by Carter Ashby
"You need a moment?" he asked.
"For what?" she stood and looked out the window. It faced the road and the mountains beyond.
"To acclimate? Freshen up? Nap?"
She fingered the sheer, white drapes. "No, thank you. I think I'd like you to take my virginity, now, if you don't mind."
"Well in that case, let's go to my room." He took her hand, with a wry smile, and pulled her back across the hall. His room was twice the size of hers, had its own bathroom, and French doors leading onto the back deck. On either side of the doors were full-length windows displaying the most incredible view of the mountains.
"Wow," she breathed, as he opened the doors to let in the cool, fresh spring air. "Some gentleman, giving me the crappy room with no view."
"This is incentive for you to spend more time in my bed."
She didn't bother telling him that she needed no additional incentive. He came toward her and gripped her waist, pulling her against him. He dipped down and kissed her neck, and her blood instantly warmed. She threaded her fingers into his hair as she'd dreamed of doing for so long. His tongue on her neck made her legs go weak.
She started cataloguing her feelings, determining which were the acceptable, physical reactions, and which were the unacceptable emotional ones. It would take a while of observing him before she knew how much emotion she was allowed to show. Right now she just wanted to stay cool.
He pulled away and stroked her cheek with the backs of his knuckles. "Not gonna relax with me, are you? We've already talked too much."
"I'm just nervous."
"You don't look nervous."
"I'm being careful."
"That I believe."
"Should I not be careful?"
"Be whatever you need to be, Addison, but I'm gonna suck all the life out of this week that I can. It may be all we get. Let's make it good."
She nodded. He smiled, gently removing her glasses and setting them on the nightstand. Then he removed his glasses and sat them next to hers. She giggled. "We're such nerds."
"We make those glasses look good, kid."
"Don't call me that."
He brought her against him, again, and held her. "I've got twelve years on you."
"I don't care, I'm not a kid."
"I'm sure as hell not gonna treat you like a kid."
"Good. Can you shut up and fuck me already?"
He stepped back with a laugh. "Jesus, Addison. Don't you wanna take it slow? Ease into it?"
She shook her head, took a breath, stepped back and started unbuttoning her blouse.
His jaw tightened, and his expression sobered. He untucked his shirt and started unbuttoning it as he watched her. "Tell me about your experience. You've been kissed before?"
"Done a lot of kissing."
"Touched?"
"Joel squeezed my breast over my sweater one time, just before I broke up with him."
She was down to her last button. Time to commit. She stalled by reaching back and taking down her hair, shaking it out loose around her shoulders. Then, without looking at him, because she couldn't bear to, she shrugged out of her top, leaving her there in her skirt and black lace bra.
"What about by yourself?" he asked, his voice coming lower now, a hint raspy. His shirt hung open, and Addy caught a glimpse of well-formed pecs and abs with just a smattering of hair that trailed delectably down into the waist of his slacks. His fingertips traced the curve of her breast along the edge of her bra. She had to remind herself to breathe.
"Um. Not much luck by myself. I've tried."
"Never had an orgasm?" He grabbed her breast and squeezed. "God."
She put her hand over his because she never again wanted to live in a world where his hand wasn't on her breast like that. She forced herself to look up. His expression was dark and determined, tense with restrained passion. His eyes focused on her mouth. He brought her against him and kissed her. She clung to his open shirt. He pried it from her hands and discarded it, leaving him bare chested and beautiful before her.
He unclasped her bra, flung it to the floor, and brought her hard against him. She gasped as her breasts pressed to his chest. His kiss bruised her lips, yet she couldn't get enough. With his shirt gone, she clung to his shoulders, his muscles roped with tension. She was still uncomfortable with touching him, not sure where she should touch or how.
His hand was at her skirt, unzipping, shoving it down. And then he wasn't there anymore. He'd stepped away and was grinning as she stood there in nothing but her black, lace panties, stockings and high heels. She immediately covered her breasts with her arms.
