Darkest Before Dawn (A Guardian's Diary Book 1)(19)

“It’s not drugged,” he assured me as he tipped his up and took a swig from it. He set it on the dresser as he carefully and very slowly put his shorts on over his firm ass. “I’m not trying to get you drunk either, or take advantage of you,” he said as he turned around and faced me. “You saw some pretty hairy shit today. The alcohol is just so you can sleep without seeing it.”

I eyed the glass and then brought it up to my lips and sniffed it. I wasn’t a big drinker, but he had a point. I didn’t want to dream about what had happened to Jillian and Bonnie. I just wanted to sleep and forget it before I had to face reality again. I took a big drink and coughed as it burned my throat. “Holy cat balls,” I sputtered.

“Drink it slowly; won’t burn so much.”

“You tell me this after I drink it,” I said with a sour look on my face.

“I’m going to kiss you, before we sleep.”

“Is that so? What if I don’t want you to kiss me?” I asked, lowering the glass as the feel of alcohol swept through me.

“Then you should probably stop kissing me back. It’s hard to not kiss you when you react the way you do. It makes me think you want my kiss.”

Maybe I was a cock tease? Because I had just licked my lips like a two-bit hussy who was ready to examine that thing in his shorts with my tongue, and he’d said kiss…not head! “I’m not a hussy, and I don’t go around just kissing people.”

“Good to know; that tells me a lot about you. That when you respond and melt beneath my touch—and you do melt—that it’s me and not just every male in the general vicinity.”

“Well, I’d have to kiss a few more people to compare these feelings to,” I said, smirking as I took another sip.

“Is that so? You think I’d allow it?” he asked as he drank the rest of his glass, and set the empty on the dresser. He lifted the covers on one side of the gigantic marshmallow bed and slid under them.

“I’m not yours.”

“Yet; you’re not mine yet. You will be.”

The single word said with so much confidence sent my heart hammering against my rib cage. “That’s a little cocky, don’t you think?”

“It’s called confidence,” he said and eyed my glass as he brought his hands up behind his head. “You need to know the difference, because with the way you kiss me, sooner or later, it’s going to end with us fucking.”

“I know the difference between being cocky, and being confident. And maybe I’m just desperate?” I smiled and wiggled my eyebrows.



“If you were desperate, you’d have jumped on my cock when I left it undressed and so brazenly displayed for you.”

“You make a good case, but say I found it lacking? Maybe I’m used to something so much bigger.”

I took another sip and smiled.

“Bigger? I felt how tight you were. You couldn’t handle bigger, little girl. You live in a small town where boys are just that, boys. I promise you that I am all man, and I also promise you this, Emma; I will have you. The only question is when it will happen, and how hard I will fuck you.”

What the hell was I supposed to say to that? I mean, I could come off with some shit, I was sure of it, but I think I had just experienced a word-gasm! I opened my mouth only to close it and repeat it. “That’s straight up cocky.”

“Yes, it actually was, but I’m also confident that you want me. I think my bluntness scares you and it should. I know what I want, and I go after it balls to the wall. I want you. It’s as simple as that, little girl.”

“Is that so?” I asked, and felt the heat from the alcohol as it warmed me from the inside, or maybe that was him. “You want me, and yet you keep calling me little girl. So you are either a huge pervert, or well, I forgot what I was saying.” I paused. I looked at the now empty glass and back up at him. “This isn’t a fair fight, and you promised to not take advantage of me.”

“I didn’t say anything about kissing you, or making you come tonight, little girl.”

“I’m not coming,” I said as I narrowed my eyes on him.

“Not yet.”

“Not tonight.”

“Who says?” he asked.

“Me!” I growled but it came out seductive. Oh holy crap. I was drunk! “You got me drunk.”

“Yes, I did,” he grinned, unrepentant.

I smiled. But no coming. I could be drunk, but I couldn’t allow him to get that close to make me go mindless. “I’m going to bed.”

“With me,” he said huskily.

