The Prom Queen's Sinner: Thornwood Small Town Forbidden Romance Book One

by J. E. Bradley

  “You’re so warm,” I exhale and then breathe him in. It’s the same scent I smelled in his shower. The tobacco leaf and cedar. It consumes me, and I feel safe for once in my life.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, more gently than I’ve heard him speak before.

  “No,” I shake my head against the swell of his pecs. “No.”

  Tears, unbidden and hateful, arrive on my lashes. They slip down onto his shirt, mingling between the fabric and my cheeks.

  “I’m sorry if you don’t want to deal with me. I can’t imagine how you feel, having me come here like this. I don’t know...I can’t explain...I just needed someone.”

  Wyatt pulls back a bit and looks down at me, brows going heavy over his tremendously sharp hazel eyes. He lifts a finger to my cheek and swipes away the next trail of tears, setting his jaw in confusion.

  “What’s wrong? You have to tell me. I can help you fix it, whatever it is.”

  I shake my head, dismissing him. I don’t want to admit to him that his son as good as raped me. I can’t even guarantee he’d be on my side. Maybe he’d call me crazy, just like Derrick. He’d belittle me and tell me my memories aren’t my own, and that I shouldn’t have said yes in the first place.

  “Savannah,” he takes his fingers and scoops them under my chin, and I hold back a sob. “If someone hurt you…”

  “No,” I try to bury it all, but the sadness is too much. It’s unbearable. “Just...I want you to hold me. Please, can you do that?”

  This isn’t all I want. This only brushes the surface of what I want from him.

  “Of course,” he agrees quietly and maintains his stony disposition as he takes me by the hand and leads me up the stairs. We go silently, and when we arrive in his room I am suddenly breathless. If my friends knew...if my dad knew… My body cords with anxiety, but I know that this is what I want. It’s the one selfish thing that I will take for myself in this life.

  “I don’t care about what anyone else thinks,” I say, trying to convince myself in the process. “I need to say something. I’ve always been attracted to you. I know it’s wrong. But it’s the truth. Take it for what you will. Maybe you think I’m just a stupid eighteen-year-old with too many emotions. I don’t care.”

  He swallows hard, and I can tell he’s battling something within himself. He leads me to the edge of the bed and I sit, waiting for him to respond.

  “Please, say something.”

  He paces the room for a few moments, blows out a breath, and pulls his hands through his hair. I watch him for a few moments until he turns back to me and comes to crouch on the floor before me, peering up into my eyes with a solemnity that makes me ache.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he nearly whispers. “You’re so fucking innocent, and I’m well...I’m not. I don’t deserve to even touch you.”

  Anger flares through me, and I reach out to grab his hand. I take it and place it on my breast.

  “Wyatt…” I whisper his name, gazing into his eyes. The friction of his hand on my breast makes me nervous, and yet, I’m already turned on. I respond to him in the way that a woman should respond to a man. By melting. “You won’t hurt me.”

  Wyatt’s finger gently skims over the top of my jacket that covers my breast, and I take a deep, longing breath. My chest rises and falls for the feeling. For the sensations he, and he alone, can give me.

  “I want to know you,” I say.

  “You want to know me?” He blinks a few times before his lips twist and he stands, turning away from me so that I can’t see his face. “I was married, cheated on my wife, got divorced, and have lived in the same place ever since. I’m stuck in the past. And now, I’m so fucking sick that I want to fuck my son’s girlfriend.”

  The part where he admits he wants to fuck me makes my heart go wild with skipped beats and adrenaline. I swallow and clasp my hands before me.

  “That’s not all there is to you,” I tell him, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “You’re a good man.”

  “Am I?” He swivels around and saunters toward me, and then he gathers me up in his arms, resting his forehead against mine. “Would a good man want this?”

  I feel like if we stayed this way for long, our bodies would merge. There’s something about him that I can feel in my bones. Maybe it’s his aura, or whatever the new age-ey girls say when they mention soul mates. But I feel something else between us. Something that goes deeper than words can ever describe. It’s an intense and yet familiar sensation-- like my body recognizes his and now needs him more than anything else in the world.