"God, look at yourself," he said, admiring her. He moved back into her space. He hugged her to him, lifted her off her feet, and fell with her onto the bed. Now his lips were everywhere, her face, her neck, her shoulder, working their way down. His hands were everywhere, sliding up her thigh, around to her ass, the curve of her waist, working their way up. His hips were wedged between her legs, and she felt the length of his erection fitted against her. She felt…
His hand reached her breast, and his mouth reached her other breast, and there were no more thoughts in her head, only sensations. His tongue and his fingers kneaded, pinched, sent surging jolts of heat straight to her core.
She was shaking, trembling from head to toe, still holding onto his shoulders. He kissed and licked his way down her belly, down and further down. She panicked. "Grey! I'm not ready! I'm not ready for that!"
His mouth was on her, over her panties, and her voice was gone. He stood back and peeled her panties off, taking a moment to look at her, in her black stockings and high heels. He ran his hands up her legs, inside her thighs. Then he hooked her knees over his shoulders and buried his face in her.
She screamed then sobbed. She couldn't come like this, it was too much, too intense. But he didn't seem to be doing it entirely for her. He licked and sucked like he was kissing her. Like he was taking something he needed. The sensation changed. His tongue hit her just right, and she stilled. He did it again. On the third time, she grabbed his hair, thrusting against his mouth, lost in what she was doing.
Her body opened up with searing, white heat, and then she was screaming and sobbing as she completely lost control, and this magnificent pleasure took her in its grip, pulsating through her, possessing her regardless of her will.
When it was gone, she lay there, the room suddenly quiet like the aftermath of a tornado. She lay there destroyed, helpless, and at peace.
But Grey wasn't done with her. He was on his feet, shoving out of his pants and boxer-briefs. Addison looked away, but then his fingers were on her chin, turning her to face him. "Look at me," he said harshly. "Touch me."
She looked at him. She reached out to touch him and was shocked when he moaned. She gazed at him, his eyes closed, a vein on his forehead protruding.
"Touch me more," he commanded. He was on his hands and knees over her. She gripped him with both hands and tugged. He dropped his forehead to hers. She kissed him and stroked him, gradually gaining confidence.
He moved off her, out of her hands. He climbed off the bed and dug around in his suitcase, coming out with a condom.
Addison's heart raced. This was it, then. This was really happening. As he suited up, she sat up to remove her stockings.
"Leave them on," he rasped. "So hot, Addison."
He grabbed her hips and slid her to the edge of the bed, standing between her legs. "You got any preferences on this?" he asked. "Or do you want me to take charge?"
She nodded. "You take charge."
He smiled and pushed her knees up, spreading her legs. She was completely bare and open and vulnerable and never so excited in her life. His thumb began to massage her in that magical spot so that she barely noticed him poised at her entrance. He began pushing inside of her. She cried out, overwhelmed at being filled by a man for the first time.
"Good or bad?" He asked, his teeth clenched shut.
She could only cry out. H
e pushed farther and deeper, moving out, pushing back in, out, in, until he was all the way in. "Give me your hand, Addison."
She must have given him her hand because he held it and brought it down to her clit. He used her fingers to massage her while he thrust gently in and out of her. At last she was massaging herself as he lifted her legs onto his shoulders, hugging them with his arms and focusing on his own movements. She realized he was watching her hand, but she wasn't even faintly embarrassed.
"Grey!" she cried, as she was on the verge of another orgasm and not at all sure she could endure it.
He didn't have an answer for her. His head was dropped back, his throat exposed, lost in his own pleasure. She could stop touching herself, but she didn't want to. She felt it happening, this time. She was prepared, and she braced herself, gritting her teeth, as the orgasm exploded. She rocked against him, writhed against him. He had her hips, now, pounding hard and fast until he, too, was crying out. She felt him pulsing inside of her, heard him groaning, and saw his eyes go glassy as he lost himself in the pleasure.
