Until My Last Breath

by Tiffany Patterson

  “Robert, let him up. Come on, man, you know how Jack likes to mess around!” one of our friends, Brandon, said from behind me.

  It wasn’t Brandon’s words that finally got me to release Jack. It was the fact that spending even another moment with him was taking away time that I could be spending gazing into Deborah’s eyes. I had better things to do.

  That reminder spurred me to remove my foot from Jack’s chest, spin on my heels, and push past the group of four or five guys that’d followed us out of the cabin.

  I turned toward the loveseat we’d been sitting on but she was gone. I looked around the room and my eyes landed on Kimmy.

  “Where is she?” I questioned, moving over to Kimmy. Her startled expression didn’t discourage me.

  “Who— Oh, Deborah?”

  I gave her a scowl. Who the hell else would I be talking about?

  “I helped her up to our room after you got into it with Jack.”

  I didn’t wait for her to finish her sentence. “You’re going to have to sleep somewhere else tonight.”

  “What? That’s my room!”

  “Not tonight,” I tossed over my shoulder as I headed in the direction of the stairs, taking them two at a time. For the past week, Deborah had been sharing a room with Kimmy. I’d kept my composure, made sure not to pressure her to share my room with me or vice versa, because I knew she wasn’t ready for it, but all of that was over and done with. Kimmy would need to find another place to sleep that night because I had business to take care of.

  “What do you want?” Deborah demanded as soon as I barged in the room, slamming and locking the door behind me. Her eyes narrowed to slits.

  “What the hell are you pissed at me for?” I questioned just as angrily.

  “For embarrassing the hell out of me like that!”

  “I embarrassed you?” I pressed, moving closer and snatching the folded clothes she had in her hand, tossing them to the chair where her opened suitcase sat.

  “Yes! You and Jackass!”

  I almost grinned at the nickname she’d given Jack but I didn’t.

  “And just so we’re clear, I’m not a damn stripper. I’m a cocktail waitress,” she stated as if it made any difference to me.

  “You could tell me you tamed lions for a living and I’d believe you,” I responded, inching closer, wrapping my hands around her waist. It was a risky move. She was pissed. The tight set of her mouth and single wrinkle in her forehead told me that. However, she was also irresistible at that moment.

  “I don’t like cats.”

  At that I did respond with a chuckle.

  “No cats, got it,” I murmured, nuzzling the side of her neck with my nose. “What else don’t you like?” I pressed my growing hard-on against her abdomen. A rush of energy shot through me when she responded by pressing her body against mine.

  “Jackass. I don’t like him.” Her voice was airy, just above a whisper.

  “Me either.” I pressed a kiss to her neck and then another. “What else?”

  “Um … sp-sprained ankles. I-I don’t like those,” she stammered as I continued to press kisses to the side of her neck and cupped her cheeks.

  I brushed my lips against hers. A small sigh escaped her lips.

  “Why not?”

  “B-because it hurts to stand for too long.”

  I stepped back, remembering her injury. “That’s not a problem.”

  Scooping her up in my arms, I swiftly carried her to the bottom bed of the bunk beds that were in the room. Wouldn’t have been my first choice but I had to make due with what was available.

  “How’s your ankle?” I asked, staring down into her half-closed eyes, our lips barely touching as I hovered over her.

  “Better.” She surprised me by lifting her head and capturing my lips.

  My surprise didn’t last for too long, however, as I parted my lips, allowing myself to experience the feel of our mouths tasting one another. I reached down, moving my hand underneath the turtleneck shirt she wore, feeling the tender skin of her waist and abdomen.

  “I’m going to take your shirt off now,” I stated, pulling back from her lips. Kissing was no longer enough and I needed to make it clear my intentions for that night.

  “The door—”

  “Is locked. No one’s walking in on us,” I reassured. I paused for a moment, ensuring that she was okay with what was about to happen.

  A slight tilt of her head gave me the go ahead.

