Christina (Daughters #1)

by Leanne Davis

  His tongue is hesitant, almost shy, touching only the tip to my lips. He is going very slowly. Is he worried? That does something to my heart. He’s so fearless and cold to the outside world, yet with me, he’s so innocent and unsure. He really wants to share himself with me, but just isn’t confident, or comfortable doing so yet. A weird bubble rises up in my chest. It’s pride and hope because it means so much to see how hard he tries to please me.

  It also really turns me on.

  My body turns to jelly as all those feelings swirl around inside me. The tip of his tongue touches my lips and I groan my response. His hand flips my shirt up. He lifts my bra above my boob and presses his hand flat over my breast. My nipple instantly turns into a hard knot against his palm. He slides his hand back and forth, and my entire body reacts. I shift my hips towards his and feel like clawing his back to bring him closer to me. But I don’t. It’s kind of a turn-on as I try to restrain my urges and keep myself relaxed.

  “Do you mind doing that?” I ask as he kisses me. He lifts his head high enough so his gaze meets mine. A small, tender smile appears.

  “I like it more than most things.”

  “Why? I mean, you’re still touching me.”

  “I guess, because I know it’s touching for a reason and a purpose. I’m touching you there to have sex. I’m sorry.” He lowers his head and I can see his regret at using those words in his eyes.

  “Max,” I whisper, making him lift his face back toward me. “It’s okay. I just wondered. You don’t have to apologize for who you are. But we have to be able to communicate about everything, or none of this will work.”

  “This is communicating?” His eyebrows rise.

  “How will I figure all this out if I don’t ask?”

  His hand moves again over my breast and I lift my chest up towards him. “If you have to limit your touch, FYI, I like this. A lot. It’s my favorite.”

  A kind of shy smile lifts his lips and the effect on my heart is instantaneous. “Favorite. Noted and recorded.” He suddenly moves to straddle me. I’m surprised at the speed with which his other hand comes under my shirt. He pulls on my shirt and I lift my torso to help him remove it. Gently tucking my hair out of the way, he lets it fall through his fingers before landing on the pillow beneath me. I watch him as he watches it. I’m a little surprised he’s doing so. It’s kind of an emotional, tender move, like nothing I experienced with Max before. Plus… he’s touching me.

  “You like my hair?” I ask. His eyes jerk to mine, and a blush reddens his cheeks. Or maybe he’s as flushed as I feel.

  “Yeah. It’s sexy. I always wondered what it would look like spread out all over me.”

  “Now you can find out,” I whisper back, in a husky tone. Was that me? I don’t recognize my own words.

  He smiles and nods. “I am.”

  He shifts his focus back to my bra before making quick work of unhooking it and sliding it off my shoulders. Tossing it away, his gaze grows darker. I swear, his eyes practically spark as he stares at my naked boobs. They aren’t all that spectacular. I just barely fill a B cup. They are high and pointed and perky, but only little mounds to play with. Both of his hands come up and he flicks both ends of my nipples at the same time. I moan and rise up towards the heat of his hands. He leans down and his mouth laps and pulls on mine. I almost forget and bury my hands in his hair. It’s so silky. The one time I touched it, I loved how smooth and soft it was, separating between my fingers. But for now, I clasp my hands tighter and simply lean towards his mouth. I let the tugging that starts from my breasts blaze a trail of hot desire through all of my nerve endings. It’s intense. He switches sides and puts his fingertips up to play with the wet end of my nipple. The blissful sensations all collide as I squirm, trying to reach towards something more. I make faint sounds of growing desire.

  He stops long enough to move down towards my feet, pulling off the black leggings on the way. Off they come. He even discards my socks. His gaze roams over my body. I’m bathed in the soft lamplight. I twist my legs around, feeling his eyes on me and that drives me crazy with desire. He stands beside the bed and starts taking off his shirt, which he throws off casually. I sit up to watch him. It’s a luxury I fully enjoy. Now that I have it, I don’t intend to waste it. He smiles a little when he catches my hungry gaze on his rippled abs. I love the dark sheen of his skin. I love the way he grins, aware that he’s attractive, and yet, a bit of vulnerability escapes from his grin, as if he’s wondering if he’s good enough. His hands go to his jeans and I scoot onto my knees. “Can I?” I wave my hand towards the waistband of his jeans.

