She’s nervous.

It’s almost cute, watching those cinnamon roll eyes of hers dart to the beach behind me, looking for some imagined voyeur who’s going to see all the dirty things we’re about to do to each other.

All the dirty things I’m about to make her do.

“Don’t look so anxious,” I tell her soothingly. I’ve been told on more than one occasion that I’ve got a soothing voice: deep and dark and rich.

I stand and take the arms off her dinner chair. I’m able to pick her up, chair and all, and turn her toward me with ease.

“I’ve never been watched before,” she says.

Rose’s smile is saucy, but I can see that flicker of fear in her eyes. It makes me hard, pushing her. I want to take Rose to the edge of her limits and then push her beyond them.

She’s so strong, so beautiful, and so fucking pure that to see her break would be ecstasy…

But to see her resist, rise above her fears, and take what she wants from the man who wants her?

Even better.

I’ve known fear in my life. Christ, some of the shit those cock-crazed women on those fan sites say about me is enough to make any man’s balls recede. Women on the internet write some weird-ass shit.

I’ve read the fuck-me schemes, where those women plan to somehow seduce me, poke a hole in the condom, and get themselves pregnant off my seed.

I’ve read the weird-ass plans to dive through my trash, locate my spent condoms, and make a baby with my discarded loads. If I was dumb enough to fall for that shit, it might have even worked.

I know my body, and I know my cock.

I’m prime breeding material.

It’s no wonder that women are falling over themselves in their obsession with my billion-dollar cum shots.

But I don’t want to live in fear tonight.

Not in fear of where my cum might fall on Rose’s delicious, perfect cunt. Not of who might see us, or what they might see us do.

No, I’m not afraid of being watched.

Rose shouldn’t be, either.

I take her cheek in the palm of my hand, and she leans into it. I watch the way the sunset makes her glow—the golden tinge to her skin, and the reflections in her eyes, all pink and purple in her cinnamon irises.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” I say, because she is.

She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, in fact. I don’t think I’ll ever meet another beauty quite of her caliber ever again.

“You should be used to being watched by now, Rose.”

“I am…to an extent,” she giggles. It’s a nervous giggle. Still too fucking cute to handle. “But men staring at me on the street, fully clothed, are different from…”

“From what?” I ask, trailing my fingertips down her neck.

“From a stranger watching me…with you.”

A blush rises on Rose's breasts like it’s blooming straight from her heart. Seeing her tits like that—all pushed up and heaving beneath the plunging neckline of her dress—it does things to my cock. Things that make me never want to look at another woman ever again.

Things that make me want to look at Rose for eternities.

“It doesn’t get you off at all?” I ask. My fingertips are at her shoulders now, teasing the straps of the tight little dress she came to me in. “The thought that anyone could see you orgasming around my fingers, against my mouth?”

The blush blossoms all the way up her neck now. I can feel her skin grow hot beneath my fingers. I watch it turn as pink as her namesake.

“I’ve…fantasized about it before,” Rose admits to me.

Christ. One little confession from those pretty lips, and she’s got me so hard.

My cock is fucking aching.

“Tell me more,” I say.

I have to know more.

Rose’s eyes dart to and fro again, searching for that imaginary onlooker. They don’t find anyone, and they won’t—but I need her focused now.

I take her chin between my finger and thumb and turn her face up to me.

“Tell me your fantasy, Rose,” I say, running my thumb over her lower lip now. “And I’ll make it come true.”

She inhales, leaning into my touch again. She might play shy, but it’s not who she really is. I know that beneath all these blushing petals, there’s something raw and wild at her core that’s just begging to be plucked.

“I’ve imagined…being fingered,” she admits. “At the movie theater, or on a train. On the subway, maybe—except that would be fucking insane, because the subway is nasty.”

I chuckle. She’s not wrong.

“Fingered by who, Rose?”

“A man,” she gasps.

She gasps again when I take one of the straps of her dress and pull it down off her shoulder, leaving it slumped against the taut bicep of her arm. “A man who wants me…”

“A man who wants you so badly, he can’t wait to take you home,” I growl, pulling down the other strap. Roses’ tits are barely covered by the tight black fabric now. With one more tug, they’ll spill out into the open…free for me to claim and kiss and make mine. “A man who’s bold enough and man enough that he won’t fucking wait.”

“And you want me that bad?” she whispers, staring up at me.

“You have no idea.”

Her eyes close. She gasps again when I grab the front of her top and yank it downward. Just as I predicted, her tits spill forward. She has the prettiest fucking nipples—already hard for me, just begging to be pleased.

My mouth falls to one of them like I’m some kind of starving beast. For her, maybe I am.

I’m starved for Rose, and a man can only control himself so much.

She moans when I take her nipple between my lips, and when I take it between my teeth, she cries out.

For a moment, the beast abates. I look up at her, ensuring that I haven’t hurt her.

But her eyes are closed in blissful pleasure, and even as I pause, her back arches.

She’s shoving her breasts against me in my hesitation, whimpering, begging, and trying to force me to give her more.

She doesn’t have to want twice.

My tongue roams across the hard, swollen peak of her nipple as I take her into my arms. I pull Rose against me, breathing in the scent of her perfume with every breath. The closer she is to me, the easier it is to smell past that perfume.

It’s beautiful, but it’s not half as good as the smell of her bare, flushed skin.

“Daniel,” she moans.

I release one nipple, only to fall upon the other. I wouldn’t want to neglect something so fucking beautiful and so damn tasty.

“Daniel,” she whimpers.

Her hips grind against my body as I pull her up out of the chair.

“Daniel!” she gasps.

Rose is a perfect woman, I realize—even more perfect than I could have imagined. She wants a baby, not just in mind, but in body, too. Her broad, child-bearing hips move against me in a silent plea—one that I’ll fulfill in due time.

“Daniel!” she cries.

When I’m ready, I’m going to take this woman. I’m going to mark her as mine, fill her with my seed and watch her perfect, flat stomach swell with my child—

Fuck, when did I get full onboard with this plan?

“Daniel! Daniel! Daniel!”

Rose’s whole body shakes as she calls my name. As the shaking subsides, I hear her release a little giggle against my chest.

“I think…I think you just made me come from…my nipples,” she laughs in disbelief.

Fuck. Her body responds to me so effortlessly, I don’t even have to get her panties off before I’m making her orgasm in my arms.

“Does that happen often?” I ask out of curiosity.

“Nooooo,” she says forcefully, shaking her head. “Never before. What…what the fuck even was that?”

I shrug, lowering her back into her chair and pressing a kiss against her lips.

“Chemistry,” I laugh. “Biology, maybe.”

When I pull away from the kiss, I see her eyes dart around once more. Like she’s checking to make sure no one saw her orgasming while having her nipples sucked like a fucking slut.

“Rose,” I level with her. “You’re beautiful. I’m obviously gorgeous. Stop fucking worrying.”

“I know,” she laughs. “It’s just…what if like, serial killers—”

I shake my head, laughing again. “You watch too many horror movies, sweetheart,” I say, kissing her again. “And decidedly not enough porn.”

“What if someone does see us, though?” She’s still giddy from her nipple-gasm. I’m watching her nervousness dissipate before my very eyes.

This woman is such a fucking tease.

“Let. Them. See,” I say definitively.

My eyes drop to the hem of Rose’s skirt. Her eyes follow mine.

She won’t be worrying about anything in a minute or two.

That’s a fucking guarantee.