not experienced like the women you're probably used to."
The relief is intoxicating. I pull her closer, my dick aching to take away that title, not just once but for the rest of our lives. "No." I caress her cheek with my now-relaxed knuckles. "It doesn't make you seem like a child. It makes you seem like a gift. My gift."
She nods. "I want to be yours. I've never had sex, but I've thought about it, fantasized about it."
My mind goes to the sex therapist I saw years ago and how she encouraged exploration of fantasies. While her advice didn’t change the downward spiral of my first marriage, the meaning resonates with me. Maybe it wasn’t the advice but my partner.
The tip of my dick moistens, and I hesitate with my next question. As it is, I'm about to come just by rubbing against her. If I add thinking about her fantasies, surely, I'll blow. I can't help myself. "Do you ever touch yourself when you think about it—when you fantasize?"
The shyness from before lessens as she meets me eye to eye. "Yes, and believe it or not, you're the one in my fantasies."
Fuck!
My eyes open wider. "Me? Why me?"
"Because” —she reaches for my cock and rubs— “I remember you. I've never wanted a boy. I've dreamt of a man, a man who will teach me and show me. I've fantasized about you. It was probably wrong, but you were always the man of my dreams."
I reach for her hand. I do it because I like the feel of it in mine but also because I'm about to shoot my load right here, right now. If she keeps rubbing my dick, it will be over before it starts, and that's not exactly the manly thing to do.
"I want to take you inside the house and make you mine." I kiss her knuckles. "But if I do, you need to understand that this isn't a one-and-done deal. I’m not that kind of man. I've been patiently waiting. I've watched you. I remember your smile and carefree air. I remember how you brought the sun with you everywhere you went. I want to see that in your eyes again. Sophie, if I fuck you tonight, you'll be mine forever."
She doesn't speak, looking at where our hands are intertwined. And then only her eyes move to mine. "Take me, Matt. Help me remember what it's like to feel good."
Sophie
As Matt takes my hand and leads me through his house, I fight the feeling that it is all a dream. His hand is warm and possessive. The scent of his cologne fills my nose with spice and the perfect amount of pine and musk. It's manly yet not overpowering. His broad shoulders are right in front of me, wider than I remembered, wider than any of the boys from my high school. I can still taste his kiss, sweet with a hint of alcohol, something strong and intoxicating. And I hear his shoes upon the marble steps as we move up the huge staircase. Yet I feel as though I'm floating. His feet are hitting the floor, but I have to look down to be sure mine are too.
How can this be happening to me?
Before I can overthink it, Matt opens two large doors to the biggest bedroom I've ever seen. The king-sized bed seems small in comparison. One wall is filled with windows, and in the windows is a door leading to a balcony overlooking the bay. As he releases my hand and walks toward the windows, I turn a full circle, taking in the woodwork and custom artistry. I've never seen such understated luxury.
"Matt?"
He stills as he reaches for a switch. "Yes?"
"Is this real?"
He pushes a switch causing the windows to change to an opaque shade. Though there are no curtains, I'm certain that what he did closed out the outside world, making this just about us.
My breathing hitches as he turns. Each step toward me is predatory, like a jungle beast about to capture