25. Remington

TWENTY-FIVE

REMINGTON

From the ruffled state of her loose golden curls to her delicate ankles adorned with bows, she's breathtaking. A captivating image of sexy and sweet that I'll remember for a lifetime. Each time I glance her way—my eyes continuously starving for more of her—I'm struck all over again. Temporarily rendered speechless and incapable of doing anything more than marveling over how brightly she shines. Full of gratitude and awe because she's with me. She's chosen me. She loves me. And God, how I love her.

Parked in the makeshift lot, Scarlet takes my hand after I engage the brake, bringing my palm to her mouth. She presses kiss after kiss along the roughened spots, a hot shiver racing down my spine with each one. As each callus is touched and soothed by her lips, she turns my hand over and kisses my knuckles before clasping me between her much smaller hands, my fingers reaching well over hers and the width spilling out equally far as she uses her fingers to spread mine.

Even in the dim light of the nearby lamppost, her eyes sparkle as she looks at me, that soft smile gently tugging at her pink lips.

Bringing our hands between her breasts, her eyes flutter closed as she breathes in the static charge filling the air around us, murmuring, "In case I forget when this is all over, thank you for loving me first."

Pulling one of her hands from mine, I kiss the inside of her wrist and bring her fingers up to my neck, seeking out the rapid flutter of my pulse.

"As long as you can reach out and feel this, this will never be over. I'm happy to love you first, but loving you last is what I really want."

"How did I get so lucky?"

Moving her hand to wrap around the back of my neck, I lean over the console, and with my lips a hair's breadth away from hers, say, "Baby girl, I've been asking myself that every day since I got injured."

As I kiss her, the timid sounds she always tries to hold back at the start drift into my ears, her dainty whimper for more opening her up to me. The first touch of her tongue to mine has me groaning, the possessive need inside of me stirring awake and bidding me to shape and mold every part of her so she'll only ever fit with me.

When she grows louder, her fingers tightening at the nape of my neck, I begin to fumble around for her seatbelt. The moment the click of release breaks the sounds of our rapid breathing, I haul her over the center and into my lap. With her legs on either side of my thighs and her back hunched so she fits within the car's confines, I release my own restraint and stab the button to move my seat all the way back from the steering wheel.

It's reckless having her in my car like this. We're out in the open where anyone can happen upon us. See her like this, in a way that I would never want to share with someone else let alone with the world. Just feet from my car is a parking attendant directing the arriving cars into the appropriate lanes, other couples and families getting in and out of their own vehicles, groups of friends weaving through the lanes to the fairgrounds. And yet I can't stop.

I'm consumed with need for her. My fingers working their way up the layers upon layers of her bridal-like skirt without thought. Her own fumbling with my belt as her kiss turns hungry and needy, lips slipping off to drift along my jaw towards my neck where they seal around my pulse.

With a short shout of triumph as she yanks the buckle free, already working on the button and zipper of my jeans, I reach my destination between her thighs and find the small triangle of fabric covering her pussy damp.

"Always so wet for me," I marvel, tracing my finger over her panties and between her lips.

As I press the pad of my finger against her clit, she moans, "Daddy, I need you. Please," the sound so pretty and melodic to my ears.

"You have me, baby."

Pushing her hand down my boxers and pulling my cock free, she circles her palm over my head, wetting her hand as she says, "I need more. I can't get through our date like this," making my head slam into the headrest, a sharp hiss passing through my teeth as her small hand encircles my dick and begins to pump down. Stroking back up my shaft and twisting her wrist as she moves up the flare of my head before retreating, she begs, "I have to come, and I need your cum on my pussy to do it."

"Fuuuck, how can I tell you no?"

Giving me a hard kiss then looking down at where she's jerking me off, she smiles, "I'm counting on the fact that you usually can't."

"No Scar, I can't deny you a single thing," I answer truthfully. Pulling my hand away from her desperate cunt, I instruct, "Lift your skirt up and push your panties to the side. Show Daddy that pretty little pussy of yours," taking over jerking myself off. As she does what I command, I purr, "My perfect girl. You listen to me so well."

It's fast and dirty, my release coming within minutes of starting. The sort of frantic and rough stimulation meant for relief over pleasure. A drive to come merely for the sake of helping soothe her ache and clearing the way for stamina to reign later.

Tugging on my shaft, I aim for her opening as the first shot of my cum releases. My name on her lips is breathy as another rope lands on her, this time on her clit. Going higher as I wring the last bit of release from my dick, I hit her abdomen, my hand reaching out to begin rubbing it into her skin as I work myself down.

Around my arm, Scarlet bunches her skirt into one overflowing hand and reaches between her thighs with the other. Her brow is pinched, lips parted, and cheeks glowing as she swipes her fingers down her pussy, pushing my come inside her.

"Yes," she gasps, hips rolling forward to chase her retreating fingers.

As I watch, I'm certain I will never get enough of her. Not of her sounds, not of her expressions. I'll always crave more of her body's responses, of how confident and free she is when seeking pleasure in my arms, stunningly uninhibited.

The most addicting part of it all is how she always seeks further connection with me. No matter if it's my touch or hers bringing her body pleasure, if we're going slow and passing hours of time or fast and racing against a clock to finish, there's always this moment of calm when we're together. A moment where she reaches for me, lacing our fingers together or drawing me in closer, where her eyes and mine connect and are unable to look away from each other. It's a moment of welcomed vulnerability when I can feel it—feel that it's not simply lust masquerading as love between us but the real, soul altering thing.

"Remi," she sighs, the sound beckoning my gaze from where I'm watching her use my cum as lubricant for her play.

Scarlet's eyes are glassy when I look up, her teeth harshly digging into her lip.

"Baby, what's wrong?" I ask, cupping her cheek and catching the lone tear that slips free.

Shaking her head as she bounces in my lap, a tell tale sign she's about to come, she pants, "Nothing."

"Then why are you?—"

"Because I love you," she rushes out, the hand that's full of airy tulle letting go as she places hers over where mine still rests low on her stomach. "I love you and I want forever with you, Remi."

Crashing her lips to mine, her tongue pushing into my mouth, she comes with a long moan that I eagerly swallow, threading my fingers through her hair to hold the back of her head and keep her against me as her body turns limp.

Slowly lavishing her with retreating kisses as she catches her breath in the space between us, I whisper, "I love you too, baby girl."