by Ward, Tamryn
A little whimper slid up her throat. He swallowed it.
Unable to stop herself, she writhed against him. Her nipples were sensitive little peaks. She needed pressure against them, just like she needed pressure against the wet, throbbing flesh between her legs.
He couldn’t stop this time. It would be too cruel.
“Please,” she somehow muttered against his mouth. “Please.”
“Dammit,” he growled, his voice hoarse. “Jennifer.”
“Don’t think,” she begged, knowing if he did, he would leave her again. And if he did that, he wouldn’t just hurt her, he would destroy her. Sliding her hand down his arm, she searched for his hand. It belonged down there. Where she burned the most for his touch. Somehow she would get him to touch her there.
“Dammit, Jennifer.” He broke the kiss.
She opened her eyes to stare directly into his. “Take me. Do it. I want you to. I don’t give a damn if you have to leave. I don’t care if I never see you again. I want to be yours for this moment. For now.”
“Fuck.” He stepped back, turned, and with her still clinging to him, climbed the stairs. He kissed her all the way up. He kissed her in the hall. He kissed her at her bedroom door.
But he didn’t go inside.
She let her legs drop. They were wobbly and weak. Her knees felt like sponges. She clung to him, pulling him into her room. She kicked the door shut behind him. “Give me this one day. You owe it to me.”
“It’s not what you deserve.”
“I don’t care what you think I deserve. I want one day. Just one. Are you really going to tell me no?” She reached down, grabbed the bottom of her shirt and yanked it up over her head.
He froze in place, eyes drilling into hers. His lips parted slightly. His chest rose and fell, quickly. His cheeks burned a deep scarlet.
This was a man on the verge of snapping.
Feeling powerful, she reached around her back, unhooked her bra and let the straps slide down her arms.
His dark, lust-filled eyes traveled down her body, stopping at her chest.
She pulled in a deep breath and let the strap of her bra slip from her fingertips. “Just this one day. That’s all I expect.”
He reached a hand out, fingers stretched. When they touched her nipple, a blaze of heat rocketed through her. She shuddered.
“You are so…perfect. An angel.” He drew a circle around her nipple with the tip of his fingertip. At the intimate touch, tiny electric currents zapped through her system. “I don’t deserve—“
“Ssssh.” With one index finger pressed to her lips, she set her hand on top of his, flattening it against her breast. “No speaking.”
He nodded and stepped closer, his focus on her other breast. His tongue swept along his bottom lip. As if it knew what he was thinking, her nipple tightened. He dipped down and blew a gentle stream of air over it, and she closed her eyes and let her head fall back.
Would he please do something? Anything to ease the burning? Would he pull her nipple into his mouth and suckle hard? Would he strip off her pants and touch her down there? Her muscles were tensing, everywhere. Her scalp. The soles of her feet. Everywhere in between. If it got any worse, she might die.
Using the hand still pressed over his, she pushed down, forcing it to drag down her stomach, lower. At last it cupped her heated center. The pressure felt so good but it wasn’t enough.
She pushed harder, increasing the pressure and whimpered. “Hot. So hot.”
“My sweet angel.” He pulled her nipple into his mouth and she practically collapsed. Swiftly, he scooped her off her feet and set her on the bed. Then he angled over her, his upper body supported on his outstretched arms. “You’re trembling. Why?”
“I…I’m a virgin.”
“I’ll be careful. Do you have condoms? Lube?”
She nodded. “Top drawer.” She pointed at her dresser.
He kissed her sweetly then went to the dresser and gathered the supplies. In that time, she had a moment to think. Immediately a tiny niggle of doubt crept into her head. Yes, she wanted Aeron to be her first. But chances were this would be the only time they would do this. There might never be another chance. She hadn’t had sex before. She wasn’t sure how she would feel afterward. If he moved away and she never heard from him again, would she feel worse than if they hadn’t done this?
Maybe.
Maybe not.
