by V. T. Do
“What do you want?” he asked me when we pulled away long enough to catch our breath. “And be really sure about this, Emery. Once I have you, there is no going back.”
I pulled him down and kissed him again. “You, Wyatt. I want you.”
Chapter Fifteen: First Time
Emery
Wyatt kissed my neck.
I moved my head to the side to give him better access. “Say it again,” he said.
“I want you.” I wanted him so badly I could barely think.
I pushed him away so I could stand in front of him. He looked down at me with hooded eyes. No one had ever looked at me like that. It only cemented my decision to be with him like this. And if this would help get him out of my system so that I no longer acted like a lovesick fool, I’d take it.
“In this moment, I want you more than I have ever wanted anything in my life,” I answered honestly.
Wyatt reacted then. Pulling me roughly against his body, he kissed me so hard our teeth clashed. And then he pulled away and said, “Let it be known now, I’ll never deny you anything.”
He pulled me away from bathroom sink, so that I was standing once again, and turned me around to face the mirror. My eyes met his in the reflection, before he smirked and lowered his lips to my ear. I watched as he nibbled on it, felt the wet swipe of his tongue, the sharp bite of his teeth, and then I felt something lower down in my sex.
My thighs clenched together as I tried to add pressure where I needed it the most, seeking the release I didn’t know I needed until that very moment.
“Wyatt.” My voice came out in a desperate plea, and I needed him to do... something, anything. I needed him to make this ache go away.
“Shh,” he said, moving his hands to the front of me. My skin flushed when he grabbed one breast in each hand, giving them a gentle squeeze. I didn’t know if I should be embarrassed or turned on that I could clearly see the outline of my nipples through my shirt.
Wyatt was definitely turn on though, the evidence was obvious whenever he moved in closer to me. With a groan, he took an aching peak between each thumb and forefinger and pulled.
I let out a breathless gasp.
“I bet you’re wet for me, aren’t you?”
He unbuttoned the shirt I was wearing midway and pushed it off my shoulders, baring one breast to his gaze. “No bra?”
I mutely shook my head. He ground his hips into me, and I felt the hardened length of his penis between my butt.
“Oh, God.”
He palmed my breast, and my grip tightened around the edge of the countertop. I wanted to close my eyes against the sensations, but I didn’t want to look away either. I wanted more, more, more.
He grabbed my hands and placed them flat on the countertop. “Find your balance,” he said, his voice rough, his eyes hungry.
I nodded.
“Good. And whatever you have to do to keep yourself from moving, do it.”
“Wyatt...”
He sucked on the skin on my neck. My knees nearly buckled from the sensation. How did he expect me not to move?
I watched his hands in the reflection, watched as they moved down to the button of my jeans. An aching throb took hold against my clit as he unzipped the jeans, the sound loud and abrasive in the silent bathroom.
“Is this what you want?” he asked me, his hands resting flat on my stomach.
I met his eyes. “Yes.”
I had never wanted anything more than I wanted him. I needed this more than I needed my next breath.
He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of my jeans and pulled down, taking my panties with them. I could feel my arousal on the inside of my thighs, the wetness clinging to my skin. I couldn’t imagine what he was seeing.
He stopped when the jeans and panties fell to my ankles, then tapped my calf to get me to step out of them. I did, then I kicked my jeans aside. Slowly he stood up, his hands coasting along my legs as they made their way up, from my calf, to my knees, to my thighs. He rested one hand on the place where my thigh met my sex, so close to the one place I wanted him. Then he stood up to his full height.
“Don’t move,” he reminded me once again, his eyes dancing with wicked humor. He waited for my nod before his hand made its way to the junction of my thighs and he was cupping me. I let out a gasp, flinching a little when I felt his warm palm on me. He squeezed me in warning, and I closed my eyes against the feel of his touch.
“If you move, I won’t touch you,” he warned. I stilled at his words. I knew he was smiling when he said, “Good girl.”
He moved his hand. Back and forth, then side to side. I squeezed my sex, wanting to move so bad, but not wanting him to stop.
“Oh, God.”
“I’m going to make you feel so good, baby,” he promised. “And erase the memory of those who have touched you before me. After tonight, you won’t ever think about any of your former lovers again. And the next time you lie alone in bed, touching yourself, it’s going to be my face you imagine, my hands you think of, and the way I make you feel.”
“Yes, Wyatt,” I agreed with him. The next time I touched myself, I wouldn’t think of anyone else but him. As if there had ever been anyone else.
“You’re so wet, I can smell you from here.”
Heat ignited in my cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m not. Your scent is such a turn-on. I bet you taste even better. You’ll let me taste you, won’t you, Emery?”
I nodded.
“Say it. I need to hear you say it. In fact, beg me for it, my sweet girl. Beg me to put my mouth on that sweet pussy of yours. Beg me to drink up your sweet arousal while I fuck you with my finger.” He inserted a finger inside of me.
My sex clenched automatically against the intrusion, as pleasure and pain vied for my attention. I had never felt so stretched out.
“God, you’re tight. I knew you would be like this.” He moved his finger out a little, until only the tip remained inside me. When he pushed it back in slowly, I let out a low groan. “Do you like that?”