  He hesitates, stopping his hand as if it were stuck on his jean button. Finally, he nods. I walk on my knees to the end of the bed and set my hand on the jeans material. I’m careful to not slide my hands all over his abdomen muscles like I’d really love to. But I don’t. I undo the button and slowly slide the zipper down on his jeans. I glance up to find him watching what my hands are doing and his expression screams with desire. This is not freaking him out.

  I peel back his jeans. His desire for me springs toward my hands, like a heat-seeking missile. I touch him. I make a fist around his shaft with my hand and he groans in appreciation. I use my other hand to push his jeans toward his knees before I drop down to slide them all the way off. He deftly steps out of them. I rise up and we stand there, naked, together for the very first time in our five-year history. Both of our eyes travel everywhere. From our faces, to our torsos, to our mid sections and even our feet. I shift my feet a bit. “I love how you look,” I finally say after a long perusal.

  “That’s pretty mutual. But… I hate how short I am.”

  “But you’re not too short for me. See? Perfect fit,” I grin and step closer so the top of my head is just at his chin. I look up at him, keeping my hands at my side.

  His erection is touching me; I’m that close to him. He shifts his weight, barely moving towards me. It feels hard and very warm. “You said you liked touching my breasts, right?”

  “Uh, yeah?” He doesn’t know what to make of my question.

  “Trust me then?”

  “O—kay,” he says, drawing out his syllables. No, he doesn’t trust me really. But he will try to. I turn around and lean back into him, his erection now pressed right up against my butt. Just a little of my back touches his chest. “Touch them.” I demand.

  His hands are hanging at his sides and he lifts them under me, palming a breast with each hand. His fingers start playing with my nipples until they distend. I close my eyes, letting my head fall back. He lets it land on his shoulder, and tenses at first, but when I keep my own hands at my sides, he seems to relax.

  “Like this,” I whisper as his fingers play and twist with my tits. A rush of wetness feels warm between my legs.

  “Like this?” His voice is right at my ear and his tone changes. There is no question or doubt in it anymore. He drops one of his hands between my legs and touches me. I arch my back into his chest and nearly pant when his fingers dance along my opening. Wetness coats his fingertips and I moan, shifting my weight to spread my legs. His index finger and thumb just barely hold my clit and he puts the right amount of pressure on it. I feel him growing harder and I push myself backward, trapping him closer. He groans at the pressure and shifts his hand delving his fingers deep inside me. Hot and fast, a riot of feelings now start swirling inside me. My eyes are closed, and I swear, there are colors spiraling behind my eyelids. His one hand pinches and twists my sensitized nipple as the other explores inside of me and the pressure and pleasure he creates almost melt me to the floor.

  “Now, I need you now, Max,” I mumble. I’m incoherent. I don’t care. I’ll beg him.

  He lets go of me and I almost cry out. He kneels behind me. I’m startled until I realize he’s digging into his jeans and wallet. He finds a condom, and smiles, holding it up. “No mistakes.”

  “No more mistakes,” I whisper, smiling as he expertly puts it on. He almost shocks
me when he scoots towards me and kneels beside me.

  His hands come to my thighs and he says gently, “Part your legs.”

  Okay, more than I expected. He’s just right there. I’m not shy, but this takes up close and personal to a whole new level. I hesitate. He grins up at me. “Trust me.”

  His smile is hot, challenging, and so obvious, I can tell he is having a lot of fun trying to shock me. Now mimicking me, I grin back and say, “Always,” widening my legs.

