The idea that anyone could reject this gorgeous woman is so insane I almost laugh, but she looks genuinely worried.
“They’ll want you,” I say, putting a hand on her thigh. “You’re perfect. Trust me.”
She glances at my hand, then back to my eyes. For a second, we just stare.
“Do you really think so?” she whispers.
“I know so.”
She looks away, swallowing.
After a moment, I clear my throat and shift gears. “By the way, I should probably check your status again. Just to be sure.”
She looks confused. “Status?”
“Virginity,” I say, voice low. “Strenuous exercise can sometimes… you know.”
She blushes hard, then laughs, a little wild. “You mean, it can break my hymen?”
“Yeah,” I say. “If we’re going to auction you as a virgin, it helps to be accurate. You’ve been checked twice now, I know, by the doctor, and by myself last night. But you’ve been working out hard, and it never hurts to triple-check.”
Daisy’s quiet, biting her plush bottom lip.
Then: “Do youwantto check, Hunter?”
I nod, slow.
Her face is pink, but she doesn’t look away. “Now?”
“Locker room’s empty,” I say.
She hesitates, but the arousal is plain in her big blue eyes. “Okay,” she whispers, and stands.
I follow her into the men’s locker room, my hand pressed to the small of her back. I feel like a wolf leading a lamb into the woods, but the way she walks—shoulders square, head high—tells me she wants to be devoured.
In the marble and steel echo chamber, she turns to face me, blue eyes wide as her big breasts heave.
“Should I take off my clothes?”
“If you’re comfortable,” I say.
She peels off the sports bra first, letting her Double D’s bounce free. They’re better than I remember from last night—full, high, tipped with perfect pink nipples that are utterly lickable. Next, the shorts. She shimmies them down her hips, then steps out, leaving her in nothing but sneakers and a faint shimmer of sweat. Her twat is plush and lovely, already moist with a smear of nectar on her thigh.
I kneel, because that’s the only thing that feels right. I spread her legs, hands steady on her hips, and kiss my way up her inner thigh. She’s trembling, but not with fear.
“Do you trust me?” I ask, voice thick.
She nods, already breathing hard.
I press my mouth to her pussy, tongue searching for the proof I need. She tastes sweet, a little tang of salt from the sweat, and she’s so wet it’s like she’s been waiting for this all morning. I find her hymen—delicate, barely a whisper—and lick it gently.
“Oh mmm,” she moans, cupping her big tits as I savor her twat. “Oooh, that feels good.”
“It should, baby,” I rasp. “I want you to feel good.”
I flick my tongue over her hymen again, gentle, then circle her clit. Her hands fly to my hair, grabbing fistfuls and pulling me closer.
“Oh fuck,” she gasps. “Oh god, Hunter?—”