by Cate Ellink
CHAPTER 8
His thumb rolls against my clit and I leap into him. My body almost bursting from his touch. He slides a second finger inside me and I can’t believe there are more peaks on this ride. His fingers thrust into and out of me, stretching me wide. The pleasure’s so intense, tears prickle my eyes. He thrusts deep inside again and the tears vanish. God, it’s the best ride of my life. I hang onto his shoulders like they’re all that’s keeping me alive. I thrust my hips in time to his hand and clench internal muscles to hold his fingers inside me.
His lips brush against my ear. “Mac, there’s no way to do this without hurting.”
“I know.” I give him my best smile. I don’t want him worrying about me. If sex is as good as what he’s shown me so far, it won’t hurt much. No wonder Mardi goes back for more even when she gets hurt.
My hand slips over his stomach and stops at his groin. A growl begins in his chest. The hum vibrates through my hand. I stroke my fingers back and forth across his stomach, not quite touching his cock but desperately wanting to.
His thumb scrapes across my clit and I leap, grabbing his shoulders again as I hold on, trying to remain on earth.
He grabs a condom and tears it open with his teeth. Slipping the rubber from the packet, he holds it up, catches the end and slides it over his rigid length. Wow. I want to be able to do that. I want to be able to run my hand down his shaft, holding it tightly. Maybe later.
He eases me on to the makeshift bed and follows me down, locking his lips on mine. I grab those perfect shoulders and arch into him. I want him to enjoy this too. I don’t want him worrying about me. He deepens our kiss and my legs part to make way for him. His cock strokes down my stomach, across my pubic hair, over my clit and to my waiting cunt. Dear lord, it’s better than his mouth or hands.
He breaks our kiss and looks intently at me. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” No hesitation.
I look along my body and silhouetted in the moonlight is his beautiful swollen cock, peeping from his hand. He presses the head against my heated flesh. It’s like a glove drifting across my skin. Then the steely strength presses against me. “Ready?”
If I want to stop he’s given me heaps of time but there’s no way I’m stopping.
“More than ready.” I’ve been waiting my whole life.
He holds my hips up like he did for his mouth but this time he aligns them with his jutting cock. I can’t take my eyes from it. So proud. Standing there, ready for me, ready to fill me. His fingers slip across my clit and over my cunt. I arch and thrust against his hand. Then his hips rock forwards and his cock pushes into me. At first I feel a fullness, then he presses in further and Shiiiiiiit. I bite down on the yelp that tries to escape my lips. I didn’t know it was going to hurt that bad. I’m torn in two. I want to pull away and forget it but he kisses me hard and the distraction works. Juices flood my aching cunt as his cock moves the tiniest bit. I arch into him. I don’t want him hating this. I need to forget about the discomfort of my straining cunt. I work on this kiss, my tongue duelling with his, stroke for stroke. His taste is erotic ambrosia in my mouth. While I moan my pleasure, my hips lift instinctively. His cock thrusts further inside. Bursting pain floods me. He catches my cry in his lips and strokes my sides until I relax beneath him.
“It’s over now. The rest will be pleasure.” He presses tiny kisses to my face, like he’s apologising for my hurt.
I have trouble believing there’s no more pain. I nod, not trusting myself to speak. How can there be pleasure after I’ve been ripped open? I’m backing out of this. My body is already stiffening in his arms, ready to take flight.
He kisses me softly, with so much care. I can’t help but relax a little. He nips gently at my bottom lip before soothing the tiny nip with the sweep of his tongue. His taste fills me. I forget about escaping and run my tongue across my lip behind his. He nips again and sweeps his tongue across my swollen lip. I feel his cock move inside me and stiffen. Three quick nips and sweeps and I’ve forgotten about his cock. My tongue meets his in the sweep. Open mouthed, we kiss until he’s stoked my doused passion. I’m soft and liquid in his arms. He works this kiss, touching me until my passion flames. His fingers tweak my nipples, his hands squeeze my breasts. The pain’s forgotten. I arch my hips and his cock takes my cue. Slowly he pulls out of me and it’s like I’m losing part of myself. Before he has completely left me, he surges back inside. He’s right, it doesn’t hurt. It is all pleasure. My body responds to his masterful play. I answer each touch, respond to each movement, arch at each thrust and revel in the marvellous fullness.
