My Protector by Flora Ferrari

Chapter Thirteen

Becky

All my shaking, all my insecurities, and self-conscious thoughts stop once we’ve done what we both know we wanted.

What we needed.

I know I won’t fully be his until he’s filled me with his babies, but Dillon’s staked his claim about as pronounced and firm as any man could.

He swore he’d only ever come inside me, our first time. But this energy between us. This attraction of our bodies, as well as minds, has been too much for both of us, and all in just one day.

Love at first sight?

Yes. Although I know Dillon would never say it like that. He’s got too much macho in him to be so openly soft, just yet.

But oh, how he trembled when I finally plucked up the courage to even attempt to take as much of him into my mouth as could as the rest of him played between my tits.

If it was a fantasy. Even if I had dreamed the whole thing, it’s been the most intense experience so far.

But it was real.

I’m not dreaming, and the now hot marble underneath me, and the traces of his heat cooling slightly on my naked flesh rubbing against me proves it.

I open my mouth, not to even try to take him again. But to tell him something.

To tell him how I know I already feel, but it’s all still so surreal.

Nothing could be this simple, could it?

A short, heavy set girl with a world of problems goes to work one day and has the man of her dreams not only sweep her off her feet.

He puts those feet over his own broad shoulders and shows her how she needs to be treated from now on, and only grunts the same thing whenever she doubts it.

That I’m his.

I am his. I know I am.

Even after crying into his huge barreled chest after he showed me more affection and focus than the whole world has in nineteen years.

I’ve never felt so alive either. Never felt so satisfied and relieved.

Without wanting to wriggle free from him completely, I at least let him set me down and picking up his shirt that he’s tossed, I drape it over myself. Instinctively buttoning the front just a little.

Still shy about my soft stomach.

Still soaking up his essence though. His seed, nourishing my body through my skin.

My rivet nipples I’m sure will never be soft again as long as he’s around.

His large shirt hangs on me like a robe anyway and his prolonged growl of satisfaction tells me he likes what he sees.

My own wardrobe is instantly redundant.

“Eat,” he commands, jutting his chiseled jaw towards the food, most of which is still warm and still way more appealing than anything else I had planned an hour earlier.

He settles me on a thick wooden stool at the counter and standing behind me uses both hands on mine to fill a plate high with the tastiest meal I’ve had in months.

His over-the-top style is to even put the fork and knife he has ready into my hands. His huge hand then traces down my back before he kisses my neck tenderly.

Taking his side of the counter opposite me as I shiver under the memory of his recent touch.

His half nakedness a meal in itself. His huge member still bobbing from the front of his pants, a lifelong supply of what I need from today.

Forever.

“You don’t wanna sit next to me?” I pout, surprised by my feelings. But he explains quickly.

“I want to watch you eat, always.” He grins. Eyeing the food again and helping himself to a huge plateful before settling his gaze on my chest under his own come-stained shirt as he takes large bites of his own meal.

Each punch of his angled jaw into his food is a signal of what I know I still need from him.

Not just from his kitchen, but definitely meat-based, with bone and gristle and pumped heavily deep inside me.

The warmth of his seed runs heavy between my stiff nipples as we both eat in near-silence. Running a milky river all the way down to my already steaming pussy.

Being feasted on by such a man. Then having him finish on my chest and face is one thing.

Having him want me to eat in front of him afterward in his come filled shirt is the ultimate aphrodisiac, I discover.

Fuck. I want him so bad… But he’s so… big. And I’m so—

“Eat.” He grunts again, keeping his knowing grin wide. A subtle movement of his eyes reminding me that everything else will run its course as well as it already has today.

No more doubts. No more problems. Dillon’s here.

He’s the best teacher because he only wants to help me. Only wants me to do my best and experience all he has to offer by just being me.

How one man can tell me so much with a brief glance of his eye, the tiniest wink even?

It’s the measure of the man I know I want to be with forever.

I’m already his.

The food is amazing, but it’s his powerful gaze watching over me that really fills me up.

Giving me a constant thrill in my chest before he fills me with what I’ve already held, stroked, and tasted.

I mention it again out of awkwardness, not because I feel ready just yet.

“I really want to, I mean I...” I try to explain, swallowing a mouthful of food as his brow creases, concerned.

“Want to what?” he asks me knowingly.

The whole virgin thing? It’s good to have it out of the way by Dillon knowing, but I’m scared because if we don’t go all the way tonight he might lose this interest that’s still so heavy between us right now.

I stammer something about not wanting him to think I’m just a tease or won’t follow through by letting him claim me.

He sets his silverware down firm, his eyes blazing into mine as one of his huge hands presses over mine.

“You’re mine, Becky. If I have to wait a thousand years to claim you, I will. But the only thing I want to hear from your lips is that you are mine. None of this sorry talk, okay?” he says firmly.

I feel my head nodding but in my heart, I wish I could have just given myself to him in the heat of the moment instead of being so—

“Tight,” Dillon remarks his lip curling at the thought.

His own memory of his face between my legs making me blush.

“Your— I mean my sweet little pussy is so tight and so small. I understand,” is all he says before he resumes eating, still smiling to himself between mouthfuls as he keeps watching me eat.

I don’t know how he does it, but it’s like every single thing I have an issue with, I just know he can fix it with a word, a look, or that magic touch of his.

I can see too that Dillon’s a man who needs big everything.

A big truck, big clothes and plenty of food. To hear him refer to me as tiny, which I am next to him, makes me feel better than I ever have about myself in years.

I’m done eating, and I know he wants more but he calmly sets his plate aside, casually telling me to ignore the dishes and to follow him.

He stands and moves towards an open door leading to the rest of his huge house.

Like I said, big guy, big everything else.

I feel like he might want me whether I like it or not, his own arousal something he’s left out of his pants the whole meal and now it looks bigger and harder than before.

With my heart in my throat, I follow him. His ropes of come clinging to me under his shirt I’m still wearing, but feeling cooler now.

He only walks a short distance, then orders me to strip as he flicks on a light.

A large bathroom is just off an even bigger hallway that runs into the kitchen.

“Strip,” he says again, firmer, but with a little smile, bending over the bath to turn on the faucet.

“Bath and bed,” he tells me, his huge member like a traffic light I can’t ignore. Fumbling out of my ‘clothes’ as much as I’ve stammered through my words all night with him.

“I can wait,” he adds, calming my self-doubt instantly as he slips out of the few clothes he has left on. His large rod bobbing against rock hard abs. His whole body perfectly sculpted and tanned, like something out of a dream.

The tub is twice as deep as wide and fits both of us easily, the water is perfect and once he’s satisfied with its contents, he lowers himself in after me.

I watch the water level rise, feeling it cover my stiff nipples as his own member gently slides up what feels like the whole length of my back.

His legs on either side of mine. The power of his body charging the water like someone just dropped a live toaster in it.

Electric.

The steam rises and his arms cover me from behind, and for the first time in my life, it feels like I can breathe.

“Better?” he asks in a low tone that tells me he’s smiling.

I nod, as his hands trace some hair back from my face, a sweet gesture that brings a smile to my face.

He only lets out a low hum of satisfaction, but it says a thousand things to me.

The one thing I do know is, I’m home.

Dillon.

My whole world from now on.