I plopped down on the bed and crawled across it. It wasn’t until I reached the other side and turned to judge the distance between us that I remembered I had no panties on. I remembered because he was looking as I had, when I’d stared at Mr. Happy Whacker.

This, by the way, was a horrible name for a penis. I laughed, and his eyes left my naked backside to meet my eyes. His lips curved up into a beautiful smile.

“Do that again,” he said as I remained on all fours.

“I’m not showing you my ass again!” I laughed as I sat down.

“I like the sound of your laughter, sweet Emma.”



I lost the smile and blinked at him. “Not much left to smile or laugh about anymore.”

“Just because the world has gone to hell doesn’t mean you can’t live.”

“True,” I said, even though I didn’t believe it. I’d felt guilty for living when so many had died. It seemed unfair that babies had died, and those of us who had lived longer, well, lived. “Do you ever wonder why God allowed some to live, but took innocent lives? Like the babies. They didn’t deserve what happened to them. They hadn’t even lived yet.”

“You think God did this?” he asked as he continued to watch me from his lazy pose with his arms resting behind his head.

“Or Satan. I mean, what kind of God would allow this to happen? At first I thought it was a wakeup call. So many people had stopped living. In school, everyone spent most of their time checking updates on Facebook, or their phones. We’d stopped living, and between the internet and electronics, we’d become introverts.”

“That’s pretty deep,” he said as his lips curved up into a smile.

“I’m serious,” I said vehemently.

“Come to me,” he said in a tone that commanded me. I shivered from the intense heat that burned in his eyes.

“No funny business. You promised.”

“Do as I told you to,” he said not moving from his pose. “I said I wouldn’t fuck that tight, pretty pink flesh…yet. I told you I was going to kiss you.”

I was moving before I had any idea I was. I paused and looked up at him, once again back on all fours. I felt like a puppet, drawn to him! As if he held the strings which seemed to be attached to my vagigi. I was trembling, and when I stopped inches away from him, he smiled.

“Now lie down beside me, Emma, and part your legs for me,” he said with confidence burning in his eyes.

“You said you wouldn’t bang me tonight.”

“I said I was going to kiss you. I just didn’t say where I would place that kiss.”





Chapter 10





I did as he’d told me to, unsure of why I did it. I only knew that his self-assurance brooked no argument. The look in his eyes commanded obedience, and I was curious to see where he would kiss me. I was on my back when he sat up. His eyes held mine captive with their turquoise heat. His fingers trailed up my thighs slowly, and rounded to the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs.

The multitude of sensations mixed with my uneasy emotions as his fingers danced over my flesh. I felt my nipples as they grew hard, ready to be kissed. My core grew moist, slick with desire. My hands fisted at my sides to prevent me from touching myself. He was only touching my skin, and barely doing that!

“You like it,” he whispered huskily, “when I touch you, like this.” His hands slid up my inner thighs, both hands on each leg at the same time, until they skimmed over my nakedness. He never removed his eyes from mine as he ran them slowly back down to my knees. My instinct was to close my legs. I’d never been this far with a man. I was so far out of my league.

“Are you wet?” he asked and I shook my head in denial. He smiled as if he knew I was lying, but since I was currently on display, he could probably see the proof. I tried to put my knees together, but his hand caught them and held them apart. “If you lie to me, I will punish you for it. In this room, I want the truth. Now tell me, sweet girl. Are you wet?”

I nodded, and watched as he lifted my leg with one hand and pulled his other hand back. It slapped against my ass, and I cried out. Was he serious!?

“Are you wet?”

I nodded again, and he smacked it, again. “Stop that!”

Slap.

“Now!”

Smack! Only this time, there was no pain, but pleasure. I moaned and felt even more wetness leaving my pussy. I moaned as his hand smacked down again. The sound echoed through the room. I considered nodding again, just to see if it would revert to pain instead of pleasure. I was turned on, yet pissed that I was. He had no right to spank my ass, even if it had made me wet.

“Are you wet?” He asked again with more force in his tone. His eyes left mine to look at the now saturated folds. “Damn,” he whispered breathlessly.