It’s so much better than I imagined. Being filled with his cock makes him a part of me. We move in a synchronicity that reaches my very soul. I’m his and he’s mine. No one told me it was like that.
I pant as sensation drives into me. I grab and claw at his shoulders. I lock my ankles behind him, heels pressing into his buttocks. I scream into his mouth as I burst into a shattered kaleidoscope of colour and sound. Each breath thrusts down his throat as I come. He holds me tight as if he’ll never let me go. He nurses me as I soar and cushions me as I fall, just as he did earlier when I wasn’t entirely sure what was happening.
He holds me tight against him. To my horror I’m shuddering and sobbing in the aftermath. I don’t know why I’m crying, but I’m crying like my heart is broken. I sob great tears that wash over his shoulder. It’s like something has torn inside me and a dam has broken. He doesn’t make a sound. He holds me tight. The comfort of his arms and the soothing touch of his hand stroking my back calms me. The storm passes, the tears dry and my breath returns to something resembling normal. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life. I don’t cry in front of people and never in floods like that.
“I’m so sorry.” My words are muffled into his shoulder. I have to say it before I lift my head. If I don’t, I’ll be too mortified to say anything later.
“For what?”
“Sobbing like a baby. I don’t even know why I am.”
“Did I hurt you?” He sounds so worried.
Quickly I shake my head. “Not really. A bit. It was amazing. I’ve never felt like that. Like I exploded. Like I lost myself. Like the world ended.” I chuckle, feeling like a crazy woman. I don’t quite understand how it happened but something inside me is different. “A bit melodramatic, sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I like hearing you say that.”
I lift an eyebrow, even though I know he won’t be able to see it. “I can tell.” His cock has hardened against my thigh. I don’t remember him withdrawing.
He chuckles. “Need a rest or can you go again?”
I laugh, thinking he’s joking, but he isn’t. If I knew he was serious, I would have said no. I don’t think I like the powerfully sweeping emotion that’s left me shattered. I don’t want to experience that again.
But he takes my laugh as a yes and he sweeps me into a different kind of sex. This time it’s softer, gentler and it lasts an age. There’s no concern about pain. Just two people enjoying each other’s body. Two people riding each other’s emotions. I shatter again, without tears, as he bucks into me. My cunt closes on his throbbing cock and milks him. It’s the most amazing feeling, like we’re meant to link together. We hold each other close until we catch our breath.
He didn’t come before. The realisation would knock me down if I wasn’t already lying. He held himself back, for me. My first time was all for me. This time he came. This time we came together. This time I really had sex.
“Wow. I can’t believe I’ve wasted all this time. That was amazing. Thank you.” I lean forward and kiss him softly. We lay on our backs, side by side, fingers touching. My body is soaked in sweat and I need the cool night air to skim across me and drop my temperature. I figure Jason’s the same. Surely our bond is so close we’re feeling the same things.
“Mac, what’s your real name?”
His question is out of the blue and I answer without givi
ng it a thought. “Willow MacIntosh.”
“Why don’t you use it?”
I sigh before stating simply. “I hate it.” I don’t want a heavy discussion now. I want to bask in post-sex wonder.
“But willows are long, slender, supple and beautiful. I think it suits you.”
That surprises me. Is he saying I’m beautiful? “I’m a string bean, not a willow.”
He chuckles before answering. “I think you’re a willow.” His hand strokes along my side. The reverent touch of his fingertips makes me feel beautiful.
I don’t answer. I’m too busy thinking. Does he really think I’m slender and supple and beautiful? My body’s drifting into darkness. Exhaustion taking over. I try to fight it but my eyes drift shut before I can question him. His lips skim across mine and he murmurs, “Good night…Willow.”
