Page 8 of The Gift that Keeps On Giving

Cameron and Dean.

Dean strokes a hand up my throat, his touch trailing higher until he can rub the pad of his thumb side to side on my bottom lip. “That makes a lot of sense after what you’ve been through.” He shakes his head. “But I still think someone is going to try and snatch you up one day soon. And I’m sure I’ll hate his fucking guts.”

I send him up a smirk. “Well, if I happen to find a man who leaves me alone, doesn’t make me cook and stays quiet while I read, I’ll make surenotto invite you to the wedding.”

“Thank you,” he chuckles. “Yes, please spare me.”

“You had a big, beautiful wedding, didn’t you?”

Dean nods. “A double wedding. Obviously,” he says dryly. “I agreed to it, as long as they kept that idiot on the other side of the banquet hall.”

“Dean,” I admonish, slapping his chest.

“Sorry.” His jaw pops once, then he turns me back around to face the green valley, his strong body crowding me up against thestone wall, my breath catching when I feel his hard ridge against my bottom. “I don’t want to talk about him. I want to focus on you.”

“I like having your focus on me,” I murmur, pushing up on my toes to lock my buttocks more securely to his lap. “Do you like the way I feel?”

His groan sends a warm shiver down my spine. “You have no idea, baby.”

“Just remember there are people around.”

“I’m incredibly aware of that.” His laughter is pained. “I think maybe this is my wife’s idea of a cruel joke. Sending me to a place where I can’t touch you how I want.” I can sense him checking our surroundings, his hips tilting needfully. “Most people are on the other side of the observation deck.” His hand slips down between my lower body and the wall…and I gasp when he cups my sex through the pleats of my skirt. “Let me just get a little feel, Ruby. I never got to feel you here. Goddamn, I’ve thought of putting my cock here so many times.”

His slowly circling fingertips feel incredible, even through the material of my skirt and the white silk of my panties. “I thought about it, too,” I whisper, blushing.

“Did you?”

“Mhmm. I felt so guilty about it.”

“You were too much of a good girl, weren’t you?” His fingers move beneath my dress, teasing the silk barrier of my panties with the tip of his middle finger. Sliding it up and down along my damn seam. “My Ruby wasn’t a rule breaker.”

“I’m still not,” I say, grinding gently on his lap. “I have permission.”

His harsh breath is stirring my hair. “Did you get excited? When she asked you to service her husband for three days?”

I bite my lip to trap a moan. “I might have gotten a tiny bit wet.”

He bites off a curse, the entirety of his hand cupping my sex now, molding it in his palm like I’m his plaything. In a sense, that’s exactly what I am. If I’m being honest with myself, that’s part of what’s turning me on the most. “Not such a good girl after all, huh?” Dean says, delving his fingers inside my panties, groaning in my ear when he feels how the contact with his body has affected me, along with the illicit conversation. “Oh God, it’s even sweeter than I imagined it would be.” His index finger rides through the damp valley, starting at my entrance, then slowly, slowly dragging to my clit. “Damn. Did you get this pussy waxed for me, Ruby?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, that’s so hot.” His middle and ring finger begin a soft, targeted assault of my clit, working it clockwise. Luxurious strokes that make my bones tremble, then liquify. “I’m crazy to ask you this, but I’ll regret it if I don’t…”

My inner thighs are already beginning to feel like jelly, a knob turning tighter and tighter below my belly button. I don’t touch myself frequently at all. No one else has ever touched me between my legs, either. It’s like I’ve been waiting for this treatment for six years, my body secretly crying out for something it couldn’t have. “Ask m-me.”

“Would you…call me Daddy for the next three days?”

“Yes.”

The word bursts out of me, as though that slick flesh he’s touching so reverently already knew the questionandthe answer. Has known it ever since I tutored him in the library while he devoured me with his eyes, his frame a full foot taller than mine. Making me feel so dainty. “That feels so good, Daddy.”

“Oh Jesus Christ.” His erection throbs against me. “I can’t believe this is real.”

“It’s real. Rub me faster,” I gasp. “P-please.”

“I’ve got you, baby,” he rasps, dragging his tongue up the side of my neck and latching onto my ear. “Drip that young come right into my hand. Right where it belongs.”

I’m struck by a bolt of pleasure, my backside jerking back into his lap, my thighs shaking around his hand. The tension inside of me tightens, then snaps, the muscles between my legs working, working, pulsing, moisture seeping out and along his fingers.

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