by Jenna Reed
“I’m coming…” I cry out, twisting against the mattress. Elijah ups his pace, his fingers stretching me to the point of pain, but behind that pain is pleasure, red hot, soul searing pleasure, and when it slams into me, the tension unraveling from within my core, I see stars. My muscles tighten and my pussy clenches around his fingers, my release gushing onto his palm.
“Mmm, delicious, like the world’s best fucking honey.” His fingers slip out of me, and I’m left cold, needing more, wanting more. Through hooded eyes, I watch him sit back on his knees and place his fingers on his tongue, closing his lips around them. His eyes fall closed and the look on his face is... it’s indescribable.
“Perfection,” he mumbles after taking his fingers out of his mouth, the same fingers that were just inside me seconds ago. God, this man. When he blinks his eyes open, I see a man filled to the brim with unbridled passion, a man consumed with need.
With a crazed look, he dips his fingers into his boxers and shoves them down, freeing his very large, very erect cock. I hope he doesn’t notice me gulping as I take in his sizable member.
Is it going to fit? Gosh, I hope so otherwise, I suppose I’m going to be dying a very painful death. I can see it now, woman dies from large cock.
“You look nervous all of the sudden. You still sure about this?”
I want to cup him by the cheeks and kiss him for being so attentive but I don’t.
“Yes… please,” I respond, lip curling up into a smile.
“Oh, thank fuck. If you would have said you didn’t want to do this anymore, I think my balls would’ve exploded.”
I try and hide my growing smile, his confession making me feel like I’m on that roller coaster of emotions again.
He crawls up and over my body, hovering a few inches above me. Cinnamon and mint tickle my nostrils, the scent alluring, and calming all at once. With one arm against the mattress beside my head, he braces himself. Anxiously, I watch him take his cock into his other hand, giving the oversized mammoth a couple strokes before lining himself up with my entrance.
“Fuck…” He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. “Birth control? Do I need to use a condom?” When he blinks his eyes back open, I can see that he’s barely restraining himself, his upper body trembling.
I lick my suddenly dry lips and shake my head. “No... I mean... if you want you can, but I’m on the shot. You don’t have to... I mean...” Fire blazes against my cheeks as I stutter out my response.
“I’ve never done it without a condom, so you’ll be my first.” He leans into my face and presses a kiss to my forehead. “And I’m clean… I wouldn’t ever touch you if I wasn’t.”
“I’m glad I’ll be your first,” I whisper as the smooth head of his cock touches my folds. A second later, that smile slips and a tiny wave of panic washes over me. Feeling as if there’s only one thing I can do, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull his face into mine, crashing our lips together. Bliss. That’s what this is.
His lips part and his tongue nudges against the seam of my lips, begging for entry. I open to him and our tongues meet, a sinful pleasure pulsing through my veins at their touch. A second later I feel his length at my entrance, teasing it, probing it with nothing more than the velvety head. Wanting him to claim me everywhere, I spread my legs wider, giving him more room, better access. I exhale the breath I wasn’t even aware I was holding and prepare for the pain that I know will come.
I moan into his mouth as he slowly works his way inside of me, stretching me with his girth, making me feel fuller than I’ve ever felt before. The pressure inside me builds, then a twinge of pain, but it’s not bad enough for me to even wince. Thankfully. I’m not sure Elijah would be on board with taking my virginity, especially not after drinking most of the night away.
“Fuck, Sunflower, you’re so tight. I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.” His words are labored as if he is trying hard not to pound into me like a madman.
“You won’t.” My chest rises and falls at the same rate as his does. “I trust you. You won’t hurt me. Just go... go slow,” I say, mainly for me, since he has no idea what he’s doing, but a little for him because it’s obvious he’s worried.
“Okay.” He exhales harshly and continues pushing inside of me, until I feel his balls pressing against my ass. Holy fuck, he’s all the way inside of me. My pussy throbs, light zings of pain rippling through it with each breath I take. I try not to wince or show even an ounce of pain because the last thing I want is for this between us to end.