  “If denying this is what makes you good, then I’d want you to be bad,” I say, holding onto him as he holds onto me.

  He lets out a breath against my neck, and then he lays me down on the bed and drapes himself around me. I nestle into him and stare up into his face. I trace his features with my fingertips, drawing lines from his jaw to his nose.

  “Can we just be what we are?” I whisper wonderingly.

  Wyatt hesitantly uses one of his fingers to tease the skin of my face as well. We mirror one another, tracing each other’s features. His dip over my lips, down my chin, around my forehead, and over the hollows of my cheeks. How can these simple touches cause such a deep sexual need? We touch one another slowly, staring into one another’s eyes, lost in the moment. He’s a starry sky, and I don’t ever want to look away.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers.

  “So are you,” I smile.

  He chuckles darkly, lowering his chin a bit and I can’t help but laugh too.

  “Why are you laughing?” I ask, and he shakes his head as if he can’t explain it. His index finger loops around my jaw and then he drags it lower, down my neck, and I gasp, tilting my head and closing my eyes to savor the sensation.

  “Wyatt…” my voice is breezy and lazy on my sluggish tongue. “Please…”

  “Please, what?” he asks curiously, and I crack my eyes to see his expression, bright and sinfully delighted. “I thought this was okay.”

  “It is okay,” I nod hurriedly. “It’s more than okay. I mean...please keep going.”

  “I won’t take your virginity,” he says stiffly, snaking his fingertip across the front of my throat to the other side. “I won’t do it. I want your first time to be special. You deserve something better than this.”

  Tears begin to flood me yet again, and I close my eyes, listening to the silence draw out between us, enjoying the feel of his fingers caressing me, stroking me, calming me. A few slip out from beyond the cage of my eyelids, and I pinch my lips together. If only he knew.

  Wyatt immediately attends to the droplets.

  “Why are you crying?” he asks, and I can tell that he is genuinely worried. “I’m sorry, but...”

  “No,” I lower my head into the pillow, unable to meet his gaze. “You’re just...thank you for caring about how I feel.”

  “Of course.” He dips his head.

  “But you wouldn’t be taking my virginity…” I finally tell him, hoping that I can get through this. Hoping that I can stay strong and finally subdue the tears.

  He looks at me questioningly, and I blow out a breath.

  “Me and Derrick…” I start to say, but the tears blaze behind my eyes, and I hide my face in the pillow. I don’t want to explain, nor rehash anything that happened. It’s too raw. Too immediately terrifying.

  “Why?” he asks, using his hand to guide my face up from the pillow so that I am forced to look into his face. I see a glimmer of fury roll through his eyes. His lips flatten and he continues to touch my face, but I know he is shocked.

  “I- I don’t know. Don’t ask me what happened, please.”

  “Is he the reason you’re crying?” he asks, a hard edge to his voice.

  How can I escape this? I look down yet again and clear my throat. I’m so deeply afraid of how he will respond if he knows the truth. I don’t want him to throw me out, yet again. My heart pounds in my chest and I lick my lip
s. If he throws me out, then this isn’t meant to be. I’ve always considered him someone who automatically knows me, but if he isn’t on my side for this...he wouldn’t be the person I think he is.

  “I told him that it was okay,” I start to say, but I feel hollow, like nothing good could come from this except for more pain. “It’s my fault.”

  Wyatt lays back, stretching out and throwing an arm over his head. He seems to be deep in thought as if he’s both reflecting and calculating the hidden messages in my words. I can’t tell what’s there, perhaps disgust? Perhaps anger? Perhaps jealousy?

  “I can’t do anything about him without revealing that you’ve come to me,” he speaks slowly and then rolls over so that he is once again hugging my body. He peers into my eyes, his own honest and clear. “But I can give you something else.”

  “What?” I ask lightly, reaching out and holding onto his jaw. “Are you going to give me further guidance?” I tease, smiling through the intense emotion racking through me.

