by Donya Lynne
In a lot of ways, I’m seeing Gunner for the first time again. Once more, we’re finding our way with one another.
He scoots closer, extending his arm over my legs to rest his hand on the mattress beside my hip. “After what we did last night, you’re still shy?”
I nod and tuck my face more deeply toward my chest.
He dips his nose into my hair and whispers, “You’re adorable when you’re shy, Cameron, but I don’t want you shy. I want you telling me how you want it so I can give it to you.”
I lift my wide-eyed gaze to his. “What if I don’t know how I want it?”
The corners of his mouth turn up, and his eyes narrow as if he just proved something he already knew. “You’re still a virgin, aren’t you?”
Heat blasts into my face, and I bite my lip. “Is it bad if I am?” I don’t want him to change his mind and leave just because I’ve never had sex.
He shakes his head and catches my chin between his thumb and forefinger, preventing me from looking away. “No. That’s not bad at all.”
“But I’ve never done this before. I don’t know what I want.” I want him, but I know that’s not what he’s asking. He wants details. Hard or soft? Fast or slow? Do I like my breasts played with or not? And about a million other questions I don’t have the answers to.
His lips brush over my cheek as he slides his mouth up to my ear. “Then I guess I’ll have to help you figure that out,” he whispers.
Feverish waves wash through me as he eases me back on the bed and takes off his shirt, leaving him in only a pair of nylon athletic shorts. He pulls back the covers and slides into bed beside me. For the longest time, he remains propped on his elbow, gazing into my eyes, running his fingertips up and down my arms, creating a pleasant sensation that slowly relaxes me.
“That feels good.” I smile up at him.
He smiles back. “That’s a start.”
His fingers glide over my bare shoulders, back and forth over my collarbones. With each pass, his hand drops a little lower, toward my chest. Toward the boundary between my skin and the sheer nighty. I watch his face. His gaze follows his fingers, crawling lower. Heat blooms low in my belly, and my breathing accelerates.
When the tips of his fingers skim along the top of the fabric, I shiver.
“Do you like this, too?” He does it again.
“Y-yes.”
“What about this?” His fingers sweep lower, making a circle around my nipple.
I inhale sharply and arch into his touch as tiny explosions fan out from my breast.
He chuckles darkly. “I take that as a yes.”
All I can do is nod. And pant. I’m definitely panting. I might even have moaned a little.
His hand glides over my breasts, teasing my nipples into erect nubs. All the while, his gaze travels over my body as if he’s seeing me with fresh eyes.
He continues touching me, caressing me. We don’t speak. Aside from our heavy breaths and occasional soft moans, we don’t make a sound. But the more he touches me, the more of him I want. I want his hands all over my body. I want his mouth on me again, the way it was on me last night. I want to feel him. All of him.
Staring at the shadows playing over his muscled arm in the darkness, I lick my lips and tentatively reach out.
He stops and brings his gaze to mine just as my palm closes over his forearm. He feels solid and warm, strong, and I slowly trail my hand over his elbow to his biceps. His muscles flinch under my fingers as if my touch elicits a reflexive response.
I’ve never touched Gunner like this. So intimately. He’s smooth and hard. Like steel wrapped in suede.
I blink my gaze to his and bite my bottom lip at the hungry way he’s staring at me.
“I like touching you.” I flatten my palm against his firm chest and feel it swell as he inhales.
He places his hand over mine, bends forward, and brushes his lips over my mouth. “I like it when you touch me.”
My lips simmer from his kiss, and I give him a faint nod, eager to do anything he asks.
He searches my face as if seeking permission. Whatever he finds in my expression must grant it, because a moment later, he gently eases himself on top of me. My legs naturally part so he can settle into the cradle of my body.
That’s when I notice the tattoo on his chest and shoulder. In the darkness, it’s hard to see, and I can’t tell what it is, but—a tattoo! How dangerous! How atypical of him! Just the thought of quiet, mild-mannered Gunner with a tattoo is enough to send a thrill through my girly parts.
“When did you get a tattoo?” I run the tips of my fingers over the shadowy pattern.
“In October.”
I peer closer but still can’t make out what it is. “What is it?”
He only smirks. “I’ll show you later.” He licks his lips. “Right now . . .” He dips down and presses a sensuous, full-lipped kiss against the swell of my breast, shutting off all thoughts of his tattoo. “My mind’s on other things.”
Mine suddenly is, too.
His fingers glide up the outside of my thigh to my hip. He looks up at me, and one of his eyebrows ticks upward. “You’re not wearing any panties.”
My skin sizzles as his palm settles around my hip, his fingers sinking into the flesh of my bottom as he squeezes. Hummingbirds take flight in my stomach.
I can barely find my voice to reply. “Your note said not to.”
“I know, but I wasn’t sure you’d go through with it.”
“I wasn’t, either.”
“But you did.” His fingers swish side to side on my bare hip. “So, what shall I do to you?” His voice rumbles ponderously.
I still can’t believe this is happening, but I can’t bring myself to question his motives right now. I just want more of what we did last night, more of his touch, more of him on top of me.
