A few days later and here we are, wrapped up in each other, practically naked in his bed, about to have sex, and he means more to me than a mere scratch to my itch. This is crazy. Things like this don’t happen that fast, especially for me. I like this guy. I’m attracted to him, but what we’re doing also feels so…serious.
Why? I don’t get it. I don’t get this—us.
Wade traces my lips with his index finger, so gentle it’s almost as if he doesn’t touch me at all. He’s waiting for my answer, probably slowly dying inside, and I don’t know what to say.
I can’t seem to find the right words.
“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop,” he finally says, his hand dropping away from my mouth. “I’ll take you back home. We can forget this ever happened.”
That’s the last thing I want to do. I can’t just forget this night. It’s been a whirlwind of emotions, every one of them intense. From happiness to worry to anger to humor to frustration to pure, agonizing want.
That’s how I’m feeling right now. I want him. Why should I deny myself? Or Wade? We both want each other. It’s foolish to put off the inevitable.
“I don’t want you to stop,” I whisper, reaching up so I can touch his face, trace his jawline with my fingertips. He’s ridiculously good-looking. Like painfully so, with the soulful brown eyes and the lush mouth and that killer jawline that makes me weak every time I look at his face. I rear up and press my mouth to his jaw, circling my arms around his neck, clinging to him.
He wraps one arm around me, his big hand sprawled across my back. When our mouths finally meet, the kiss is hungry. Urgent. I can feel his erection brush against my belly and I want him. I want him inside me.
But he takes his time, driving me wild with his mouth and hands. He hovers above me, kissing my neck, my chest, slowly taking off my bra so he can touch and kiss my breasts. He sucks first one nipple into his mouth, then the other, turning me into a writhing, desperate mess, and still he won’t slip inside me.
Wade shifts lower, kissing my stomach, along the waistband of my panties, his breath fanning across me and making it hard to breathe. He places his hands on the inside of my legs and spreads them wider, his mouth right there, kissing my thighs just before he presses his face against the front of my panties and breathes in deep.
Oh God, I could probably come just from his breaths on my clit. This is insane. Completely, totally, wonderfully insane.
I reach for him with desperate hands, my fingers sliding into his hair, tugging on it. He misreads my silent cues, rising up so his face is in mine once more, and he kisses me. That’s okay. I might’ve wanted him to go down on me, but then again maybe I don’t, because this is the first time we’re together and that just feels so intimate. Almost too intimate.
So I return his kiss, my hands sliding all over him, pushing at his sweats, wanting them off. I shove and push at them until he takes over, kicking them off and leaving him gloriously naked for me to touch and explore. I don’t hold back, stroking his perfect bare butt, his sides, his erection, making him shudder. I circle my fingers around the thick length and start to stroke, but he doesn’t let me do that for very long.
“Be right back,” he tells me, punctuating the statement with a quick kiss.
Then he slips out of my grip, slips out of bed and disappears.
I lay there, blinking up at the ceiling. What was that about? Where is he going? Without thought I shed my panties, tossing them on the floor, wanting to be as naked as Wade is. He needs to hurry. I’m all anxious and twitchy, dying for his hands on me, his mouth on me, needing him inside me…
“Condoms,” he says as he practically runs back into the bedroom. He tosses an entire box on the floor, one wrapped condom still clutched in his hand, and I laugh in relief.
“I thought you bailed on me,” I tell him as he crawls into bed with me.
“Hell no. I’m not stupid.” But he is warm and big and that skilled mouth of his lands on mine, drugging me, sending me straight out of my mind with every press of his lips, every swipe of his tongue. I lose myself in his kiss, the touch of his hands, the sensation of his big, muscular body wrapped all around mine. He’s big and hot, his hands busily roaming all over my body, as if he’s trying to memorize my skin with his fingertips.
I moan in desperation when he only pulls away to slip the condom on and then he’s back, kissing me again, rolling me over so I’m flat on my back and he’s above me, his cock probing at my entrance, eager to get in.
I’m eager to welcome him in.
Wade stops, poised above me, and I can feel his gaze on me. I open my eyes to find him watching me, sweat dotting his forehead, his hair hanging in his face, his dark eyes filled with unmistakable want. My heart is racing and I’m trying to control my breathing when he finally speaks.
“You sure about this?”
I love that he’s still asking, even though we’ve already taken it this far. “I’m sure,” I whisper.
“Once this happens, there’s no going back.” He touches my hair, threads his fingers through it and I close my eyes. His fingers stroking my hair feels so good. Everything about this moment is good. Perfect. Right. “We won’t be able to change it. And I don’t want you to call this a mistake after it’s over.”’
Like I would. My eyes pop open to find him still watching me carefully. “I don’t want you to say that either,” I admit. A trembling breath leaves me when he presses his mouth to my forehead, and I close my eyes again. The onslaught of emotions I’m experiencing in this moment is overwhelming, but in the best possible way.