  “This is a good angle for you,” he mumbles, placing his mouth on my inner thigh and then climbing higher. When he touches me there, I nearly collapse. I don’t know how to hold myself up when the hot, slick wet sensations he evokes from just the slightest pressure of his lips and tongue overwhelm me. I’m swollen with need and lust. His actions create a long, deep moan of pleasure from my chest. He slowly kisses his way until he gradually rises back up behind me. Putting his hands on my tits again, I lean back against him. He drops his hands to my waist and lifts me just enough that the end of his hard cock is right at my entrance. I fall back into his embrace, as limp as a rag doll. He gently pushes up inside me. Deep. He goes oh-so-deep and oh-so-slowly. I close my eyes and nearly convulse over how good it feels. He fills me up and I burn and ache. I want to suddenly ride him long and hard to finally ease this almost unbearable longing inside me. “Oh Max. Oh God.” The sound I make is somewhere between a moan and a scream. His breath heats the side of my face as his lips kiss my neck.

  “Lean over the bed, Christina,” he says softly. I do, and he comes behind me pushing into me, but now harder. I push back towards him, trying to get even more of him inside me. My body is open and wet and alive. I’m in ecstasy. It is exactly what sex should be! If this is how good it feels, despite any touching for the rest of our lives, then count me in! I’m there. I’m sold. This is fan-fucking-tastic.

  He comes out, slowly, then comes back into me so hard, our bodies shake. He leans over me. “Too much?”

  I love it that he asks me. He cares. I love knowing he can finally talk to me. “No. More.” I’m nearly incoherent with lust. I can’t articulate. But he gets the picture. He comes into me over and over and over again. The bed frame hits the wall every time he thrusts deep inside me, and my body silently cries in joy over it. Harder. Oh my God. I didn’t know it could get this hard and feel so fulfilling so fast. I feel like the entire universe has shifted and tilted the earth. All the things I used to think were true, I don’t anymore. I swear, I’m not even aware that I come, being so lost in my dark red haze of desire. I enter a nearly numbing bliss; I’m boneless and almost unaware when he comes into me with a last deep, hard thrust that leaves him leaning completely over me. I wonder if he’s fainted. Yeah, it’s that good. It think fainting is a reasonable possibility.

  He groans and shifts to the side of me, pushing my hair away. I lie there, still face down on the bed. “Are you okay?” I hear the hesitation as he realizes I haven’t moved.

  I turn my head to the side and mumble, “I can’t move. I died. I think you killed me with mind-blowing sex.”

  He starts to laugh, and the worried look leaves his face. A happy, almost glowing smile brightens his expression. I’ve never seen Max look so happy. Something about it twists my heart. I swear, it’s better than the orgasm that nearly made me pass out. I turn towards him and almost put my hands on him, but stop myself. He moves us up so we’re in the middle of the bed. Staring at each other. Smiling. We smile like a couple of kids who were just let loose in a candy store with unlimited funds to spend. That’s because we have all night. We have tomorrow too. I think, I really do, that we have the rest of our lives to do this.

  He reaches out and tucks my hair behind my ear. It’s sweaty along my hairline, but I don’t care. I feel sexy, alive, wanted, even cherished. It doesn’t matter if the man who makes me feel that way can’t easily show it. “I love you, Christina.” His tone now is soft and serious, in contrast to all the heat, moans, and outright screams that came from our motel room not even five minutes ago. It’s a tone that indicates he’s mine forever.

  “We should make a list.”

  His expression turns puzzled at my strange response. “A list?”

  “Yeah, of all our favorite positions. Then we can rate them. See what needs changing, or tweaking…”

  “You want to rate and score how we have sex?”

  “Don’t you? How can anything top what we just did? But we should try. I mean, no one reaches their sexual peak at age eighteen right? So imagine the thousands of times we’ll have to keep doing it.”

  “Thousands?” His eyebrows rise in shock.

  “Forever means a lot of sex, Max.”

  He finally gets it. His face shows disbelief as well as relief and love. I see so much love shining toward me as he leans over to kiss me. “Forever does mean a lot of sex.”

  We grin. Later that night, we discover two more positions that are now tied with that one.

  Chapter Nineteen

  ~Christina~

  WHEN WE PULL INTO my driveway, both my parents are waiting on the front porch. They both look anxious with worry. I get out of the car, and glance at Max across the roof for courage. He gives me a small smile and nods, reassuring me I can do this. I take in a deep breath before I face my parents.