“Dear lord… fuck, fuck…” Elijah curses, his eyes closing for a fraction of a second. It looks as if he’s trying to get his body and mind on the same page. His muscles strain, shaking and vibrating as he holds himself up above me. Sweat beads against his forehead, and I am wondering how much he’s holding back? I don’t want him to hold back. I want him to give me everything he has.
He only gives me a moment to adjust before he starts moving again, his hips swiveling as he pulls out only to thrust himself back in, the head of his cock pressing against the very edge of my womb. Squeezing my eyes shut, I grab onto his shoulders, digging my fingers into his flesh in an attempt to try and ignore the uncomfortable throbs of pain in my womb at his hard thrusts. Jesus. I’ve never felt so full, so consumed by something. He fits inside me perfectly, as if he is the missing puzzle piece to my life.
Thankfully, the fullness and the pain dissipate with each surge forward, the gyrating of his hips rubbing against my clit.
“I want you to come.” He groans with a hard thrust. Pulling back, he moves so he’s on his knees between my legs, his hands moving to my hips, holding me in place, while he thrusts up, moving inside me deeper. “I want to feel you come around my cock. I want to feel you squeeze me with your pussy.” Filthy. That’s what he is. He’s filthy. His words, his movements. They’re downright dirty.
Panting, I say his name, “Elijah.”
“Yes, Sunflower. Come. Come for me…” The growl he emits vibrates through me, and I didn’t think that it was possible to come again. I already came twice, and this is my first time. I was under the impression that women didn’t come their first time, but I guess Elijah is just that good.
Of course he’s that good. I feel like a wind-up toy and he keeps cranking the handle, bringing me closer and closer toward oblivion.
He picks up pace, how he could go harder than he already was, I don’t know, but he starts slamming into me with a fierceness that sends the headboard slamming into the wall. Over and over again, he pushes into me, owning me, branding me. Something inside me unravels, the string coming undone, and then just like that, I’m engulfed in flames.
Arching my back, my entire body tenses, every muscle tightening, my fingers gripping at the sheets as my orgasm tears through me like a hurricane barreling against the coastline. My toes curl into the mattress and as promised, he fucks me long and deep. Even through my orgasm, he doesn’t stop. He keeps fucking me, his eyes hooded and bleeding into mine with each stroke.
“Shit, Bailey…” My name falls from his lips like a prayer and all I can do is stare up at him and watch as he drives into me with all the power in the world. The organ in my chest beats so loudly inside my chest, I wonder if he can hear it, feel it, but of course I know he can’t.
For some reason, the stupid organ starts to ache, as if it’s physically being stabbed. He’s your best friend. This is one time. One time only.
With a painful thrust, he digs his fingers into my hips with bruising force, finding his own release a second later. A guttural growl rips from his throat, he sounds like a bear, hell he looks like one too. The noise vibrates through me, while he shoots his hot seed deep inside me.
His whole body tenses and then he collapses half on top of me. He’s huge, and while my breathing is labored from his weight, I wouldn’t want him to move even if he offered to. Having him this close makes me feel protected… loved.
No. I nearly shake my head, shoving the stupid word from my
mind. Instead, I relish in the feel of Elijah’s body against mine, the erratic beat of his heart, and heaving of his chest, that tell me just how much he loved what he did.
Yawning, I close my eyes. This turned out to be the best birthday ever, and not just because it was the best birthday party ever, but because the one man I had held out for, gave into me. Just as I had always wanted him to.
I’m half asleep when he rolls off of me, pulling out as he moves away from me. I instantly feel cold and empty. The feeling is something I’ve never felt when it comes to Elijah. He always makes me feel secure, cared for, happy. I lift my hands reaching for him, wanting to pull him back on top of me, but I’m too slow and only grab onto air. I frown, but only for a moment, because in an instant, he’s back at my side.