I could only let out a breathy “Yes,” in a voice that didn’t sound like my own.
“You’ll like this even more,” he said. And then he fucked me with his finger in every sense of the word. I bent forward over the counter, unable to hold myself up any longer, giving Wyatt a better view of my drenched sex.
He grabbed my hip with his other hand, all the while his finger never losing momentum. I could feel my arousal running down the inside of my thigh, and that seemed to turn him on, since his movements became almost frantic.
“Come for me, Emery,” he gritted out.
I felt the sinking sensation low in my belly, before the inside of my sex quivered with an impending orgasm.
It happened so fast, I was completely blindsided.
I might have screamed his name, I wasn’t sure. I fell over the edge, and somehow in my pleasure-filled brain, an inkling of fear trickled through. I fell hard and fast, and I was afraid he might not be there to catch me.
Sweat clinging to my skin was the first thing I noticed when I came back down. My breathing was labored, as if I had just run a marathon, and my eyes were closed.
Then I felt his tongue.
I tensed against the counter, unsure of what I was supposed to do. But then he took the aching flesh of my sex between his lips and sucked, and I stopped thinking altogether.
He hummed, and I nearly came from the vibration of his voice alone. It was too soon. Much too soon. I was still riding the high of the first orgasm. I was afraid I might still be too sensitive to handle coming a second time.
“Stop fighting me,” he mumbled around my sex.
“Wyatt.” The feeling was too much. Much too much. I wanted him to stop but I also didn’t want him to.
“I know what you need. You still sensitive here, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I cried out when I felt his tongue inside me. He was licking me, licking up all my wetness, as if it was made
just for him.
“I’m getting you ready. Okay? You’re so tight, I don’t want to hurt you.”
It registered in my mind briefly that I should probably tell him this was my first time. But I didn’t want to. I wanted to be rid of my virginity, which seemed to be more of a burden than anything.
Who better to give it to than this man? My attraction to him was insane. There was nothing compared to it. And that was what I had wanted the whole time—to lose it to someone I was attracted to. There was no future for us, he said so himself. That made our relationship a hell of a lot less complicated. It was perfect. So I kept my mouth shut and enjoyed having his mouth on me.
I let him eat me out like the starved man I knew he was, and I was too focused on my own pleasure to feel self-conscious about the noises I made. Then my thighs trembled with the looming orgasm, and I let go.
I might be embarrassed about it later on, but right now I needed him inside me or I just might die.
I must have spoken that thought out loud, because with a chuckle, he stood up and unbuckled his belt.
“I’m going to make this so good for you, baby.”
I nodded my consent. I knew he would. “Condom?”
He nodded and pulled one out of his pocket. He ripped the package open with his teeth, and my sex tightened at the sight. It seemed everything he did turned me on.
He smirked as if he could tell what I was thinking just from looking at me. Then he fumbled with his pants and pulled out his cock. I wanted to see him, all of him. But I was still leaning against the counter, and he was standing behind me. I could only see the upper part of his body in the reflection in the mirror. I saw his hands move and knew he was putting on the condom.
Even if I couldn’t see, just the thought of what he was doing was hot. I was drenched again.
He looked down and stared at my sex. “I love how wet you are for me,” he said, swiping his thumb across my entrance. My sex tingled from that touch alone.
I was aching and desperate, and I wanted... I wanted...
I met his gaze in the mirror. “Be gentle,” I said, and I was sure he could how defenseless I felt with him.
He nodded, his promise.
I almost smiled.
He grabbed my hips and slowly entered me from behind. I closed my eyes. I could feel myself stretching to accommodate his size. A burning sensation took hold, the deeper he went inside of me. Though I felt pain, the pain wasn’t as unbearable as I thought it would be. His hands encircled the small of my back, then he moved them up to my waist as he thrust his hips.
I bit my lip to keep from screaming out, from both pain and pleasure, but then he moved one hand down and played with my clit. My sex clenched from such a small touch, and the more he played with me, the more the pleasure won out.
The pain was still there, but it only worked to enhance the pleasure now.
I opened my eyes and met his in the reflection. His face was flushed, his skin was as sweaty as mine, and his posture was tense as he continued to fuck me. “How close are you?” he asked.
“Close.” I felt the same tingling sensation inside and knew the orgasm was coming. I clenched around him and heard him grunt in response. The noise was so sexy, I did it again, enjoying his reaction.
The hand that was still on my waist tightened almost to the point of pain. He might leave a bruise there.
I might like it.
A reminder of our time, even if it was temporary.
And then I felt him swell. My eyes widened, surprised he could get bigger. His movements became frantic, desperate, and so damn hot that I didn’t want the experience to end.
I came with a shout, and he followed behind.
I loved the groan he let out at the end. He wasn’t vocal during sex, that much was clear, even if he did talk dirty to me during foreplay. Maybe that was why I loved the little grunts he emitted in the heat of it. Like he couldn’t help himself.
I felt him soften inside me before he collapsed onto me, his body weight pushing me farther into the counter.