  My mom steps towards me first. I don’t know what to expect. Will she slap me? Walk away? Yell at me? No! None of the above! I’m shocked when she simply grabs me and starts hugging me. She clasps me hard to her chest and my own limp arms wrap around her waist as I clutch her and start to cry. I feel Mom’s chest jerking with her own sobs. She finally leans back to look at me, still clutching my shoulders. “What were you thinking, Tiny?” Her voice is soft and gentle. Her mom voice.

  “I just had to see her.”

  Mom’s shoulders droop as if weighed down by my words. “I know. Curious Christina, I know. You had to see. Did you find what you were looking for?”

  I draw in a breath, and nod finally, sucking in some snot. “Natalie, the woman I visited, she’s… she’s my sister.”

  Mom kind of bows and then straightens up. Her weary eyes look glassy. I’ve caused her so much pain. “She confirmed that?”

  “No. She wanted nothing to do with me. She pretty much listened to us for about five minutes before she kicked us out. Politely, of course, but she kicked us out, never the less.”

  “Then how do you know she is the right woman?” Mom’s voice falters.

  “She had your eyes. Your hair. My eyes. My hair,” I answer softly. I try to lessen the impact of my words, but I know it will hurt her no matter what.

  “Except her skin was darker.”

  “Yes.”

  Mom sucks in a long breath and shuts her eyes for a brief moment. Then she opens her eyes to me. “Did it help you?”

  “I got an answer. So yes; but it hurt me too, and I wish it had ended differently. I needed to know what happened to her.”

  Mom nods and stands up straighter, pulling her shoulders back, as if preparing to salute. “Then I’m glad you found what you needed.”

  “I’m sorry it didn’t coincide with what you needed.”

  She smiles and loops an arm around my shoulders and squeezes. “I’m just sorry you weren’t more satisfied. And didn’t tell me what you felt so obligated to do.”

  “I was afraid you’d try to stop me.”

  “I might have. So I guess that was necessary. Again, I really am sorry you didn’t get what you wanted from the whole experience.”

  “I can’t say that totally either,” I reply softly. Mom stops and looks down at me, and then at Max. Comprehension dawns in her eyes. She smiles and touches my chin before placing her lips to my forehead. “Then I’m happy you went.”

  I lift my eyes from where my mom is leaning her head on mine. Max is watching us, his hands in his pockets. I know he wants to come near me, to be there for me. I glance towards the house, and see my dad standing there, completely mute. He stares
at me, then at Max. His mouth flat-lines before he turns and walks away.

  My stomach clenches. Rarely does my dad completely dismiss me with a look, much less, a word. Usually, he has way too many words. I make a weird, little sound of distress. My mom hugs me again. “He was just really worried about you, honey. He’ll calm down. He just can’t stand when you go off so independently and do things like that.”

  Max approaches me. He stands right next to me, but doesn’t touch me. His face is drawn with concern. He can’t stand touching when he’s like this. Too much stress, anxiety, and anger. He needs more space. Even if he truly loves me, I know better than to touch him right now. Maybe later. I can deal with it though.

  Dad heads towards his shop. “I think I’m going to try to talk to him. Okay?”

  Mom smiles. “Come on in, Max. Nothing like imagining how my nephew will be as my daughter’s boyfriend! Yeah, why start trying to be normal? That’s not our way, is it?” Her voice is kind of dry and sarcastic, but she’s right. I watch them enter the house before I walk out to find my dad.

  “Dad?” I come up behind him. He’s standing at a workbench. I doubt he’s actually doing anything. I think he’s mad and pretending to clean up by banging drawers around. But he’s so naturally organized, there’s really nothing to clean.

  His shoulders jerk to attention at the sound of my voice.

  “Dad? You have to acknowledge me.” He shifts his arm over his chest and finally turns. “You’ve been mad at me since I found out all that stuff about Mom and you. It’s your history, not mine. You can’t be mad at me for trying to process it.”

  “I can be mad at you for taking off across two states on the very day before we are supposed to be taking you to college! And now? Now, your little joyride has made you late to start your classes. That is, if you’re still starting them! Maybe you and Max intend to shack up and—”

  “Dad,” I say softly. Calmly. Ending his rant. His posture sags. “I’m not shacking up with anyone.”