  “Fuck!” I cursed when I sat up and smacked my head against the wooden boards of the top bunk.

  Deborah giggled, but then asked, “Are you okay?”

  “I fucking hate bunk beds. Next time we’ll have more room.” The next time we were in this position, would be in my bed where we had more than enough room to explore one another’s bodies. But I didn’t have time to think about that. I needed to concentrate on the woman in front of me at that moment.

  Reaching down, I pulled Deborah’s shirt free from her body, leaving her nude from the waist up, save for the black bra she wore. I licked my lips before leaning down and outlining the tops of her breasts with my tongue. I moaned against the feel of her soft, supple skin.

  Her chest rose as she arched her back slightly, obviously turned on.

  “I’m going to take off your bra now,” I informed her, looking up into her eyes.

  She nodded, and I moved my hands around to the back clasp, undoing the bind that hid her breasts from me. I glanced up at her face. She bit her lower lip, uncertain. I swallowed, wanting to tell her she needn’t be nervous. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. But words failed me. Action would have to do.

  I lowered my head to her breast, encircling her taut nipple with my lips. Her body reacted instantly, jerking upward, her back arching, but I wouldn’t let up. She tasted too sweet. The little moans that escaped her mouth were too enticing for me not to keep trying to pull them from her. I licked a line down the middle of her breasts before moving over to give the second one the same treatment as the first.

  My cock attempted to bust through the zipper of my jeans and yet I couldn’t stop. I squeezed with my hands, pleased to see her breasts fit perfectly into them.

  “Robert,” she let out on a whisper-moan, her head twisting from side to side against the pillows on the bed.

  I heard the need in her voice. She needed more. I did to.

  Forcing myself to pull away, I carefully sat back on my haunches, mindful of the damn top bunk. Next, I removed the sweater I’d been wearing along with the T-shirt I had on underneath before pressing our bodies together again, so I could capture her lips.

  Deborah’s hands went to my hair. Enjoying the feel of her hands on me, I groaned against her lips.

  “Do you want me to make you feel good?” I questioned before dipping my head into the crook of her neck, nuzzling the sensitive skin there.

  “Please,” she begged.

  My cock jumped against my pants, at the need and want I heard in her voice. At that point, it was either remove the rest of our clothing or come in my jeans.

  I lifted, my hands going to the buttons of Deborah’s jeans. I made quick work of undoing the button and zipper, pulling her pants down to reveal her smooth legs. The only thing that stood between me and ecstasy were the cotton panties she wore. My hands went to the waistband of her panties and she lifted her hips, aiding me in pulling them down to meet her jeans. After completely removing her clothing, I sat back again, admiring her taut body.

  “I’m going to taste you.”

  Her eyes widened and forehead wrinkled. She was confused. Had no man ever gone down on her before? It would be my pleasure to be her first.

  Running my hand over the wiry hairs that covered her mound, I noted they were the same brunette color as the hair on her head. I nudged her legs farther apart before throwing them over my shoulders as I bent down to get even with her weeping core.

  “Rob—” Deborah called before breaking off into a loud
moan when my tongue first brushed against her swollen nub.

  A jolt of electricity pushed through my veins at hearing my name ripping from her lips only for it to break off into the sexiest moan I’d ever heard. My hunger increased tenfold and I refused to hold back any longer. I ate like a man starving, licking at the delicate folds of her pussy lips, savoring and memorizing each time her moans grew loud and insistent or soft and relaxed. I got into a rhythm, bringing her up high with the intensity of the way my tongue stroked her clitoris only to pull back before she got too close to the edge. Because while this woman made me wild with passion and need, I was running the show. She wouldn’t come until I was good and ready for her to. I was ensuring she would never forget this night, nor would she ever think I paid this kind of attention to any other woman.

  Try and fight it as I might, the fact that she was so aware of my reputation with other girls on campus bothered me. I didn’t want her thinking of me and any other woman. Because the thought of her with any other guy, before or after me, nearly drove me crazy. Something had happened to me over the past week, and safe to say, that Deborah Tate had me completely under her spell.