“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
I blink, nibbling on my lip. Concern is etched into his beautiful features and I love how he can fuck me one second and still be the man that I’ve known all my life in the next. Is he like this with all the other women?
“No,” I croak. “It was great.” And it was. It was the best first time, way better than all the first times I’ve heard about. With a ghost of a smile on his smug lips, he reaches over and grabs me, pulling me into him. I cuddle into his side, pressing my cheek to his chest, listening to his heart as it beats loudly. I close my eyes, and toss my leg over his thigh, tangling our bodies. Slowly, I drift off into the abyss, Elijah’s fingers trailing over my skin.
My mind is only half awake when I hear him whisper, “If I could have you, I would... but you mean so much to me, too much. I can’t be selfish with you.”
I fall asleep wanting to tell him he already has me, all while knowing I never can. We crossed the line this one time, but it can never happen again, it will never happen again. No matter how good Elijah is, no matter how much I want him.
He can never be mine.
4
Elijah
Waking up the next morning, I blink my eyes open. There’s a throbbing behind my eyes, and I wince at the sunlight pouring in through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
What the fuck did I do last night?
I sit up in bed, scrubbing a hand down my face. My mouth is dry, my muscles ache as if I ran a damn triathlon. I exhale and look down at the sheets.
Bailey. Sunflower. Fuck.
My gaze swings to the spot beside me as if I’ll find her there. But just as I suspect them to be, the sheets are cold, bare. I swallow thickly. Maybe she went to make breakfast or something? Fuck, this was a bad idea. The worst. I never should’ve given in to her. I never should’ve crossed that fucking line.
But you wanted to, you prick. I can’t deny it. I can’t deny the longing I’ve had for her. Since we were teenagers, I’ve wanted her. I made the mistake of kissing her one time before, we were still in high school then. We didn’t talk for weeks after… weeks that were like hell to me, and I swore never to kiss her again. Well, I did a whole lot more than kiss her last night.
I’m such a fucking idiot. I have to make this right. But how the hell do I do that? I can’t tell her that I didn’t mean to fuck her last night... because I definitely meant to fuck her. In fact, I meant to do so again this morning. That’s all I could think about when I fell asleep with her sprawled out on my chest.
Knowing damn well she’s no longer here, I untangle myself from the sheets, and for more than the simple reason of her absence inside the bedroom, I shove from the bed, my knees wobbly as I do. Fucking Christ. I’ve ruined everything and even knowing that, I don’t regret what I did last night. I don’t regret being selfish and giving in to what we both wanted, needed.
I just fucking hope she doesn’t hate me, doesn’t regret last night, because God knows I don’t, and I never will. Bailey was everything I expected her to be and more. Perfection wrapped up in a tight bow. I unwrapped her and devoured her from the inside out and if she was here right now, I would do it again.
I would eat her like she was my breakfast.
Smiling smugly, I walk into the bathroom. There’s what looks to be blood on my abdomen, as well as my cock. I stare down at myself, my brows pinching together.
My heart rate spikes. Did I… I remember her telling me I didn’t hurt her, so why is there blood on my cock? Christ, did she lie to me? I don’t remember her giving me any indication that she was in pain, but then again, things are still a little fuzzy in my mind right now.
Fuck me, if I hurt her, I’ll never forgive myself. I turn the shower on and wait for the room to fill with steam before stepping into the spray. The water is scalding, but relaxes me, making the memories from last night easier to remember. I think about last night as I wash my hair and body, scrubbing away the dried blood from my skin.
Unable to think about anything else, I try to remember everything from the night before. Had I torn her? I wasn’t rough with her, was I? She was tighter than I had expected her to be... almost as if…
Fuck. I shut off the water and get out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my middle before padding back out into the bedroom.
There’s no way she was still a virgin… no way, right? A woman as beautiful as her would have men beating down her door. It can’t be that I popped her cherry. It can’t be.
I toss the sheet onto the floor and spot the smear of blood against the cream-colored sheets immediately. Dizziness slams into me, and I squeeze my eyes shut and thrust my fingers into my hair. What have I done?
