by C. M. Owens
I’m actively thinking of ways not to screw this up.
It’s the lowest his lips have ever gone as he drags them down the crease of my thigh, gradually tugging my underwear down so subtly that I barely notice they’re gone until he pulls them free.
All my attention is on his mouth as he drags it closer, kissing across my stomach…as I remain frozen, though I feel his hair very firmly woven between the fingers of my non-cast hand again.
“Where’s your head at now?” he asks, the warmth of his breath fanning a very sensitive spot that brings awareness crashing down on me.
Gibberish. I have no idea what I say, because it’s gibberish, but he comes willingly when I pull him closer, my body acting before my mind can overthink. I want his mouth right there forever, because it feels incredible the second he really shows me what third base is like.
He makes that inexplicably sexy noise again that sets off a chain of embarrassing reactions, and the more I try to stay quiet, the more noise I make.
I’m only vaguely aware of it, because now I know why Raya said I’d enjoy the tongue piercing. I think he intentionally wore it tonight, because I never see it otherwise.
His hands grip my thighs when I barely arch off the bed, my body coiled tight just before I have what may be my favorite ever orgasm.
Everything hits all at once, and it hits so hard that I immediately become oversensitive and very aware of the fact this is very, very intimate.
He drags his mouth away, kissing up my hip, as I breathe like I’ve just finished a marathon, my eyes on the ceiling as my cheeks burn for no real reason at all.
Don’t make it weird. That becomes my inner mantra.
But…that’s a first for me—the oral. It’s hard not to make it weird because I don’t know what’s normal after this point.
My body is still shuddering as he kisses a path up my stomach, and my hands move up his back, over his shoulders, and to his chest as he starts kissing my neck.
“I’ll use one of your condoms since you’ve worked so hard on preparation,” he says against my neck, and I nod rapidly, my eyes going to the ceiling again.
“And lube. I have an excess of lube too,” I tell him.
He grins again before pushing off me, and…I quickly pull the blanket around me because it’s surprisingly uncomfortable being naked when the other person is not.
But Base is less modest, because he shoves his jeans and boxers down in unison, and I just stare. At his butt. I’ve never seen a butt in this context before—a sexual situation being the relevant context.
The muscles in his butt flex as he steps over to my condom and lube drawers, pulling out selections of each. My heartbeat is in my ears as he starts opening the condom wrapper, turning his body almost deliberately to show me what he’s doing.
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen a penis off a screen or a condom being put on an actual penis instead of a banana.
Every warning I’ve been given pops into my head.
“If it’s the size of a baby’s arm, run. You’re not ready for that,” Harley told me recently.
Base takes his time, and I continue to gawk. It’s not the size of Isa’s arm—which seems entirely inappropriate to use as a scale—so I don’t have to run.
“If it’s a small penis, just enjoy the easy ride for your first time. Your vagina has a blank slate,” Bella said on April fourth of last year when the topic came up.
I definitely don’t think his is small, and I’m questioning everything about my body. I don’t think she helped at all, because my confidence is quickly waning now.
My surveying is brought to an abrupt halt when the condom-covered penis starts moving toward me.
A hand at my chest shoves me back down on the bed, and my eyes finally detach from the perfectly sized penis as he pulls the covers back and starts kissing me again.
My legs spread as he works his hips between them, and my body stays rigid as he starts kissing his way down my neck again. I magically forget what’s going on because he’s really good at that.
…Until he starts working his way inside me, the blunt head of that perfectly sized penis now seeming much bigger as his lips fuse back to mine.
My body rocks on instinct, because it feels so good as he starts slipping in, stretching me in all the right ways as he slides in and—
His hips thrust quickly, and he shoves all the way inside me without warning, causing my breath to hitch in surprise. There’s a small pinch of pain, much less than expected, but it is…uncomfortable.
“Everything I read said it was better not to let you get tense before doing that,” he says against my cheek, lips moving up to my ear. “And to wait until you’re ready before continuing.”
The discomfort starts to ebb quickly as an odd sense of heat floods my body, and I turn so that our lips brush.
He gently cups my cheek, his thumb gently moving across my lips as those really pretty eyes stare into mine. It feels too intimate, but at the same time, it would be terrible to look away.
“You read tutorials on taking someone’s virginity?”
At his small grin, I kiss him hard, feeling the heat roll around my body as I get really turned on. I know that wasn’t supposed to be dirty talk—I’ve been graphically educated on that subject matter. But it’s possibly the most erotic thing he’s ever said to me.
He groans into my mouth, and his body moves, pulling back and pushing forward again in a way that has my legs spreading wider as the heat only continues to build.
It’s a slight tinge of pain mixed with a desperate sort of need.
It feels as though I’m being consumed in physically impossible ways, urgently clinging to keep him as close as possible. He moves slow, but very deliberately, and I have no choice but to break the kiss to pant for air.
His thrusts get just a little more aggressive, and his body keeps the perfect pressure and friction right where I need it with each downward stroke.