She wrote romance novels. In her stories her characters always fell in love after they had sex. That was the way it was supposed to be. Sex. Love. Happily-forever-after. There couldn’t be a happily-forever-after for them.
Crap, what should she do? She sat up, letting her legs dangle over the edge of the bed.
He sat beside her, “Are you sure about this?”
She stared down at her hands. They were clasped together. Her knuckles were white. “I’m scared.”
He cupped her chin, lifted it. “Scared about what? About the pain?”
“Yes.” She could admit that much. But the rest, no. She had no doubt he would stop right then and there if she told him she was afraid she would be devastated after it was over if she never saw him again. Maybe she would regret this decision. Maybe she wouldn’t. But it was done, the choice had been made.
“I’ll be gentle. I promise. If you want me to stop, just say so.”
As if to prove how gentle he could be, he undressed her slowly and with great care. His fingers were deft, agile, strong but also tender. He caressed her skin as it was exposed and sprinkled little butterfly kisses down the front of both thighs. When he had her completely unclothed, he eased her down on the bed. She lay there, on her back, her hands curled around the covers, and watched him undress, down to his snug black boxer-briefs.
He was utterly beautiful. His tanned skin was smooth, stretched taut over defined muscle. His shoulders were broad, chest defined, abdominals bumpy, glorious. A line of dark hair arrowed to the waistband of his underwear, disappearing beneath. His shins and calves were covered in the same crisp, dark hair.
Yes, he was her novel’s hero, right down to the big lump in his underwear.
That lump.
Huge.
Thick.
Something bigger and harder coagulated in her throat. This was her first time. She hadn’t seen what was under that black cotton yet, but it looked huge.
What if it didn’t fit?
His eyes twinkled. “You look worried.” Guys. They so loved it when a girl reacted to the size of their you-know-what.
Now she wasn’t just scared but also embarrassed. Reacting to her humiliation, she tensed her arms, pressing them against the sides of her body. What she wanted to do was cover herself with them. Hide her shame, her embarrassment. “I am. A little. Have you…have you done this before?”
“I have. It’ll be okay. I promise.” Crawling on hands and knees, he positioned himself over her, legs and arms straddling her stretched out body. Oh, god. She was caged now, trapped. She was a little scared. Correction, she was pretty darn scared. She wanted to do this. She really did. But she didn’t want it to hurt. And she knew it was going to. She’d heard about it enough, in the girl’s locker room at school. She’d read about it too.
This was going to be one of the most awkward, uncomfortable and yet memorable experiences of her life. And it would be with Aeron, the man she dreamed about every night. The man she wrote about in every book. Every single one.
If she didn’t know better, she would swear they had been connected by some kind of magical, mysterious force. Brought together for some reason. Probably more than to have sex. But for now this was all she could have. One time. One day.
It would (somehow) have to be good enough. He would have her innocence. A gift she had saved for him, her dream hero, without realizing he had really existed.
Seventeen
Bending his arms, Aeron lowered himself onto Jenn. His weight rested on top of her, his long legs stretched over hers, one wedging slightly bet
ween her knees. He kissed her. With his lips, his tongue, his teeth, he helped her stop thinking and start feeling.
There were so many new sensations to relish. The heat of his body against hers. The glide of his skin over hers. His scent filling her nose. The sound of their kisses, soft smacks of lips and little sighs of pleasure.
One of his hands went wandering, skimming long the side of her torso to her hip. His touch was a fleeting caress. It made her skin tingle, little electric currents zapping under the surface. He sprinkled little kisses over her face, her mouth, cheeks, chin.
Then he crawled off her.
She missed his weight, his heat. Lying there, trying to pretend she wasn’t petrified, she watched as he grabbed the box of condoms he’d found in her dresser drawer. Her heart was thumping so hard against her breastbone, it ached. He dumped out the contents onto the bed. All of them. Then he rolled onto his side, facing her, his head propped on a bent arm. “You’re so beautiful. Your lip is quivering.”