  Strange thing is, though, I highly doubt she even realized it.

  Her moans grew insistent and I felt her thighs begin to tremble over my shoulders. She was ready. I inserted a finger into her wetness and captured her distended button with my lips, using my tongue to stroke her to her orgasm.

  Her moans and screams were music to my ears. I hardly wanted to stop but I needed to. My cock was way past feeling uncomfortable still zipped up. Lowering her legs to the bed, I removed a latex condom from my wallet, which had been in my back pocket. I tossed my wallet to the floor and quickly undid my jeans, sliding them down along with my underwear.

  “Wh-what is that?” Deborah questioned from her position on the bed.

  My gaze went to what she was staring at in my hand. “Condom.”

  “Oh.” She bit her lower lip. “For protection, right. So I won’t get pregnant.”

  Shit. My cock actually jumped at the mention of her pregnant with my child. What the fuck was happening?

  “Y-yes,” I responded, ripping the condom wrapper open and placing it over the tip of my dick. I ran the condom down the stem of my cock before moving back to the bed.

  I paused just after lining my cock up with her opening, and stared up into her eyes. “You know this makes you mine, right?” The words fell from my mouth before I even knew they were there.

  “Yours?”

  “Mine. As in no other fucking man can touch you.” The first time in my life I’d made a declaration like that.

  “That means your mine, too, then.”

  My dick jumped again. The idea of being hers was as enticing as she belonging to me. I didn’t mind it at all.

  Instead of responding verbally, I began sliding into her core, slowly at first, straining every muscle in my body, forcing myself to go slow. I won’t rush our first time together. Just as I had that thought, I stilled completely when I met resistance.

  I pinned Deborah with my eyes, our gazes meeting before she averted her eyes.

  “Look at me,” I ordered.

  Her eyes slid back to me.

  “Are … is this your first time?” I could barely get the question out.

  She hesitated, but eventually nodded.

  “Shit!”

  “It’s not—” She broke off, starting to sit up.

  “No,” I stopped her. “I wish I had known. I would’ve made this so much better for you.” I wasn’t a roses and chocolate kind of guy but for her I would’ve been.

  “I-I don’t need that other stuff,” she said. Her hand went to cup my cheek, soothing me. I nuzzled my cheek against her hand. She was serious, but I still wished I would’ve known. I made a mental note for the next time to do this right.

  “I’ll take it slow.”

  I began sliding in, pushing through the resistance I felt. “Don’t tighten up. Relax. Breathe, Princess,” I cooed, working to ease her tension as well as mine. Eventually, she relaxed and I slid deeper inside of her until I was all of the way in.

  I lowered my lips to hers, kissing her with all of the passion coursing through my body in that moment. “You feel so fucking good,” I stated against her lips. “Am I hurting you?”

  She shook her head. “N-no … Robert …” she called me, not knowing what she needed. Her hands went to my shoulders, pulling me into her. I knew what she needed. What we both needed.

  I pulled halfway out of her before pushing back in.

  “Oh!” she yelped, her back arching.

  “Was that a scream of pleasure or pain?” I knew the answer already but needed to hear the words.

  “Pl-pleasure,” she panted.

  “Good.”

  I pulled out, almost completely that time, and slowly pushed back in until our pelvises connected. I moved slowly before quickening my pace. My hands went to Deborah’s small waist as my hips took control, pistoning in and out of her body, causing the entire bunk bed to shake.

  Deborah’s legs raised, circling my waist as I stared down at her. Our eyes never left one another’s. We were communicating with our bodies and our gazes. This woman, the same one I’d watched from afar for four years, was mine now.

  “Robert!” she shouted as she came.

  “Goddamn!” I moaned when her pussy muscles clamped down around my thrusting cock. Not long after her climax I was came furiously, harder than I’d ever come.