Each time I’m forced to climb higher on the bed, he comes with me. His eyes lock on mine seconds before I’m forced to squeeze them shut, because another, less-powerful-but-still-very-perfect orgasm crashes through me.
My entire body becomes limp as my arms lazily wind around his neck, still wanting him as close as possible as his thrusts grow more insistent.
“Shit,” he says on a rasp just before his hips still, while I float back down to my body, everything on me tingling.
It’s so quiet throughout the entire house, that all I can hear is our breaths as we both try to catch them.
His lips move along my shoulder as he slides a hand up my thigh. I could lay like this for hours. Just him inside me and—
He abruptly pulls out, and I feel an odd sense of abandonment as he stands and glances over his shoulder, smirking at me.
“You sure you want this emotionless? If so, this is the part where I should leave.”
My mouth opens and closes a few times. Finally, my words come out.
“But all your stuff is in the other bedroom.”
“I can get rid of it,” he assures me.
I blink a few times, not really sure what to say. I’m not done having sex.
“I’m not sore, and after sex for the first time, you’re supposed to be sore,” I say as I try to reenact one of the sexy poses Harley told me to use.
His eyebrows go up, as he remains distractingly naked, his very perfect butt still on display. But I’m more concerned about the expression on his face.
“That was supposed to be dirty talk, but you look a little…insulted?” I guess, still gauging his expression.
His lips curve with the beginnings of a grin that he wipes away with one hand.
I can’t believe I’m going to quote Maverick, since everyone has told me to never do that. I think back to some of the things he said to girls that he claimed worked—when he didn’t think I was listening.
But there was one line that stands out that also sounds reasonably hygienic and leaves lit
tle room for misinterpretation.
“I’m going to take a shower so we can do it all over again, if you’re interested,” I say, watching as his gaze slowly rakes over my sheet-covered body.
His eyebrow quirks, as a slow smile spreads over his lips.
“I’ll meet you in the shower,” Base says, lips still curved. “If you’re interested,” he adds like he’s mimicking my line as he goes toward my bathroom.
I try to stand, but the sheet tangles around my feet, and I fall so slowly out of bed that I have to walk forward on my hands just to get my feet untangled.
“I can shower with you, but I don’t think I’m advanced enough yet for shower sex,” I say before I wrap up in the very twisted sheet the best I can and hurry toward the bathroom.
I really don’t think he should be laughing at a time like this, but since his laugh is doing all the right things to my body, I decide it’s a null point.
“And I may need help wrapping my cast if we’re in any sort of hurry,” I add, not even taking the time to process I’m no longer a virgin.
My identity has finally changed.
I weirdly do feel a little different. A grin only spreads wider as Base pulls out a plastic bag and immediately starts wrapping my cast, kissing his way down my neck as he does so.
I don’t want it completely emotionless. I like this.
Chapter 30
BASE
Britt brushes out her wet hair as I groan at the sex playlist on her phone.
“These are not sexy songs,” I tell her as she gives me recovery time.
Gives me recovery time.
“They all talk about sex,” she argues as she moves across the room in nothing but my shirt. “And we still haven’t used anything from my sex tote.”
I’m lying on the bed, completely exhausted, and she’s finished her second shower of the day, preparing for round three.
“Sex tote?” I ask with a growing smile as I tug her back down on the bed with me.
Her cheeks go a little red, something that has happened a lot over the past few hours, and she clears her throat as she stares at my chest.
“It has scented candles, candy underwear, and other things like that. I wanted to be prepared.”
She gives a firm nod before looking up at my eyes so sincerely, and I drop my head back as I hold in the laughter.
“Candy underwear?” I ask around the laugh that just can’t be contained.
“It seemed like an interesting way to lead into oral,” she states matter-of-factly.
My laugh turns into a groan, and though my dick should be down for the count, the blood begins rushing south just with the thought of playing with her sex tote.
“Still not sore?” I ask as I kiss her shoulder, wondering if I’m that good or if I’m going to be ridiculed for being incapable of leaving a virgin sore and sated.
“Not really,” she says quietly as I start kissing a line down her neck.
Let’s Get It On starts playing, and I laugh into the crook of her neck, just because I find it adorably cheesy that she has this on her sex playlist.
“This song? Really, Britt?”
Her eyes turn big and very confused as I drop back to the bed, shaking the whole bed with the rest of my choked laughter.
“What? This song is on some popular movies where the sex is new and important,” she says very seriously.
I pull her to me, and ignore the music as she straddles me, her lips seeking mine with more confidence as she melts against me. My hand slides through the long, soft strands of her damp hair as I sit up, cradling her face as I kiss her back.
***
“You shouldn’t have pulled the new music from the set we did. Essentially, they said they can’t play us there again, because we just aren’t the type of sound they’re looking for. We’ve always got Silk, though. Don’t fuck that up by breaking Dane’s only sister’s heart,” Sticks says on a frustrated sound over speaker phone.
“You broke my hymen. Not my heart,” Britt says conversationally as she brings in two bottles of water and drops down on her bed beside me.
“For fuck’s sake, man. Seriously?” Sticks groans.
