by Marni Mann
That was why I hadn’t felt any anxiety when he walked me to his bedroom or positioned me near his bed where we were standing now. It was also why I could relax into his chest as he reached for the bottom of my shirt, pulling it over my head. His lips were on my neck before the chill hit my skin, and he was unclasping my bra, my breasts falling from the cups.
As I heard the lace hit the floor, he began kissing down my shoulders. “So fucking beautiful, sweet girl.” His thumbs rubbed back and forth across my hardened nipples.
“Ahhh,” I moaned, my back pushing into him where he was taking all of my weight.
His hands didn’t stay in one place for long, rubbing across my stomach and over my breasts, down to my waist and back up. I felt every inch of movement—and not all were the softest of touches, like when he tugged my nipples, pinching just the ends.
I quivered from the sensation and then again when he said, “I thought you would like that,” in my ear. With his face in my neck, he could feel each ripple through my body, and there were several. And just when I quieted, I heard, “Wait until you feel this.”
It was a warning.
His hands dropped from my body, and he moved around to the front of me. His lips were now on my breast, and the loudest sound I’d ever made came out. He wasn’t just licking; he was using his teeth on my nipple, his fingers roaming my whole body, and the combination was almost too much. My back arched, and I panted through my lips. Before I could cry out again, he was unbuttoning my jeans, peeling them off along with my panties. And suddenly, I was completely naked before him.
His hand went to my waist, keeping just the tips of his fingers on me, and then he took a step back. His eyes slowly dipped down my body, every shift of his gaze sending me more of his heat. More of his desire. Gradually, he lifted his stare to meet mine and said, “How did I get so lucky to be the first man to have you?”
He was barely touching me, but his eyes felt like they were inside me, stroking every part that would make me moan. And I was positive there had never been a moment in my life when I felt more beautiful.
“Oliver …” I said softly, trying to find a way to respond to him, to describe how lost I was, but his hands cupped my face, and his mouth lowered to mine.
As we kissed, he started taking off his clothes, and the reality of what was happening set in.
I wanted this, and I wanted Oliver—more than anything.
Once everything was stripped from his body, he pulled me against him, all of my bare skin now touching his for the first time. He felt so coarse with hair and muscles and broadness.
With a hard-on that was grinding into me.
My God.
This was what a man felt like, and I was about to experience all of him.
His hands surrounded mine, and he placed them on his chest, holding them there, fingers flat like they’d been on the glass in the London Eye. “Learn me,” he breathed, and he slowly lowered my palms.
He was guiding me. Teaching me. And I was absorbing every second, wanting to make him feel just as incredible. So, I explored, tracing his shoulders and back and arms, trying to really get a sense of what he felt like. The more of him that I touched, a whole new kind of heat began to throb inside me. Maybe it was the sounds he made or the way he felt under my fingertips.
But I couldn’t get enough.
And then, “Fuck, Chloe,” vibrated through me.
My fingers had landed on the lower part of his stomach, stalled at the section where the hair was the roughest.
His hand moved on top of mine. It wasn’t to push me. It was as though he wanted to feel the moment from both sides of my palm.
“Go slow,” he growled across my face. My thumb grazed the tip of him, and he exhaled, “Fuck yes.”
While his mouth was pressed against mine, I began to learn the curves and thickness of his shaft, the texture of his skin, the way he moaned when I slid to the top and lowered to the base. Each time I stroked him, his hips pumped forward, his breathing got heavier.
“Are you ready for me?” His hands had been still since I touched him, but he was on my clit. Then, he dropped lower, and my ass bucked from the feeling. “So fucking wet.”
The urge for him to touch me there had been almost unbearable.
Now, he was giving me exactly what I wanted, and I couldn’t stop shaking. “Oh God.”
He rubbed my clit back and forth, the pleasure so intense that I couldn’t kiss him. I could only breathe against his lips and feel this build immediately take hold.
“Oliver … ahhh.”
My fingers circled around him, lifting and dropping, and we were moving together, but it didn’t last because he lifted me into the air and wrapped my legs around him. I clung to his shoulders, staring at his incredibly sexy face, smiling as he carried me onto the bed. He placed me in the center, my head on a pillow, and his lips were around my nipple. He bounced between breasts—sometimes just flicking, other times using his teeth. And all I did was moan as he went down my stomach and stopped at the top of my clit. He pushed my thighs apart and positioned his body between them, his face inches away from me. Anticipating what this was going to feel like, I pushed my head into the pillow, and I stabbed the comforter with my nails.
And then I felt him.
A breath of air across the most sensitive part of me, just enough to know his placement before the next thing I felt caused a gasp to shoot from my mouth.
I couldn’t hold it in.
Because his tongue was there, on that personal place, and he was licking it.
Tasting it.
Swallowing me.
And the wetness and heat from his mouth were beyond anything I had expected. I was doing everything I could to keep my legs apart, but as his tongue flattened and spread across me, swiping in every direction, his finger drove inside me, and I completely lost it again.
“Fuuuck,” I sighed.