Why? I don’t get it. I don’t get this—us.
Wade traces my lips with his index finger, so gentle it’s almost as if he doesn’t touch me at all. He’s waiting for my answer, probably slowly dying inside, and I don’t know what to say.
I can’t seem to find the right words.
“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop,” he finally says, his hand dropping away from my mouth. “I’ll take you back home. We can forget this ever happened.”
That’s the last thing I want to do. I can’t just forget this night. It’s been a whirlwind of emotions, every one of them intense. From happiness to worry to anger to humor to frustration to pure, agonizing want.
That’s how I’m feeling right now. I want him. Why should I deny myself? Or Wade? We both want each other. It’s foolish to put off the inevitable.
“I don’t want you to stop,” I whisper, reaching up so I can touch his face, trace his jawline with my fingertips. He’s ridiculously good-looking. Like painfully so, with the soulful brown eyes and the lush mouth and that killer jawline that makes me weak every time I look at his face. I rear up and press my mouth to his jaw, circling my arms around his neck, clinging to him.
He wraps one arm around me, his big hand sprawled across my back. When our mouths finally meet, the kiss is hungry. Urgent. I can feel his erection brush against my belly and I want him. I want him inside me.
But he takes his time, driving me wild with his mouth and hands. He hovers above me, kissing my neck, my chest, slowly taking off my bra so he can touch and kiss my breasts. He sucks first one nipple into his mouth, then the other, turning me into a writhing, desperate mess, and still he won’t slip inside me.
Wade shifts lower, kissing my stomach, along the waistband of my panties, his breath fanning across me and making it hard to breathe. He places his hands on the inside of my legs and spreads them wider, his mouth right there, kissing my thighs just before he presses his face against the front of my panties and breathes in deep.
Oh God, I could probably come just from his breaths on my clit. This is insane. Completely, totally, wonderfully insane.
I reach for him with desperate hands, my fingers sliding into his hair, tugging on it. He misreads my silent cues, rising up so his face is in mine once more, and he kisses me. That’s okay. I might’ve wanted him to go down on me, but then again maybe I don’t, because this is the first time we’re together and that just feels so intimate. Almost too intimate.
So I return his kiss, my hands sliding all over him, pushing at his sweats, wanting them off. I shove and push at them until he takes over, kicking them off and leaving him gloriously naked for me to touch and explore. I don’t hold back, stroking his perfect bare butt, his sides, his erection, making him shudder. I circle my fingers around the thick length and start to stroke, but he doesn’t let me do that for very long.
“Be right back,” he tells me, punctuating the statement with a quick kiss.
Then he slips out of my grip, slips out of bed and disappears.
I lay there, blinking up at the ceiling. What was that about? Where is he going? Without thought I shed my panties, tossing them on the floor, wanting to be as naked as Wade is. He needs to hurry. I’m all anxious and twitchy, dying for his hands on me, his mouth on me, needing him inside me…
“Condoms,” he says as he practically runs back into the bedroom. He tosses an entire box on the floor, one wrapped condom still clutched in his hand, and I laugh in relief.
“I thought you bailed on me,” I tell him as he crawls into bed with me.
“Hell no. I’m not stupid.” But he is warm and big and that skilled mouth of his lands on mine, drugging me, sending me straight out of my mind with every press of his lips, every swipe of his tongue. I lose myself in his kiss, the touch of his hands, the sensation of his big, muscular body wrapped all around mine. He’s big and hot, his hands busily roaming all over my body, as if he’s trying to memorize my skin with his fingertips.
I moan in desperation when he only pulls away to slip the condom on and then he’s back, kissing me again, rolling me over so I’m flat on my back and he’s above me, his cock probing at my entrance, eager to get in.
I’m eager to welcome him in.
Wade stops, poised above me, and I can feel his gaze on me. I open my eyes to find him watching me, sweat dotting his forehead, his hair hanging in his face, his dark eyes filled with unmistakable want. My heart is racing and I’m trying to control my breathing when he finally speaks.
“You sure about this?”
I love that he’s still asking, even though we’ve already taken it this far. “I’m sure,” I whisper.
“Once this happens, there’s no going back.” He touches my hair, threads his fingers through it and I close my eyes. His fingers stroking my hair feels so good. Everything about this moment is good. Perfect. Right. “We won’t be able to change it. And I don’t want you to call this a mistake after it’s over.”’
Like I would. My eyes pop open to find him still watching me carefully. “I don’t want you to say that either,” I admit. A trembling breath leaves me when he presses his mouth to my forehead, and I close my eyes again. The onslaught of emotions I’m experiencing in this moment is overwhelming, but in the best possible way.