“I regret putting you on speaker. I told you that you were on speaker,” I point out as Britt curls up next to me, drinking her water.
“When are we practicing?” he asks like he’s exasperated with me.
“I’ll be by after we finish up something Britt has to do for Maverick, and I’m dropping her by campus for her to take some smart girl tests for supreme-being stuff.”
She just gives me a dubious look before returning to what she’s doing.
“We haven’t practiced any of the newer songs you want to showcase at Silk. It’s time to be less secretive, man. We’re all getting anxious, and it just isn’t working out our way with the old tracks.”
Britt shifts off the bed again, going to pull on her shoes as I just watch her.
I finally stand and slip on my shirt, following Britt out the door. Then I steer her to my truck instead of her flashy, ridiculously clean, expensive car that makes me feel like I can’t shower enough to be worthy of sitting in it.
She climbs into the passenger seat without protest, and I walk around to my door as I hang up on Sticks.
“I’ll drop you off at the campus on my way to rehearsal,” I tell her as I start driving us toward Maverick’s. “Randy will turn rehearsal into a party, and then I’ll come pick you up and we can go back to your place.”
“Then maybe you can coach me on how to return oral?” she asks just as I take a long swig of the water she brought for me.
Horrible timing.
The water sprays on the windshield, and I curse as a passing horn blares when I weave on the road. Britt squeaks out a sound as she clings to the door, and I get us right once again as I shake my head and groan.
I’ve created a monster. I’ve had more sex in two days than I have in a year.
Not that I’m complaining.
“Really, Britt?” I ask incredulously.
“It seems unfair how much you do that for me, and I’m trying to be honest. You said to be honest,” she immediately points out.
“Your honesty is leaving me with a hard-on before we get to Maverick’s house. We can’t have sex in Maverick’s house.”
“Why not? He has lots of sex in it. I doubt he’d mind,” she states in her logical, I-don’t-see-why-that’s-a-problem tone.
I can’t keep talking about sex, because my eyes keep moving to her very bare legs in her very short shorts. Not to mention, the T-shirt she’s wearing hangs off one shoulder, and even her shoulders seem unnaturally sexy today.
I stopped thinking about sex this much after puberty wore me, my socks, and my hand out.
“So what is it you have to do at Maverick’s house?” I ask, clearing my throat as I loosen my collar.
“The favor’s for Sean. Not Maverick. And we’re going to Ian’s house, actually.”
“The kid squire?” I ask, finding this conversation to be much easier on me, even though her answer just raises more questions.
“He’s moved up to being my blacksmith now. Level five,” she deadpans.
Things get quiet in the cab of my truck really quick, and she only speaks when instructing me on which way to turn.
I didn’t realize how much we talked about her virginity…until I took it and we didn’t have it to talk about anymore. I’m treading water because I have no idea what exactly we’re doing.
She backpedaled on emotionless real quick.
We pull up at Ian’s house…which is even bigger than Tag’s house, something I believed impossible until this moment. Britt hops out like this is the normal to her.
“Ian’s Maverick’s dad, right?” I ask absently.
“Yes,” she states distractedly.
Doesn’t this guy have servants to do his errands?
“I’ll sit here so we don’t accidentally end up having sex in Maverick’s father’s giant hous
e. I’ve already had one angry Sterling burst in on me,” I call out the window.
She nods like that’s acceptable.
I watch as she moves to his keypad and starts unlocking his door. Then I watch as she bends over to pick up her phone after she drops it. Those damn shorts show the bottom curve of her ass, and I decide that whoever this Sterling is can kiss my ass.
We can be fast and leave no trace behind.
It isn’t until after I finish locking the doors on my truck that I glance around, taking inventory of the really expensive vehicles parked in all the other driveways. I look back and snort at myself for locking my doors.
Shaking my head at myself and feeling really out of place, I jog inside and…stop.
When I bump into a wall, my elbow hits a switch, and a massive wall across from me starts moving over the fireplace to reveal an obnoxiously sized TV.
Un…real.
A low whistle escapes me as I move through the house. I bet just one piece of furniture in here costs more than any number I’ve ever had in my bank account.
I’m not even sure where the hell Britt is, but just as I open my mouth to call for her, my eyes fall on a bathroom around the next turn I take.
“Holy shit,” I say under my breath as I glance around at the floor-to-ceiling marble or some shit.
How many showerheads does one person need? And do I even want to know why Ian Sterling built a shower stall big enough to hold ten people?
I back out, shaking my head at the ridiculousness that is life as a Sterling. This is probably just one of his houses.
“Britt?” I call, already apparently on the wrong section of house, since this is not the way I came.
“I’m in the kitchen,” she says loudly.
Where the hell is her voice coming from? How am I supposed to find the kitchen?
I startle when I see a man at the end of the hallway, hands behind him as he stares stoically at me. Not creepy at all.
“Britt, is this place haunted by dead dudes in fancy suits, or will I stumble into a bat cave if I pull a secret lever?” I yell.
The apparition/butler in question gives me a dry look.