  I grunted and convulsed, her pussy muscles milking every drop of semen from my loins. I spilled into the condom knowing one day that there would be no barrier between us and that Deborah Tate would eventually become Deborah Townsend.

  Chapter Eight

  Robert

  “Tell me about your parents.”

  Deborah lifted her head, giving me a quizzical look. We were still in bed, her closest to the wall, me on the outer edge. My arm was draped across her bare midsection, stroking her flat abdomen. Both naked as the day we were born. I was doing my best to refrain from taking her again. She’d be sore and I didn’t want to cause her too much discomfort her first night.

  “My parents?”

  “Yeah, the people who raised you. Mom and dad.”

  She lowered her head back to my shoulder. “You first.”

  I chuckled. I didn’t tell people about my parents. Most either thought they already knew everything there was to know given the status of my family’s name. While others worked to get whatever inside information they’d think I’d give so they could run back to their own social circles or business associates with all of the nitty gritty details. Fuck that and fuck them.

  But this was Deborah. The woman who would one day be my wife. She might as well learn the truth straight from me.

  “My father’s an asshole and my mother’s a weak-willed social climber who thought she lucked out when he asked her to marry him. Aside from that, they’re great.”

  Deborah lifted her head, staring at me, looking deeply into my eyes. I tucked my arm under my head.

  I didn’t shutter my gaze or close myself off from her like I did to the rest of the world. Like I’d learned to do from a very early age.

  “He hit you.”

  I nodded even though it wasn’t a question.

  “Often,” I replied.

  “Does he still?”

  I shook my head. “By the time I reached sixteen, I was two inches taller than he was. He’s also slowed down and weakened from all of the extra weight he’s put on over the years. One night he went to hit me and I caught his arm, twisting it until it nearly broke. That was the last time he tried to hit me or my brother.”

  “Jason, right? That’s your brother’s name.”

  I nodded again.

  “Your mother never tried to stop him? Or leave him?”

  I made a sound of disbelief at the back of my throat. “She might have tried a long time ago when we were young but I can’t ever reme
mber it. She’s not a bad mother, per se, but was broken down by his verbal abuse long ago. She would stick up for us or try to keep us out of trouble from time to time.”

  “Then why do you call her a social climber?”

  “Because as much as she might have disliked my father’s treatment of all of us, she had no problem putting on a smile for all of her friends, throwing the most lavish events at Townsend Manor and all that shit.”

  It was silent for a few moments.

  “Jason got it the worst, though.” I looked up at Deborah. “My father targeted him.”

  “Why?”

  I shrugged. “Who fucking knows. Jason always had trouble in school. He hated reading, got terrible grades, and our father never let up on him about it.”

  My chest tightened over the guilt I felt. Academics, sports, making friends had always come naturally to me. It was almost too easy, so much so, that I turned things like making friends or getting girls into a game just to make it fun. But Jason struggled in every area. He was almost my total opposite.

  “My father died when I was just eleven years old.”

  It wasn’t her words that surprised me but the way she’d said them. The tenderness she used when speaking the words my father. She’d loved him.

  “How?”

  “On the mountain there was very little work except working in the mines.”

  The mountain. It was how she referred to where she grew up.

  “But it was dangerous work. I remember when the layoffs started happening. My mother was terrified Daddy would lose his job. But he got lucky … or so we thought. After the first round of layoffs, he still had a job. We were grateful. Unfortunately, it was short lived. A month later, there was an accident. My father and two other workers got caught in a collapse. It took them two weeks to dig their bodies out. We were comforted by the fact that he probably died immediately in the collapse, and didn’t suffer.”

  Lifting my head, I pressed a kiss to her lips. Not from passion but to comfort her.

  She blinked away the tears that had accumulated in her eyes and laid her head back on my chest. My hand rose to her hair, stroking it. This was the most intimacy I’d ever shared with a woman, and our being nude had nothing to do with it.