  “Oh, yes…” he smirks darkly, and suddenly everything about him changes. “I’m going to give you what your body wants, but only what it wants and nothing more.”

  Blood surges in my ears, my cheeks grow hot, and heat flashes over my entire body. Laying next to him makes me feel both cherished and vulnerable, and his words work their way into my flesh, revving me up so much that my pussy feels tender. I ache for his touch. For everything about him. And the way he looks at me it’s like tiny electric pulses scatter across my skin, knowing his intent.

  “I don’t want anyone to hurt you, Savannah,” he says as he reaches out and cups the back of my head, drawing me near. Our foreheads touch and our noses nuzzle. “And I will do my best never to be one of those people.”

  Wyatt

  She nods in understanding, breathless as she leans into me, capturing my breath in her own. She wants me to close the gap. But I want her to wait. I want her to truly feel every moment because after this there is no turning back. And I have a feeling, no matter what happens between us, that we will remember this night forever.

  Savannah’s body is lithe and small, yet she has curves that would make any woman green with envy. I carefully allow my hand to glide from her shoulder, all the way down to the edge of her hip.

  We don’t need words. Not now. We’re captive to the dream, obsessed with the potential. Her beauty should be worshipped the same as her humanity.

  Once she’s used to sex, I know she’ll want more. But tonight, and maybe many nights after, I’m going to focus solely on her pleasure. And this will get me off just as quickly.

  I guide her lips to mine in a gentle pull, and we mesh sweetly. Hers taste like candy or some sort of sugar or fruit, but I don’t shove my tongue in her mouth. I wait here, listening, observing, noticing every subtle movement. She moves her head to deepen the kiss, and I respond in turn, holding back a low groan. This is wicked. It’s wrong, but I haven’t ever felt something so perfect in my life.

  Her silk lips dance with mine, but every time she tries to go faster, I stop her and slow the pace. I frame her face with my hand and use my fingers to guide her chin, to teach her patience. Because all we have is time.

  Our lips join, clash, and then I part mine and she responds willingly, offering up her tongue so that I can taste her fully, the sweet wet warmth making my cock like a pillar of rocks in my pants. If this is how her mouth tastes, I cannot imagine what her cunt tastes like. We breathe together, lap at one another, and I suck her bottom lip into my mouth and she moans, a soft slight noise.

  I smirk as I kiss her.

  “Mm,” I growl in approval.

  I don’t know how long we kiss, but it is nearly thirty minutes before her hands reach out to my shoulders and she kisses me in anxious strokes, showing me that she is aching for more. Her body is wound up like a rubber band, and I will make her snap.

  “Savannah... “ I whisper. “I want to take your clothes off now, is that okay?”

  She nods blissfully and helps me to dispose of her jacket, shirt, leggings, and shoes. When she is dressed in nothing but her underwear, I freeze. Can I do this? Do I dare? I’m so fucking hard for her one touch and I’d explode. I guess this is what you get when you pretend to be young again.

  Her breasts are held down and pushed together by a light pink bra with little rhinestones. It’s so juvenile I have to bite my lip. Her underwear match in thong style, riding up her perfect tight ass as she scoots back on the bed.

  “Can you be naked too?” she asks me nervously.

  I nod once and slip my shirt over my head, and then pull down my shorts. Her eyes roam over the bulk of my shaft concealed by my boxer briefs, and they widen in what I assume is awe, intermingled with a bit of fear.

  “Tonight is not about me,” I tell her sternly, and come to the bed, drinking in her beautiful form as if I would burn it into my memory. “I won’t put my cock anywhere near you tonight. You’re not ready. I won’t do anything you’re not begging me to do.”

  She seems both intrigued and satisfied by this promise, and I move forward so that we can kiss again. I stilt myself up on my elbows above her, lying between her fit thighs and trying not to think about how sweet she’ll taste. Savannah’s body relaxes when our lips join again. My abdomen slides against her thighs as she leans down to kiss me. Her fingers hesitantly draw through my hair, and I lift up further so that I can kiss her forehead, eyes, and jaw. She gasps softly with each touch, and she lifts her knees so that her legs are nearly wrapped around my upper body.

