His Nasty Little Pussy

EMMAContent © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

I’d been so confused and hurt after I got off my shift last night. I’d worked so hard to look sexy for Damian but all he’d wanted to do was cover me up. For a moment when he first came up to me, I’d thought I’d seen a look of pure possessive fury come over him when he’d seen the way the customers were staring at me, but the more I thought about it, the more I convinced myself of the impossibility of it. If he felt possessive or worried about me, then why would he just go off and disappear for the rest of the night?

No, I needed to really up my game if I was going to get Damian’s attention, and this morning I’d woken up with a brilliant plan. I was going to get him to notice me, and this outfit was going to do the trick. I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. The tiny athletic shorts barely covered my ass, and the sports bra made my tits look fantastic. The roller skates were also giving me a bit of height, making my legs look better than ever. Smiling, I grabbed my sunglasses on the way out and yelled a quick goodbye to my mom and dad, letting them know I’d be back later.

It was 10 a. m. on a Saturday, the time Damian always mowed his yard, and I was bound and determined to make it impossible for him to ignore me any longer. He’d see me skating by in my tiny outfit and be unable to resist me any longer. When I got closer, I could hear his lawn mower, and I sped up in my excitement. As soon as I’d gone past his neighbor’s shrubs, the sight of his shirtless torso made my heart stop. God, there was so much muscle. I wanted to lick every inch of him. I had to force myself to stay on the sidewalk instead of going down on all fours to crawl to him, begging him to fuck me.

I was so focused on him that I wasn’t paying any attention to the sidewalk in front of me. I’d barely had time to wave at him when my skate hit a large crack and I felt myself losing my balance. I spun out my arms in what must have been the unsexiest display ever as I fought to regain control. I let out a frightened squeal when I hit the ground, somehow managing to scrape the hell out of my knee while also falling hard on my ass.

I winced and tried to get back up but immediately fell back down in a painful, undignified heap. When I heard Damian yell my name and then the pounding of his footsteps as he ran to me, I was too mortified to look up. So much for my plan of wooing him with my sexiness.

“Emma, are you okay?” Damian asked as he knelt in front of me.

I was still too embarrassed to look at him, so I muttered a quick “I’m fine,” while looking off to the side.

“Hey,” he said gently, using his thumb and index finger to tilt my chin up so he could look into my eyes.

I resisted at first, but his fingers gripped me firmer, forcing my head up. He couldn’t force me to look at him, though, so I kept my eyes focused off to the side as tears slid down my cheeks. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. I’d fucked everything up and now he’d never find me attractive.

He paused for a moment, wiping the tears off my cheek before saying,

“Okay, let’s get you inside and see how badly you’re hurt.”

Instead of pulling me to my feet like I’d expected, he leaned closer and scooped me up into his arms, carrying me like a child as he walked to his house. Or like a groom carries his bride, a little voice in my head said. As humiliated as I was, I couldn’t help but sling my arms around his neck and cuddle into him. The feel of his muscles moving against me and his hands on my body had my head spinning. There was a beautiful tattoo of a raven on his back with its wing creeping over his shoulder. I ran my finger along its intricate wing, marveling at how life-like it looked. He was covered in a light sheen of sweat, and my tongue was itching to lick his neck. Part of my brain was screaming at me to get a grip. This was my boss for fuck’s sake! A man more than twice my age! The other part of my brain was too busy doing a happy dance and egging me on to stick my tongue out and taste the forbidden fruit that was Damian’s skin. I always liked that part of my brain better anyway, so I leaned in closer and pressed my mouth close to his neck.

Trying to play it cool, I said, “Thanks for picking me up, Damian,” and as I said his name, I gave a small flick of my tongue against his skin, hoping he would just think it was an accident caused by my lips being so close to his skin while I was talking. I wasn’t able to stifle my sigh, though, as the taste of him lingered on my tongue. He was salty and delicious, and I wanted so much more. His body stiffened slightly, but he didn’t say anything as he maneuvered me through his front door, kicking it shut behind us and walked me into his kitchen. I looked around, wanting to learn everything about this man. His home was beautiful. It was decorated in a simple yet tasteful way, and it was very clean. I imagined he didn’t spend much time here. I knew he worked long hours and was often gone when I roller skated by on my spying rounds.

He gently set me down on a large marble island with a sink in the middle of it and an overhang along one side with barstools lined up and tucked in. He turned around and dug through a cabinet, grabbing some band aids and a tube of medicine. Then he went to the sink next to me and turned on the cold water, letting it soak through a dish towel.

“This might sting a little,” he said, bringing the towel to my knee.

I winced as he cleaned my cut with sure confident movements that I couldn’t help but admire. I’d been so focused on him that I hadn’t realized how badly I’d cut my knee, but now I could see that it had been bleeding this whole time, dripping down my shin to the white sock peeking out of my skates.

Damian gently washed my cut before bringing the towel down to wipe up my shin. He used one hand to cup my calf as he extended my leg. Using long, soft strokes, he cleaned me up so gently and carefully, I was left speechless. Whether he was aware of it or not, his thumb stroked me reassuringly on the calf as he finished cleaning me off.

When his emerald eyes met mine, I couldn’t help but gasp at their beauty and at having him so close to me. He didn’t say anything, but one side of his mouth ticked up a little as if he were suppressing a grin. He grabbed a couple of band aids and the tube of ointment. He put the medicine on and then carefully put the band aids on. He cupped the back of my knee in his hands and used his thumbs to trace over the bandages, making sure they were on tight enough.

“All better?” he asked, looking up at me.

Having him so close to me was the most erotic moment of my life, which I guess isn’t saying much because I’d never really done anything except let Rodney Smith kiss me one time behind the bleachers during a football game. His fumblings had left me irritated and disgusted, and I’d sworn after that I’d never waste my time on a boy again. Not long after, Damian moved into the neighborhood, and I’d been his ever since. He just didn’t know it yet.

“Aren’t you supposed to kiss it better?” I asked. “It hurst really bad.”