And since I’ve never done any of this before, I’m no help. Even if I had done this before, I’m so tongue-tied and twisted by the shock that he’s actually in my bed that I couldn’t vocalize what I want even if I knew.
He holds his body up on one elbow and plays with the spaghetti strap over my shoulder. “I guess I’ll just have to keep making my way around your body and find out what else you like.”
I nod, unsure of what else to do while under the intoxicating influence of this getting-sexier-by-the-second man I’ve always wanted but never thought I would have. I hoped, but I never dreamed anything like this would happen, especially when he never showed any interest in me. Or did he, and I just never noticed it?
He gently tugs the elastic bodice away from my left breast, but stops before revealing my nipple. “Is this okay?”
Unable to speak, I nod.
He nudges the fabric lower, and I hold my breath. And still lower, until with one final tug, he exposes my nipple at the same moment I expel the breath I’d been holding.
Goosebumps burst all over my body, making me shiver. The only people who’ve seen me naked are my parents when I was a little girl, and the girls in my gym class.
As his mouth closes around my puckered nipple, my eyes roll back. I close them, issuing a long moan as heat erupts through my back and shoulders, sweeping down through my stomach to jolt me between the legs.
“Do you like this?” he says softly, before flicking his tongue back and forth.
I lick my lips and open my eyes, glancing down to see his mouth engulf my nipple once more. With a shudder, I inhale then whisper, “Yes,” as I exhale.
He grins and pulls down the fabric over my right breast, shifting his weight so his mouth hovers directly over my right nipple. “And this . . .?” His lips close and draw my flesh over his tongue.
I shudder and nod. “Uh-huh.”
Gunner sure knows what he’s doing. It’s obvious he’s done this before.
I’m not sure how I feel about that. On one hand, I’m happy he comes skilled. If he didn’t know what he was doing as much as I don’t, this experience would be something els
e entirely.
On the other hand, the fact that he knows how to please a woman means he’s done this with other girls.
How many others have felt his mouth on them like this? How many girls has he been with to give him his mastery over my body? He obviously knows what girls like and how to get them hot, but just how experienced is he?
He leaves a trail of kisses up my chest, and I tip my head back as he nibbles the side of my neck.
“And this? Do you like this, too?” His lips caress my neck, right below my ear. Then the tip of his tongue sweeps down to my collarbone.
I like everything he’s doing to me. My God, I’m practically floating, it’s so good.
“Y-yes.”
He nips a simmering trail up the other side of my neck then closes his lips over my skin.
I’m nodding, moaning, panting. “I like when you do that,” I whisper, closing my eyes again and squirming under him, bending my legs, involuntarily rocking my hips as need and arousal spear the heart of me.
He groans and rolls his body in a long, luxurious wave as he brings his mouth to mine and draws my bottom lip between his teeth on a growl. At least it sounds like a growl. Whatever it was, I like it. It’s hot. It’s the sound I imagine a man makes when he wants something badly enough to let his inner caveman come through. The kind of sound that says he likes what I’m doing, too.
Following his lead, I bite his bottom lip, sucking it into my mouth the way he did mine, the student taking a note from the teacher. He moans again, sinking against me, rolling his hips, his hardness pressing right where it makes me feel good.
Without my panties, all that’s between us is the thin, slippery nylon of his shorts, and the friction his body creates with mine is the kind that I create with my finger when I want to make myself come, only better.
I gasp, locking my arms around him, lifting my hips to increase the pressure.
The dark, silky moan that escapes his throat is one of surprise and approval. “Do you like that?” he whispers against my mouth.
I nod, my gaze locked to his, boldness replacing timidity. With each passing moment, my body’s needs take over, kicking my shyness and fear into the shadows. All that’s left is wanton desire. Lust. Hunger. The need to come and release all this pent-up energy coiling within my belly.
He rocks against me again, sending shards of fire and ice through my body. “Can you come like this?”
I nod eagerly, wrapping my legs around his, grinding myself against him. I’ve masturbated enough to know the kind of friction I need to get off. If we keep moving against one another this way, it’s only a matter of time before I explode. An orgasm is already budding inside me.
“Then come for me,” he says forcefully. “Let me feel it. Let me see it.”
As his mouth crashes over mine, he grabs my arms and thrusts them to the mattress before shoving them over my head, pushing my pillow against the headboard. His body rolls and rocks against mine, but he keeps the pressure between my legs, his hardness rubbing against me in the most perfect way as his mouth assaults mine.
This is so much better than my finger. So much better than masturbation. We’re all tongues, lips, mouths, and fire, moving against one another like we’re having sex, the only thing between us a thin layer of nylon.
“Tell me when you’re close,” he growls before driving his tongue into my mouth.
He’s overwhelming my senses. His energy is heat and lava and surging ocean waves.
“I’m close,” I murmur, straining against the hold he has on my wrists.
God, he’s good. This is better than I thought it could be. I never imagined being with him could be like this.
His grip loosens on my arms as he surges forward and back, stimulating my clit as the sensations rise inside me. Sensations that let me know I’m about to fall over the edge. Will he catch me?
“Hold me as you come,” he murmurs against my teeth.
I’m almost there. So close. Every part of me tightens as I rock my hips with increased urgency, needing just a little . . . bit . . . more.
