Oakley.
Her cheeks are flushed a deep crimson as she watches me, her lips slightly parting as our gazes remain locked.
I swallow hard and grab the black thong, kneeling before her.
The position makes it impossible not to imagine forcing my mouth to her center while I make her scream my name. I push the thoughts from my mind and lightly lift her wounded leg first.
Eva winces, proving she couldn’t have dressed alone. Bending over would have been trouble enough, especially with her bruised ribs.
I slide the fabric over her left ankle and then her right before gently pulling them up her thick thighs. My cock is hard and throbbing with need as my fingers skim over her soft porcelain skin. When I get them to the top of her thighs, Eva grabs my hands in hers, eyes wide. Her tongue wets her bottom lip. “I think I can handle it from here, sir,” she murmurs.
I clench my jaw, wishing she hadn’t stopped me. All I want is to slide my finger through her center and feel how wet she is. The way she shudders at my touch is proof enough that she’s aroused. Add to that her erratic breathing as her chest rises and falls violently and the red flush of her cheeks. I sense she’s probably dripping wet for me.
I clear my throat, trying to focus. “Of course.” I remove my hands from her panties and clench my fists by my side, turning my attention to the skirt.
Eva winces, squirming to get her thong on. They differ from the pink lace panties she wore the day she arrived.
“Ready?” I ask, holding the skirt.
She nods, sucking in a deep breath. “Yes, sir.”
I wish she wouldn’t be so fucking polite right now. Ignoring the swell in my cock as I crouch in front of her again, I lift her left foot, sliding the skirt through it, before lifting her right and doing the same.
Eva winces again, but I can’t focus on that. All I can focus on is not tearing the thong and skirt off and burying my head between her thick thighs. My impulses are so primal that it feels like they’re trying to burn me alive from the inside out. I’m on the edge of losing control.
I allow my fingers to skate over her skin more this time as I drag her skirt up slowly, needing to feel her for as long as I can.
She gasps quietly as my fingers coast over her inner thighs deliberately. Her wide, innocent eyes shoot to mine, which snaps me out of it as I let go of the skirt. She wiggles it the rest of the way, zipping it on the side.
“Can you handle it from here?” I say, glancing at the bra and blouse.
She swallows hard. “I don’t think I will put the bra on. My ribs are sore.”
I nod in reply and grab the bra, stuffing it back into her bag. I can see the outline of her nipples in the hospital gown that she’s wearing. At least the sweater will hide them from my view.
“Do you need help with the blouse and sweater?”
A part of me wants her to say yes. The idea of seeing her beautiful, puckered nipples makes me mindless with need.
She shakes her head. “No, sir. I can manage. If you wait outside, I’ll give you a shout when I’m ready.”
I stand there battling my primal urges to take this girl here and now. “Of course.” I turn and walk out of the room, shutting the door behind me. I rest my back against it, pinching the bridge of my nose.
What the fuck have I gotten myself into now?
Eva Carmichael is the epitome of innocent temptation, and I’m not sure I can resist taking a bite out of the forbidden fruit, fruit which I intend to destroy along with her family. My desire for her is a complication I don’t need.