I shake my head. No, she would have told me. Why wouldn’t she tell me? I start to pace. I try to look for another explanation, racking my brain for more clues from last night, but everything I remember points to the same answer.
Virgin. She was a virgin. The liquid courage comment, her never having been eaten out before, how nervous she looked, and how fucking tight she was… fuck! I screwed up. I ruined us, ruined everything. How could I have been so dumb? How did I not put it together last night?
Sagging down onto the mattress, I hold my head in my hands. Not only did we cross the line, obliterating years of friendship, but she gave me her virginity. Her fucking virginity. The one thing girls hold sacred. The one thing that should’ve been given to someone deserving of it. Someone that wasn’t me. My chest rises and falls rapidly. Is there any coming back from this? Can we still be just friends? How do we go back to being us? I don’t do relationships and even though we both agreed nothing would come from this, that was before I found out she was a virgin. Why would she do this to me?
I’d never been with a virgin before… damn it. The memories twist and turn inside my head as I shuffle through them. I cringe, wanting to stab myself in the eye after last night.
If I had known. If she had said something, I would’ve gone slower, would’ve been gentler. I tip my head back and chuckle into the empty space. Who am I kidding? I was slow and gentle enough last night. I didn’t fuck her like I fucked all the other women, mainly because she isn’t another woman to me, she’s my best friend, and if I’m being honest, the one and only woman I could see myself loving. Also, I went slower because I didn’t want to hurt her or scare her away. I couldn’t have predicted this, though.
I clench my fists, pressing them to my forehead. I want to be mad at her. Call her and yell at her for not telling me, but what would it matter? It wouldn’t change what’s already happened. It wouldn’t erase the events of last night. I’m already pissed that she walked out of here without waking me up. She left, doing the walk of shame. She probably walked out of here thinking I would tell her to leave in the morning. She should know me better than that, as if I would ask her to leave. Bullshit. I’m an asshole, but I would never be like this with her.
I would never send her packing. I don’t care if we agreed to one night, at the end of the day, she’s always going to be more to me than just a fuck.
Exhaling a breath, I get up from the bed and make quick work of the sheets, pulling them off the mattress before tossing them to the floor. I can’t imagine what the m
aid is going to think when she comes in here to clean.
The chiming of my cell phone meets my ears and I get up, fishing the thing from my dress slacks. As soon as I pull the sleek device out, I see my brother’s name flashing across the screen. Furrowing my brows, I stare at the thing. I wonder what the hell he could want?
Tapping the green answer key, I growl, “What?”
“Well, good morning to you too, fucker.”
Rolling my eyes, I walk toward my closet and find a pair of boxers, pulling them on with ease as I trap the cell between my shoulder and my ear. I grab a pair of jeans and t-shirt too before walking back into the bedroom.
Huffing, I ask, “What do you want, Asher?”
“Nothing, really. I just wanted to talk. Dad asked me to call and remind you about dinner at the house tomorrow.”
My eyes widen. “Oh shit,” I say, more to myself than Asher. “Thanks.”
“Of course, what are big brothers for?”
I can practically see the smile on his face.
“I don’t know, what are they for?” I reply snarkily.
“What happened between you and Bailey last night?”
The question catches me off guard, and there’s a long moment of silence that stretches between us. Does he know? Would she have called him and told him? I don’t think so. Bailey was always more my friend than she was his. While Asher saw her as an annoying little sister that refused to go away. I saw her as… well, the most important thing in my life. Even when I was nine years old, I thought she was the most beautiful girl in class, and that sunflower sundress she wore all the time...
“Elijah…” Asher’s voice filters into my ears, pulling me back to the present.
“Oh, uhhh, nothing… nothing happened last night,” I lie, attempting to hide the tremble in my voice. I don’t want to tell him about Bailey and me. It’s bad enough that he knows how much I want her. There’s no hiding things from the people that know you best. Asher’s known of my desires since before I ever kissed Bailey back in high school.