The combination took control. There was so much pleasure running through me; I couldn’t follow it all. Oliver was still working my nipple, his other hand between my legs, where he was dipping and circling, his tongue was relentlessly licking.
He didn’t tell me he wanted me to come, but everything he was doing to my body was screaming that demand. And I was trying to hold it off, to keep the build at the peak because it felt so good.
But I couldn’t stop it.
My back arched off the bed, my hands clutching the blanket like it was squeezing me back. “Oliver,” I moaned, his strength only increasing. “Yesss!”
He went even faster, and my eyes shot open. I glanced between my legs, our stares connecting, and a ripple shot through me. Instead of caressing my nipple like he had been, he tugged it, and a tremor erupted in my stomach, my moan so loud that I surprised myself.
This feeling had taken complete control, my head dropped back, and my lids shut as shudders began to move through me. Each time he swiped his tongue, another wave of the orgasm exploded, especially with his finger grinding into me at the same time.
When I finally calmed, he slowly worked his way up my body, pressing his mouth against mine. But this time, he kissed me with a passion that was entirely different than before. This wasn’t just hunger. I felt something else behind his kiss, something much more emotional. And while he was devouring me, I heard the sound of metal foil tearing open. His hands put on the condom, and then he positioned himself between my legs again.
So many firsts, and I was tingling from each one.
His lips hovered above mine when he said, “This is going to hurt, but I’m going to do everything I can to make it better.” He was brushing his thumb across my cheek as he spoke, his tip directly where it needed to be; he just wasn’t applying any pressure.
“Okay.”
I didn’t know what else to say; my nerves were already perking up at the thought of what was coming. The wine had been holding them steady, and it still helped, but the anxiety was there. And I was hyperaware of even the smallest shift, so when
he started to push in, I sucked in all my breath.
His hand tightened on my cheek when he said, “If you tense up like that, you’re never going to let me in.” He kissed the end of my nose. “I’ll go slow. If it’s too much, I’ll stop.”
He halted while he waited for me to respond.
I released the air I was holding in and tried to relax each of my muscles. And as I did, he kissed me, and it was the distraction I needed because what was happening between my legs was completely overwhelming.
Stretching was what it felt like at first, and then the burning set in.
“Oh, that hurts,” I breathed, trying to find that happy place because I wasn’t there right now.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Chloe.” His eyes were on me, watching me while I widened to take him in, and his nose pressed into mine as his fingers squeezed my cheek.
Another small slide, the friction even stronger, and I was doing everything I could not to tighten up again, breathing through what felt like tearing. “Damn it.”
“I’ll stop.”
“No.” My nails stabbed his shoulder even though I wasn’t trying to cause him pain. “I’ll get through this.”
With each lift of his hips came more of that fierce ripping, a heat unlike he’d given to me before, and it only got more intense as he inched in. But he still continued, and so did his strong fingers, linking between mine. He lifted our hands over my head and held them there as he went in the rest of the way and paused.
“You’re fucking incredible,” he breathed against my mouth. “Beautiful.” He kissed my cheek, going to the same spot on the other side. “Perfect.” He returned to my lips. “And so goddamn wet.”
I was focused on his words and continued to breathe through the pain, feeling the rawness and the ache. Even though my body was no longer stretching and widening, I was still pulsing from the invasion. And while I got used to him, he stayed frozen.
His mouth went to my nipple, the graze of his teeth crossing the tip before he shifted to the other one. He went back and forth, and during one of the passes, his mouth found mine, and he started to move.
I held my breath, expecting it to hurt worse. And at first, it did, the burn increasing from all the friction, and I was on the verge of telling him to stop. But then the intensity of it, the fullness that caused the pain to come out in my voice, gradually left. And in there, somewhere deeper than where I was now, I knew pleasure existed. Molly had promised—not right away, but she had said it would happen, and that was what I searched for as he went out to his tip and buried himself again.
“You okay?” He had pulled away from my mouth to look at my eyes, stilling while he read them.
I waited a few seconds to answer, “Yes.” And because he didn’t look entirely convinced, I added, “I’ll be okay, Oliver.”
His exhale was so incredibly hot. “My sweet girl.”
When he started up again, it was a pace that wasn’t much stronger than the one he’d used before. But his lips were quite the opposite, attacking my mouth in a way that told me he couldn’t get enough of me.
And not only did I still feel so beautiful, but I also felt wanted.
Desired.
Fulfilled.
An entirely new sensation entered my body when his hand brushed over my clit. While he rubbed it back and forth, I hissed, “Holy fuck.” Now, I could understand where the pleasure came from, and I moaned for the first time since he’d entered me.
His fingers went faster, easily reading me. “You just got so fucking tight again.”
After so many firsts, having an orgasm during sex wasn’t one I’d predicted. But Oliver had said he was going to make this feel better, and he certainly did. There was still pain, a rawness that felt like it would be there for days, but then there was the rubbing of his fingers, and those tingles went straight to my stomach.
“Oliver …” I exhaled, feeling his veins pop through the skin on his arms as he held his weight. “Ahhh.”
