Page 56 of I Saw Her First

Goddammit. I grimace as understanding dawns in Weston’s eyes. Yet another mark in the “inexperienced” column.

“Daisy, if you don’t want—”

“Please don’t stop,” I beg. “I really want this with you.”

His deep, gravelly laugh sends a shiver through me. “Good, because I want to be the first man to do this toyou.”

I breathe a relieved laugh, thinking of Violet’s words as we talked about my inexperience:He probably likes it. Is it possible she was right?

His tongue meets my center again, flicking over my clit before dipping inside me. “You taste so damn sweet,” he murmurs against my swollen flesh, tasting me once more. “So fucking good.”

I can hardly hear his words as he works his tongue over me. The way he nips and sucks at my clit sends me to another dimension, and when he gently pushes a finger into me, followed by another, I swear I float off the kitchen island. He has to hold me down, mouth and hands working in tandem as I thrash and buck, gripping his hair, lost in sensation.

He doesn’t let up until I’m slack with pleasure, until I’m boneless with release. I stare at the ceiling, blinking the stars from my vision as my pulse slows, my jaw hanging open in disbelief. I had no idea a man could makethathappen.

When Weston rises from between my thighs, he looks like he’s been mauled. His hair sticks up at all angles and his cheeks are flushed, his beard glistening with my arousal, but he looks as satisfied as I feel. There’s a glassy sheen to his eyes and his mouth curves in a drowsy smile as he drags the back of his hand across it, cleaning himself up.

I laugh, trying to sit up on the marble, my body still twitching with aftershocks. “Wow. That was…”

“Yeah?” There’s a flash of vulnerability in his eyes, like he wants to be sure it was good.

“Uh,yeah. I’ve never, um…” I want to tell him, want him to know what a big deal this is, but I don’t want to further underscore my lack of experience. As he studies me, waiting so patiently, I know I can’t not tell him. “No one has made me come before,” I admit. “Only me.”

“Fuck,” he mutters quietly. I expect he’ll kiss me again, that I’ll get to return the favor or we might go to the bedroom, but instead, he sighs and pulls me into his arms, tight against his chest.

I’m too limp to argue. I burrow my head into his shoulder, breathing him in, letting my eyes close. I’m tired after an early start at work, an afternoon of baking, and, I let myself admit asWes strokes my back, trying to convince myself I wasn’t hoping he’d be happy to see me.

Well, I don’t have to convince myself anymore.

I go to kiss him, to get back to what we were doing, when my stomach emits a loud rumble.

Wes chuckles, drawing back. “Have you had dinner?”

“No.” I smile shyly. “I was too busy baking, and was so nervous about seeing you…”

His fingers brush my cheek, eyes a darker blue than usual. “You never have to be nervous around me, Daisy.”

My heart sighs. I could never have imagined how nice it would be to have him look at me this way, to have him touch me with such affection.

And believe me, I’ve tried.

I lean into his touch, letting my eyes flutter closed, and my stomach protests again.

“Alright.” Wes grins, reaching for a pizza box on the counter. “It’s probably a little cold now, but I’m more than happy to share my birthday dinner with you.”

I rearrange my dress, covering myself up as Wes hoists himself onto the island beside me and lifts the lid on the box. I examine the contents, frowning. He deserves better than cold pizza for his birthday.

“I wish I could cook for you,” I say, reaching for a slice and chewing thoughtfully.

Wes is quiet as he downs a slice of pizza and reaches for another, apparently ravenous. “I can’t remember the last time someone cooked for me,” he murmurs at last.

My chest hurts at this revelation. He’s so kind, so caring, so generous. He deserves so much, and there’s no one to give it to him.

I really hope he’ll let me be the person who can.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” I ask, polishing off my pizza and wiping my hands on a napkin.

Weston’s eyes sparkle as they move over my face. “I don’t have any plans.”

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