I grunt in a most undignified way. It’s the only form of protest I can muster.
He whispers across the night. “I promise I’ll only call you that in the dark.”
Having only a few hours sleep is not the best but being woken with Jason’s delicious kisses is pure pleasure. Stretching beneath his hands, blinking in the pre-dawn light, I wish this was an every morning occurrence. Then reality slaps me in the face—this is the first morning I wake with Jason beside me, yet the last time it will happen. We’re walking out of here today. The mangrove sojourn is at an end. And here I go again, out of the moment. Stop it.
“Morning, Mac.”
“The morning came too soon.” And I never want this to end. While his hand skims down my body, I stretch and move from under the blanket. A whisper of cool pre-dawn air hits my skin, chilling me to goose bumps. I love waking beside him, naked.
In the half-light, Jason turns towards me, raking his darkening eyes over my exposed torso. He reaches to cup my breast and catches the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He rolls it with exquisite slowness. “I could get used to this.”
“Mmmm…” So could I. I press into his caress, pushing into his hand, silently begging him to do the same to my other breast. It throbs while left unattended.
He catches my other nipple before snagging my lips into a deep, thorough morning kiss.
I don’t want to leave. I don’t want this to end. It’s like a dream and I have no intention of ever waking up…but I have to. No dream lasts forever.
“You could trip getting out of the vehicle and do your ankle. Then you could spend the next few days with me instead of hiking away from me.” He’s thinking like me.
I wish I could. I wish I could act that well and fake an injury but I can’t. We’d be caught and he’d be demoted and I’d hate myself. He must see all that in my face.
“I’m serious,” he says.
I know he’s serious. I’ve thought of the same thing myself but rejected it. “I have to see this trip through. As much as I’d love to stay with you, I have to finish it. Otherwise I’ll always wonder if I could have made it. I’ll never know.”
He nods. We’re both part of bigger things—he the army, me this trip. We’ve been brought together by them and now they keep us apart.
We commiserate by sharing another long, mind blowing kiss. I writhe against him. Never will I have enough of my nipples scraping across his chest. My fingers sink into the lush muscle of his shoulders. His lips travel to my neck and my brain remembers why I can’t stay. Damn mind. I tug my lips from his, slowly, regretfully.
“People will be up early today. I can’t get caught.” One look at Jason’s face and I know I have to leave or we’ll both forget the consequences. I can’t do that to him. I can’t ruin his career.
I scramble into my clothes, trying to ignore him watching me with a slightly silly smile. I thought it would be uncomfortable with him watching me but I’m enjoying being his entertainment.
“At least it’s easier wriggling into clothes than it was getting out of them.”
Jason smiles one of those stomach tumbling grins. “Would you like my help? I could distract you so you won’t know what goes where.”
I laugh. As if I need that sort of distraction. I grab my stuff and make a hasty exit from the vehicle. Once I’m on solid ground, feet firmly planted, I lean inside and give Jason a long, hot kiss. If I’m out here, there’s less chance I’ll crawl back in, curl against him and have a long bout of morning sex.
He tries to pull me inside but he’s grinning. He knows we can’t and thankfully the earth keeps me grounded. Pulling away is difficult. His naked body, sleepy eyes, and pillow-marked cheek beg me to stay.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Guess I can’t call you Chicken Shit when you make the tough calls.” He smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll see you when you get back. We can take up where we’ve left off.” There’s so much promise in his voice. Hope soars in me. I want to crawl back inside. I want to be wrapped around him. I want to make promises. I want to plan a future. I want him.
I leave, quickly, before I change my mind. I’m stiff, sore and aching in places I never thought would hurt, but it’s a good ache, like after strenuous exercise.