“Yeah?”
“Mmmm. You look like I’m about to eat you up.”
She felt her face burning. She was blushing. “Well…”
“Maybe that’s what I need to do.” He sat up and placed a hand on each thigh, pushing them apart.
She felt her muscles contracting. She was resisting.
His hands slid up her legs until his thumbs were grazing her labia.
Oh. A blast of heat shot through her.
Sure a guy had touched her down there before. But that had been a while ago. And it had only been one guy, Bobby. Back then Bobby had made her heart skitter around a little. But he had never made her feel this hot, this desperate for his touch. The lightest, fleeting graze made her temperature spike. She could barely stand it.
“Open, Jennifer. I promise, you’ll like it. I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to.”
Clamping her eyes shut, she concentrated on relaxing her legs. Sure, Bobby had touched her down there. But he’d shoved his hands in her pants to do it. He hadn’t spread her wide like this, exposing her so fully. It felt so strange (and yet oddly thrilling) having Aeron staring at her like this.
Pulses of heat pounded between her legs as her thighs were gently pushed apart and back, knees bent. She was wet. The dampness cooled her warm folds as the chilly air hit them. She shivered, from the odd sensation and from the thrill buzzing along her nerves.
“Have you ever had a guy eat you?” Aeron asked.
“No.”
“Mmmm.” His fingertips touched her, and she twitched. “Relax.” His voice was low, a sweet, dark rumble. Soothing. She concentrated on breathing slowly. In. Out. He touched her again, parting her nether lips. Oh God, she couldn’t be more vulnerable. A stream of cool air hit her throbbing tissues and her stomach clenched. Then something warm flicked over the sensitive bud nestled between her folds. A blast of erotic heat ripped through her at the tiny, fleeting touch. “Wow. You’re so responsive. So…wet.”
Heat radiated from her face. She was wet. Sure. Did he have to point it out to her?
That warm thing, his tongue, touched her clitoris again, this time circling round and round it. With each circle, a wave of heat crashed over her. Her body tensed. Muscles pulled taut. Arms. Legs. Stomach.
She blinked open her eyes.
Oh God, his head was down there. Between her legs. He was…he was lapping at her now with his tongue. Slow, long swipes. It felt amazing. It felt so good she knew she was going to come. She couldn’t stop it.
As if he knew she was watching, he lifted his head. “You are so sweet, Jennifer. I can’t get enough.” Giving her a wicked, crooked grin, he pushed a finger into her then flicked his tongue back and forth over her clitoris.
Within seconds her insides were spasming around his finger. Pleasure was pulsing through her in waves, crashing through her body. Up to her scalp. Down to her toes. She was shuddering and quaking, so lost in the overwhelming sensations that she barely realized he had stopped stroking her. She heard the crinkle of plastic. He lay on top of her again. Then she felt something big nudging at her center.
His lips angled over hers. “Tell me to stop now. Tell me,” he whispered.
“No.” She lifted her hips, a plea for him to take her. She grabbed his head, two fists full of silky hair and yanked down, smashing his lips against hers. She kissed him, tongue sliding into his mouth.
“Oh God,” he mumbled. Their tongues tangled and battled. His won, claiming her mouth, possessing it. His hips jerked back then slammed forward.
The pain.
Sharp.
Burning.
She screamed, and he swallowed the sound. His hands cupped her face.
So full. Too full. Almost unbearable.
Was he all the way in? She felt as if he was hitting her womb. He was too big. Her tissues were tearing.
But she was afraid to move. She couldn’t even flutter an eyelash. Her hands were curled into fists, smooth waves gripped in them.
“Are you okay?” he asked, concern clear in his voice.
“Hurts.”
“Try to relax. You are so fucking tight.”
“Trying.” She scrunched up her face and concentrated on relaxing down there.
“Breathe. Slowly. In. Out,” he coaxed. “Look at me.”