The build was back, and I couldn’t believe how fast it had returned. Like the time before, all I could do was hold on. Because, with him, I had no control over my body, and I was totally fine with that.
“So fucking tight,” he moaned against my lips. I could tell he was holding back, not wanting to hurt me, but his speed was still increasing. “Chloe … fuck.” His teeth took ahold of my bottom lip, his sounds telling me he was just as close as me. “Let me feel you come.”
His demand in that accent was all I needed to hear before I released what I’d been holding in. As I shot through the peak, there was nonstop pulsing, and shudders followed like I was being licked by his tongue. I felt a second round of spasms when he lost himself inside me, moaning my name.
“You feel …” he roared while he leaned his hips back and bucked forward. “So. Fucking. Good.”
And so did he. Wave after wave of pleasure spread through me, his lips staying on me, even after he stilled.
His hands pressed against my cheeks. “I got to watch you come twice.” He glanced at my lips and slowly to my eyes. “Hottest sight of my life.”
A smile warmed across my face.
Despite it being extremely painful, I’d survived. I’d even enjoyed it. And next time, I knew it would be easier.
He eventually leaned back, carefully pulling out, and my eyes drifted down his body until I saw the red on the condom. It took me a minute to realize it was blood.
And that it was mine.
“Oliver—”
His hand was on my cheek before I even finished saying his name. “I expected this to happen. Don’t worry, and don’t be embarrassed.” His thumb brushed my skin several times, easing the embarrassment I was feeling. “I’m going to go clean up. I’ll be right back.”
By the time I got comfortable, tucking myself in the comforter, Oliver returned. And once his arms were wrapped around me, I found his lips and kissed them.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
I wasn’t sure he had even heard me until he said, “For what, sweet girl?”
“For being the most amazing man in the world.”
Twelve
The sound of an alarm was what woke me. My eyes stayed closed as I reached for the blanket, feeling a chill move across my bare chest. I pulled the comforter up to my chin, loving how softer than usual it was, how the pillow was extra firm—the way I liked it but hadn’t had in a while.
I searched for my phone, where I kept it on the desk behind my head, and my fingers slammed into the headboard.
That was the moment it hit me—I wasn’t in my dorm where my blanket was scratchy, and my pillows were super fluffy. I was at Oliver’s, in his bed, where I’d stayed the night.
After I’d lost my virginity.
An excitement burst through me as the mattress shifted, the alarm turned off, the room becoming silent. Oliver’s arms circled around me, pulling until my back was resting into his chest—a position I was learning he liked more than most.
“Mmm,” he growled, his face in my neck where I felt him breathe me in. “How did you sleep?”
The feel of his body overtook me as did the memories from last night.
And as I lay in his bed, feeling the weight of his arms, I didn’t even feel like the same girl who had come over to his place yesterday. Not with the ache that was between my legs and the scent that was on my skin.
I found his hand in the center of my stomach and clasped our fingers together, pushing through the morning in my voice. “Amazingly well.” Having never spent the night at a guy’s place, I was surprised I’d slept so soundly. Of course, by the time he’d eventually let me pass out, I had been so exhausted that I couldn’t keep my eyes open. “How about you?”
“Perfect. Didn’t wake until this morning.” He kissed the top of my shoulder. “What time do you have class?”
“Ten.”
“You’ll stay for breakfast?”
There was a feeling in my chest that ached so strongly, and then a smile sl
owly grew across my cheeks as I said, “I would love to.”
“I cook them pretty traditional …” His beard brushed against the center of my back as he kissed it. “Fried eggs, bacon, sausages, tomatoes, mushrooms, and buttered toast.”
“Yummy.”
He chuckled and turned me around, laying me on his chest while his arms circled my back. “I like cooking for you.”
“Feel free to anytime.” I laughed back. “I’ll eat anything you make; you’re an excellent chef.”
While he kissed the top of my head, I traced my fingers across his pecs, soaking in all of his warmth and attention. And we stayed just like that, tangled in a web of legs, blanket, and heat until I heard, “How about we take a shower before I go into the kitchen?”
I glanced up; his light-blue eyes were so bright in the morning sun.
“You can wash yourself out of my beard …” His teeth gnawed his bottom lip while he stared at my mouth. “But I’m going to lick you again first.”
Thirteen
“I want your details to have sub-details, and don’t you dare leave a single one out,” Molly said as she answered my call in a deeply hoarse morning voice.
I owed her a lifetime of mimosas for the way she was handling the time difference and the fact that she wasn’t getting any sleep because of me.
But now that I had a minute alone, I had to call regardless if my best friend was awake.
“I don’t know where to start,” I sighed, dropping yesterday’s clothes in my laundry bag. I wrapped myself in a robe and climbed into my bed.
“Find a place, sister, because it’s the ass-crack of dawn, and patience doesn’t exist at this hour.”
I pulled the scratchy blanket up to my neck and stared at the bumpy ceiling, wishing so badly I could crawl into her bed, tuck myself under her lime-colored comforter, and purge the whole night to her.
“You know this already, but …” I started, my eyes closing while I processed what I was about to say. “It happened.”