We were both breathing heavily, his chest pushing hard against my back. I didn’t tell him to move. I liked the weight of him there too much. It reminded me that what I had just experienced was real and all mine.
No one could take that away from me.
We didn’t say anything for a while, but I felt his hands caressing my skin, almost as if he was checking to make sure I was real. Then his lips were on my neck, as he licked away the perspiration before sucking on the skin there, probably leaving a love bite.
Was it wrong to want his mark on me?
I didn’t ask him to stop, and he didn’t until he’d left his mark. He moved back a little, probably admiring his work.
“We should get dressed and get back out there,” he said softly.
I nodded, having lost my voice. He stood up and pulled out of me. I felt the loss of him almost keenly. I stood up on shaky legs, ignoring the sore muscles in my limbs, back, and between my thighs, and searched the floor for my jeans.
Now that we weren’t in the bouts of passion, I felt oddly vulnerable. What we had done was more physical than what I had done with anyone else, but it was my emotions that felt all over the place.
I picked up my jeans and took a step toward the bathroom stalls. I needed a moment to myself. And I didn’t want to dress in front of him.
He stopped my movements with one hand to my elbow. I stuttered in my steps and looked up to meet his eyes, gray eyes that were shadowed in confusion.
I didn’t know why he looked like that until I saw what he had in his hand. The used condom with blood on it.
My blood.
I watched as realization made its way into his eyes, and his mouth opened, but nothing came out.
I didn’t say anymore. I walked into the stall and locked it. I tried to clean myself as best I could, and ignored the tinge of blood on the tissue paper when I threw it away.
After I got myself together the best I could, I took a deep breath and unlocked the stall door. I had expected Wyatt to be gone, but he was still there, still standing by the sink. He was dressed as well, but whereas I looked and felt like a big mess, he looked unbelievably sexy, with his hair mussed, his lips swollen, and his eyes bright.
Those bright eyes followed my every move now, and they followed me as I walked over to the sink, a small distance from where he stood, to wash my hands.
When I was done, I dried my hands on the white cloth, still avoiding his eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked quietly. Was there anger in his voice? I couldn’t be sure.
“Because it’s nobody’s business but my own.”
“Not my business? I just took your virginity in a public bathroom!”
“And it was my choice. Don’t think I expected anything more. I knew what I was doing when I kissed you.”
“No, baby, you did not know what you were doing. Otherwise you wouldn’t have let me blindly take your virginity. I hurt you, didn’t I?” He looked and sounded remorseful.
I filed away for later the term of endearment he used for me, as well as my reaction to it, and took a step closer to him. “It did hurt initially. Okay? But I still enjoyed myself. I don’t regret the way it happened, honestly. I have been trying to get rid of it for years, only I...”
“What?” He took a step closer to me. I tilted my head back to meet his eyes. I had forgotten how much bigger he was compared to me, until he started crowding me like that again.
“I just never found anyone I was interested in enough to give it to.”
“And you chose me?” he asked, sounding incredulous.
“I’m not going to lie and say I’m not attracted to you. You know I am. And you’re attracted to me too. That’s why I picked you. This doesn’t mean anything. I don’t expect anything from you, so stop acting like I killed your puppy or something. It was fun.” I grabbed his shoulder and hoisted myself up to kiss the corner of his mouth. I had wrapped my other han
d around his neck. I felt his muscles tense beneath my touch.
We held each other’s stare for a moment or two, before I let go and took a step back. I shot him a small smile and walked out of the bathroom.
I knew I should get back to the meeting, that my aunt was probably wondering where I had gone off to, only the thought of going in there and facing all those people felt like work. Hard work. And I didn’t have the energy or motivation for it. I took a left and found a small meeting room. The door opened just as I was about to knock. Jamie and another man I didn’t know walked out.
“Miss Caldwell. Are you okay? Can I help you with something?”
“Do you think I could have some privacy?” I asked.
“Of course.” He paused. “Did something happen? You don’t look... well.”
A mess, more like it. My hair was a mess as well as my makeup. “I’m fine. Really. I just need a moment to myself.”
“Okay. I’ll bring you some water.”
He was out of the room with the other man before I could protest. I took a seat on one of the chairs closest to me, burying my head in my hands. I had told Wyatt the truth when I said I had enjoyed myself. More than I thought I would for my first time.
But I might have made a mistake not telling him it was my first time, because now that I was no longer in the depths of ecstasy, the pain came back, and the ache was turning into so much more than a pang.
How could I face all those people when I was in discomfort and my emotions were all over the place? I needed a warm bath and rest. Maybe some ibuprofen. I pulled out my phone from my pocket and texted my aunt.
Me: Hey. I’m not feeling well. I think I’ll just head home. I’m sorry. Can you fill me in afterward?
Aunt Helen: Of course. Are you okay? Do you need anything?
Me: Thx, but I just need to rest. I’ll be fine.
I had just put the phone away when the door opened. I thought it was Jamie with my water, but to my surprise, Wyatt walked in instead, holding a bottle of water in his hand.
Neither of us said anything. Then Wyatt moved closer to me, handing me the water. Before I could say thank-you, he had me in his arms and was carrying me out of there.