She opened her eyes.
He was right there. Gazing down at her. So beautiful, like an angel. His eyes were full of emotion. Dark with desire and yet shadowed with concern too. “Tell me to stop.”
“No.” She couldn’t give up now. He had taken her innocence. This beautiful man. She would always remember this moment, as he looked into her eyes, showing her how much he cared. Even though she hurt, she couldn’t stop now. She couldn’t break that connection so soon. They were joined. Body. And mind. If she never did this with him again, she had to make this one time count. “Don’t stop.”
He moved inside her. Slowly pulling out.
“No,” she pleaded. “No!” She tightened her hold on his hair.
“Ssssh.” He dipped his head down. His lips barely grazed hers. It was a tease. She tried to pull him down again, but he resisted, making sure his lips barely touched hers. “Ssssh.”
Just as slowly as he’d withdrawn, he pushed deep inside again. This time there wasn’t a blast of pain. Her body seemed to be adjusting to his girth and length. The third stroke felt better. In and out. And the fourth, better yet. As he slid in and out, nerves deep inside tingled and zapped. Tiny quivers of need buzzed up her spine.
Again and again he glided in and out of her. Her canal gripped him tightly. With each inward thrust, the heat spiraling through her body amplified until she felt as if she were burning up from the inside out. The instant she felt her climax take over her body, she opened her eyes and stared into his. His eyes were dark and yet full of emotion. His jaw was tight, his face flushed a deep scarlet.
“If I could,” he whispered, “I would do this again and again and again. You would be mine, Jennifer. Forever mine.” He slammed his hips forward and tossed his head back, surrendering to the pleasure of his orgasm. And she clung to him and wept. It was over. The magical moment had passed. Too quickly.
If only he could do that, if only he could make her his forever.
He pulled out before the tingles had faded. Gazing down at her, he smiled and sweetly brushed her hair off her face. “Are you crying? Do you hurt?”
She did. She hurt. But probably not the way he was thinking. Knowing she might never share such an amazing intimacy with Aeron again was what hurt, though she was sore too. Tender.
He cupped her sex, and she winced at the pressure. “Warm washcloth. That’s what you need. I’ll get it.”
“No, that’s okay. I will.” She felt her face paling as he lifted his hand.
Blood. Her blood.
His lips curved into a gentle smile. “It’s not so bad. A little blood.”
“I’ll get a washcloth.” She slapped her legs together, hopped out of bed so
fast he probably thought the mattress was on fire, grabbed her robe, draped over the chair by her dressing table and ran from the room, slamming the door behind her. She shrugged into her robe and quickly tied the belt. Then, leaning back, she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Her legs felt soft and mushy, like her bones had turned to mush.
When she opened them, Bobby was standing in front of her.
She stuttered, “Oh, Bobby. I…um…”
His gaze went to her door. It was closed. But she knew why he was staring at it. He was fully aware of who was in there. He’d heard them.
He knew.
Crap.
His eyes finally found hers again. They were full of emotion.
Crap.
She had to say something. Anything. “I…”
“You don’t have to explain. We aren’t at that point yet, are we? Where we have to explain what we do?”
“Well…” What could she say? She’d just had sex with another guy. With Bobby right there, standing in the hallway. It wasn’t like he’d believe her if she told him the truth, that Aeron was leaving soon and he’d be gone forever. This was a once-in-a-lifetime thing.
No, probably not.
“I was resting for a while and then I got cold so I put on my robe.”
Bobby’s gaze slid south a little, to the v-necked opening of her robe. Now that she thought about it, there was no material visible in that gap. He knew she wasn’t wearing any clothes under it. And that led to only one conclusion—that she’d been naked with Aeron. And that she was trying to avoid admitting it.
He’d just caught her having sex with someone else. That was the one thing Bobby had wanted her to do with him when they’d been dating. To see her now, having sex with someone else, probably stung like a slap in the face.
What had she been thinking?