“Ah!” I fling my arms around him, arching off the mattress as I crest.
His mouth smashes against mine, and he’s drinking in all of me as I gasp and cry out, shuddering and quaking beneath him as my climax plows into me.
I’ve never felt anything like this. Ever!
It’s like I’ve flown into heaven. For a few brief seconds, I know what it’s like to die and pass through the pearly gates. Then I’m back inside my body again, my arms and legs clamped so tightly around him that it’s a wonder he can breathe.
I unravel myself, and he quickly rolls to the side.
“Give me your hand,” he says in a rush, snatching it as he shoves down the waist of his shorts.
He’s so big! Then again, I have nothing and no one to compare him to.
Before I have much of a chance to admire the hard length that just sent me to the moon, he places my hand on his cock then wraps his hand around mine. Our fingers intertwine as he guides me to stroke him fast and hard.
“Jesus!” He slams the back of his head against the pillow then looks at me. “Kiss me.”
I push toward him, finding his mouth with mine as he jacks our joined hands up and down his erection.
He’s tense and breathing hard, sucking in huge gulps of air through his nose as his lips devour mine, his tongue diving into my mouth.
I feel him grow harder beneath my palm as he seems to swell even more, and then he breaks our kiss.
“Oh, God, Cami, I’m coming!”
For a split second, everything goes still. His hand, his body, his very soul, and then he grunts hard as his erection jerks in my hand. His eyes lock to mine then close as his head falls back, and his whole body pulses as a stream of semen shoots out and lands on his washboard stomach, which twitches with each kick of his erection as he continues working my hand up and down his shaft in punctuated strokes.
It’s the most incredible, sexiest thing I’ve ever witnessed. And I did it. I helped. My hand was on him when he came. It was my mouth kissing his, my eyes he looked into, my name he cried out.
We did this together. We came as one. Both of us. He helped me reach release, and I helped him.
This is the single most glorious moment in my life. Gunner wants me as much as I want him.
He sighs and swallows, his glazed eyes still on mine. Licking his lips, he reaches around with his left hand. The hand that put a death grip on my comforter while he helped me stroke him with the other. He wordlessly brushes the hair off my face as if his thoughts are too scrambled to speak.
For the longest time, he just stares at me, caressing my face. Our joined hands are still wrapped around his cock, but it’s softening.
The excitement over.
“Cameron?” He speaks my name as if he’s addressing a princess.
“Yes?”
He cups my cheek. When he speaks again, his voice is dark and serious, almost foreboding, as if he’s giving me a warning. “What we just did . . .?”
I hold my breath. Oh God, is he going to tell me we can never do it again? I don’t think I could handle that.
His gaze locks expectantly to mine. “Before I go back to Ohio State, we’re going to do that again. And when we do, I’m going to be inside you.”
My mouth falls open, but I have no words to speak.
I was wrong. The excitement isn’t over. It’s just beginning.
Chapter 6
For the next week, Gunner and I fall into a pattern. I’ve got finals before my Christmas break starts, so I’m at school during the day, but when I’m not, Gunner and I act like nothing is going on between us. Some days he barely even talks to me, even when he helps me study for my calculus exam. He was always a math wiz.
But while the days reveal nothing of the growing intimacy between us, the nights are ours. He comes to my bed every night, and each time he does, he takes things a little bit further.
The first nigh
t, he goes down on me again, inserting a finger. I’ve done that before, but when he does, it feels different. Better. And I come the hardest yet as he finds the special place inside me that always makes my orgasms more intense.
The second night, he walks me through my first blow job. He seems impressed with my novice skills, which emboldens me to take him in my mouth again on the third night, when I experience my first sixty-nine.
On the fourth night, he pulls me on top of him. He’s completely naked and I’m wearing only my panties, and we go through the motions of having sex again. He lets me come first then flips me onto my back and masturbates onto my stomach.
Feeling his fluid shoot all over my skin, so hot and sticky, makes me feel like he’s marking me as his. I belong to him now.
I’ve never looked forward to going to bed as much as I have since Gunner started visiting my room every night. And with my parents attending parties and holiday dinners almost every evening, we have ample opportunity to spend time together.
The weekend before Christmas, I get a text from my best friend, Julie.
Christmas party at the Walkers’ house tonight. You in?
Brenna and Zane Walker’s parents live in a humongous mansion about ten minutes from my house. Brenna is my age, but Zane is the same age as Nick and Gunner, and they were pretty good friends in high school. No doubt Gunner will be at the party, too. When the Walker kids host a party, it’s epic, and everyone attends.
I type out a reply.
Sounds fun. See you there.
It will be even more fun if Gunner goes.
I haven’t told Julie about Gunner, yet. Something about what he and I are doing feels too special—too secret—to blurt even to my best friend, as if the moment I tell anyone what we’ve done, the magic bubble will burst, and it will all be over. I don’t want it to be over, so the only people who know what he and I are doing are us.
Mom and Dad have yet another holiday party to go to tonight, and it’s another all-nighter, so as Nick, Gunner, and I head out, they tell us to have a good time and that they’ll see us in the morning.