  “Wyatt…” she mewls. “What you said before about you losing everything…”

  “I’m sorry.” I lift my gaze to hers, and her aqua eyes transcend all natural beauty, becoming something ethereal. “We’ll be careful. Fuck it.”

  She is satisfied, and then reaches out and cups my face in her hands. Her black hair cascades around her shoulders, a sleek shadow I want to bury my face in. Savannah leans in and kisses me deeply, and I respond by attending to her lips, but then moving down. I taste the skin of her neck, and she gasps, arching against me.

  “Is that okay?” I murmur through the kisses, licking and then sucking the skin into my mouth.

  “Y-yes,” she agrees, and I can tell that she means it. Her body is quaking, moving toward me as if she would do anything to get more.

  I dapple kisses along her collar bone while my arms slide around her back and curl up so that I hold her shoulders. Her legs wrap around my upper body tightly, and her breathing is sporadic. I can feel her responses under my hands like putty, and I hate that I like it so much. I’m undeserving. I shouldn’t be allowed to elicit these responses.

  But I’m here with her and there’s nothing else that I’ve ever wanted more. How many times have I imagined this? Dreamed it? Desired it? Craved it?

  It’s hard to believe that this is real. But, I force myself to believe by unhooking her bra at her back, allowing the flimsy pretty pink material to fall away from her. She smiles, but I still see the fear mixed in with the desire. When she sets her bra aside, she sits there patiently, watching me. But I can only stare at her perfectly shaped breasts. The nipples hard and poking out eagerly. I can tell she itches to cover herself up, but I shake my head.

  “You are so perfect,” I tell her, mouth nearly salivating.

  “And if I didn’t look like this, would you still think I was perfect?” she asks me, tilting her head in question.

  I think about this for a few moments as I stare at her tits, holding back the primal urges inside of me.

  “I would,” I say, knowing that this is true in my soul. Because for some damn reason I think that even if she gained fifty pounds I’d still think she was the sexiest, most mysterious girl on this planet.

  “You’re just saying that because I’m lying naked in front of you,” she smiles sheepishly.

  “No, Savannah,” I shake my head and lean forward, kissing her neck sensuously, nibbling lower than I’d dared to go before. “There’s just s
omething about you.”

  Her lips flatten as she braves my kisses, and I glance up to watch her eyes close in ecstasy as I kiss lower, between the hills of her breasts. She tries to keep her eyes open, but as I go she loses herself, slowly slipping away. I wish I could tell her: just let go. I’m here. I’m going to take care of you. But I don’t know if she fully trusts me yet. She can’t believe that when she doesn’t know me, but now I at least have the chance to reveal to her who I really am and to learn myself in the process.

  When I take her nipple into my mouth, she gasps and writhes against me. I remove my mouth with a soft pop, searching her eyes for reassurance that she is okay still. But her eyes remain closed, and she shoves my head back to where it was. I gladly partake again, rolling her nipple around in my mouth and sucking deeply. God, I’ll come in my boxers if we keep going like this. I pass between both nipples and she cries and moves her chest against my face, desperate for more.

  “Wyatt…” she gasps as I swirl my tongue around her nipple and then suck harder. If only I could mark her to prove that she’s mine.

  “Mm,” I make the noise in my throat to tell her I’m listening, her nipple gliding and dancing with my tongue.

  “Oh…” she claps a hand over her mouth as if she’s startled. “Don’t stop…”

  I continue to taunt her breasts, and then slide one of my hands out from behind her so that I can tease both at the same time. I lavish them with my tongue and then knead them with my hands, lift up and blow cool air over the wet space I’ve left, and then continue to suckle her. She’s unable to stop moving beneath me. It’s like a dance. She wants to come, and I will let her. I’ll get her to the mountain peak and let her revel in the heights.