She fell back and let her eyes drift shut.
Waking up after that sequence of sexual firsts felt like waking up to heaven. All those damn love songs had it right. Even in the waning daylight, the world was brighter. Her heightened senses thrilled at the warmth of his arms around her, his body at her back, spooning her beneath the blankets. His breath was soft in her hair as he laughed quietly.
"I've never seen a woman fall asleep so quickly."
"I think I passed out," she whispered.
"No, you just rolled over and went to sleep. I had to drag you up here under the covers."
She grinned and burrowed back against him. "How long have I been out?"
"About twenty minutes."
The light outside was dimming. The sun must have already set. "It was good, Grey. You did a really good job."
"I'll add it to my special skills on my résumé: advanced experience in deflowering virgins."
She started to ask how many virgins he'd deflowered in his lifetime, but she decided she didn't want to know.
"One," he said. "My first girlfriend in high school. We were each other's firsts."
"I wasn't going to ask."
"You wanted to, though."
She didn't bother denying it. "I'm hungry, Grey."
He kissed the back of her neck. "I like being on a first name basis with you, Addison. Let's shower and go out."
As reluctant as she was to leave the bed, the prospect of showering with him thrilled her. She wasn't lying about being hungry, either.
They walked hand-in-hand and naked to the bathroom to step under the hot spray of the shower. They took turns washing each other's hair and bodies until they forgot what they were doing, losing themselves instead in kisses and touches.
Addy's eyes wanted to drift shut, but she would force them open so that she could see him. Memorize him. His mouth on her breast, she wanted to know what that looked like, the movement of his jaw as his tongue worked her into a frenzy. The sight of her hands in his hair as he knelt between her legs and lapped at her. Professor McDaniel, licking her private parts, it was too much to endure.
She came against his mouth, again, and braced herself against the tile walls of the shower until he could stand up and hold her, his erection pressing into her belly. She touched him. Stroked him. She experimented with movements until she found something that made him go rigid and silent, his fingertips digging into her waist.
She pumped him gradually faster, watching his agonized expression until he cried out, watching him come like a fountain, ribbons of him, coming all over hands. Now she knew what that looked like and would never forget the timing of his facial changes and guttural moans and coming. His grip on her relaxed and he dropped his lips into her neck and wrapped his arms around her.
She watched her hands rinse clean in the spray behind him as she held him. She kissed his shoulder and nuzzled against it.
Eventually they left the shower, dried, and dressed. He took her to a fancy restaurant where she let him pay. They went to a bar, after, for drinks, and sat together in relative silence. She didn't know about him, but she had nothing else to say. They'd done nothing but talk for three years. Now that they'd made love, she felt as close to complete and happy as she imagined possible.
When they got home, it was nearly ten o'clock. She went to her room and changed into one of the sexy nighties she'd bought. It was pale pink, halter style, lace and chiffon, with a matching thong. She wasn't sure if he expected her to wear things like this or not, but she wanted to do it. She hoped he would like it.
She found him sitting at the kitchen table, still dressed, his glasses on, frowning at his laptop. Probably grading essays or checking the student forums. She stood watching him until he looked up. He stared, mouth open, for what seemed like forever. Then he grinned, slammed the laptop shut, and came toward her.
"Beautiful, kiddo."
"I'm not a kid."
"No, you most definitely are not." He rested his hands on her shoulders looked her up and down, raking her with his heated gaze. "Maybe a little," he said. "Just in here." He trailed his fingertip along the corner of her eye.
"I'm not," she replied, going for assertive but not quite pulling it off.
"You're brand new. Someone who just finished being a kid, now playing at being a grown woman. You're composed, Addison, but be honest. There's a little bit of rebellion going on here, isn't there?" He moved toward her so that her breasts were touching his chest through the crisp, white shirt he had on.