I detour via the toilet block. If I run into anyone, I’ll have an excuse for being up early. I don’t have an excuse for these stupid tears. I’ve never cried so much. I don’t cry leaving people. What’s gotten into me? Jason stirs up everything inside me. It’s like emotions are boiling and exploding through the surface. One second I’m elated, the next sobbing, the next excited, then planning, then sad, melancholy, happy, confused. I’ve never felt so much in such a small timeframe. Or is it not to do with Jason himself, but the loss of my intactness?
Racing into the toilet block and the shower stall, I try to wash the tears away but they’re dripping without any thought of stopping. Under the shower I let them fall to get them completely out of my system. This only reminds me of the night in the spa. More big, fat tears drip down my face. I long for Jason to shower with me again, but he can’t. Trust me to get involved with someone I shouldn’t.
Bloody hell. What’s with all the blubbering? Hooking up with Jason was worth every second of the time. What we did was fantastic. I need to be proud of my achievements. I made an effort to speak to Jason when I thought all was lost and it paid off. I got what I wanted—losing my virginity. I learned what it was like to love a man. A small smile escapes.
I lost it. My cherry is gone. Wooohooo!
I have to focus on that. It’s no good feeling sorry for myself when I got what I wanted. I have to face the future, whatever it holds.
Luxuriating for a moment, I wash my hair and have my fill of the last hot shower for a while. I get out, rub myself dry and dress. I’m prepared to face the day, and the future, positively.
With my towel slung over my shoulders, toiletries bag under my arm and my lips tucked between my teeth to steel my nerve, I leave to go to my tent. Three steps from the toilet block and Sam is in front of me.
“Mac, you’re up early.”
I gulp while trying hard to look normal and not embarrassed or caught out or any other give-away trait. “Last day of civilisation. Had to make the most of the shower.”
“It’s a bit early for a shower.” Sam looks at his watch. I’ve no idea what time it is. I hope it’s not some completely ridiculous hour.
“The sun’s up. And what are you doing?” I point at his towel and toiletries.
“Yeah, but you’ve been and I’m just going. It’s not like you to be up so early.”
I shrug. There’s not a lot to say. “Enjoy your shower.” I force a smile and walk away. All I can think of is, please, please, please don’t know the real reason I’m awake. I couldn’t live with myself if Jason was in trouble because of me.
We’re all packed and ready to leave by eight am, the designated time. Jason is waiting with the vehicle to drop us at the start of our walk back to base camp, which is going to take six days. He and Fiona brought our supplies earlier, so we’re ready to go. I want to tell him about
Sam but I can’t. I want to kiss him again but I can’t. I want to stay with him but I can’t.
I don’t know if I can walk away either. It’s awful to be so torn. I didn’t expect sex to be this complicated. No wonder Mardi moans about men all the time. This stuff is confusing.
We pile in the vehicle, the same one I left a few hours ago. It contains no trace of our amazing night. Inhaling deeply, I catch the faintest hint of musky sex and grin. From Jason’s glance and wink in the rear view mirror he knows what I’m thinking. But does he know the rest of my feelings? People talk about being broken hearted and I think I know what they’re saying. I’m torn. Torn between what I have to do and what I want to do. If I stay, I’ll put his career in real trouble. Sam must suspect something the way he looked this morning. I’m conscious of him looking between Jason and me trying to decide if there’s something between us or not. If I stay, Sam will know why. If he tells anyone the ‘no fraternisation’ rule has been broken, Jason will be penalised. I can’t allow that to happen. With every bit of resolve in me, I have to get out of this vehicle, say a cheery goodbye to Jason and leave on this walk. It hurts. It hurts more than I imagined.
Jason must have perfected the art of driving while watching me in the rear view mirror. Every time I look he’s watching me. Those big dark eyes have an intensity I wish I understood. Is he going to miss me? Did last night mean to him what it did to me? Will I see him again?
We pull up at our departure point at the base of a flipping huge hill. I have to do this, so I do it quickly. I think fleetingly of falling but I don’t. I jump from the vehicle and shoulder my pack. Jason glances at my ankle and we smile at each other ruefully. It’s a quick look but it’s nice to know what he’s thinking right now.