"I have no authority to rebel against," she answered, as she slid her hands flat up his abs and chest. "I'm an adult."
"Mm. If you're not rebelling, then you're playing a game. That's what this is, isn't it? You saw some soap opera about a student running off with her professor, and now you're re-enacting the drama?"
She frowned, meeting his eyes, now. He was smiling as though this was all a joke, but she caught the insecurity, just around the edges of his expression. "Are you afraid?" she asked.
A laugh. "Afraid of what?"
There was no answer to this that she could think of. She took a step back and answered his other question, instead. "I'm not playing a game, Grey. But I am having a first time. My first time with a man. My first time with you. This is my first time wearing something sexy for a man." She looked down and fingered the lace edge of her baby doll gown. When she managed to glance back up, she saw that she had his attention, or rather her legs had his attention. Suppressing a grin, she said, "Don't you like it?" She spun, slowly, glancing over her shoulder at him. This was a thrilling element of their relationship. It hadn't occurred to her what a feeling of power she'd get from his lust.
"I like it."
Heat coursed through her. Grey's eyes were wide and hungry, his jaw tight. Whatever insecurity had prompted him to ask those ridiculous questions was gone, now. Now that he was under her spell, her confidence soared. She closed the distance between them, grabbed Grey's tie, and gave it a yank. "Don't you wanna touch me, Grey?"
He started to grin. "You'd better be careful, Addison."
She stepped back again, stretched up, and braced herself against the hallway walls on either side of her. She slid her bare foot up the inside of Grey's leg. "Why? Am I playing with fire? Are you gonna ravage me, Grey? You gonna make a woman out of me?"
He grinned all out, then. In a flash, he grabbed her ankle and moved into her, hooking her knee over his hip and hugging her tightly to his chest. He stared down into her eyes as he gripped one of her breasts, massaging and teasing it. "You aren't fooling me, kiddo, talking big, acting like you know what you're doing. I can feel you shaking in my arms."
"That's lust."
"Yeah. And fear. You got no idea what's coming next."
She felt her own smile falter, because he was right. She really didn't know what was next. But she did have absolute faith that Grey wouldn't hurt her. There just happened to be a who
le, gray area of non-dangerous experiences that she still found frightening. "Y-you're a gentleman," she said. "I'm c-confident you'll temper your passion with good sense."
His smile was all-out wicked, and Addy felt the power shift. Surprisingly, she found it was no less thrilling being at his mercy than having him at hers. He spun her around and pressed her palms to the wall, high over her head. "A gentleman, huh?" he muttered, as he yanked down her thong, leaving it down at her ankles. "If a gentleman is someone who fucks you while still wearing a tie, then I guess that's what I am."
Addy's heart thundered in her ears. She'd thought they would go back to the bedroom, undress, and lie down together. She'd thought they would be facing each other, moving slowly, and kissing. "Grey?" she gasped, uncertain of what was happening.
She heard his pants unzip, but when she started to turn and look at him, he stopped her. "Face the wall, Addison."
He gripped her hips and pressed down on her upper back so that her ass was arched out toward him. "Oh," she gasped.
"I think about this in the office sometimes," he said. Addy heard the sounds of a condom being ripped open and rolled on. "I try not to. I try to think of you in a respectful way. But sometimes I just can't help it, and I think about you, like this, against a wall. I think about hiking up those tight skirts of yours, ripping off your panties and…"
He thrust his length inside of her, jolting her forward. Addy screamed in shock.
"And doing this to you," he said, his voice tight through his teeth. He gripped her hips and pulled her back toward him. He pulled out and slammed in again. Addy braced herself against the wall to keep from being shoved through it by the force of his thrusts. "Is it insulting?" he asked. "Knowing I'm thinking of you like this?"
She opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. He was unhooking the halter behind her neck, freeing her breasts. He took one in his hand and squeezed.
"I wouldn't want to make you feel disrespected," he said, still thrusting and kneading. How was he still talking?