by KD Robichaux
“He puked on me,” she blurts, and I come out of my reminiscence, feeling more confused than I think I’ve ever been.
“Wh… what?” I chuckle, shaking my head.
“Sorry, it just came out. I was thinking how amazing it is that you’re just opening up and telling me these things about yourself that you’ve obviously used a lot of energy keeping secret, and then I was thinking how I should share a secret with you, and that’s the first thing that flew out of my mouth… kinda like when he puked on me.”
“Who? What are you talking about?”
“I told you I had only had sex the one time. In college. And after that, I never did it again because it was so terrible. Well, it was the end of the semester my freshman year, and my best friend and I went to a frat party with the guy I’d been seeing. We drank lots of Jungle Juice, and I finally got it in my head that it was as good a time as any. I didn’t have anything to study for. I’d gotten the highest grade in the class, and you grow up being taught that your college years are when you’re supposed to get everything out of your system. So, by God, I was going to punch my V-card,” she says, and I listen with both curiosity and apprehension.
“So Rin goes off with her flavor of the night, and after a few drinks, Paul took me up to his room. Things were getting hot and heavy—well, what I thought was hot and heavy until… um, you.” She blushes and looks to her lap, and her confession helps ease the jealousy I was feeling, as my chest puffs up a bit. “Anyway, well, you see… I didn’t tell him I was a virgin.”
“Oh no,” I mumble, and she shakes her head.
“I know. Lord, don’t I know. I didn’t want to say anything and risk him not wanting to do it. I wanted my virginity out of the way. It was never anything special to me. I just had never had the desire to do it with anyone. But then the older I got, the more of a burden it felt like, especially with Erin always breathing down my neck about it. It’s like my virginity offended her somehow. But anyways. He put on the condom, got on top of me, and I guess just went for it like a guy normally would, thinking a girl was used to having sex.”
A feeling of dread creeps up the back of my neck. I just know what she’s about to say is going to be absolutely horrible.
“But when I let out the blood-curdling scream and he looked down to find… um, the barrier had been broken… he threw up. From his position on top of me. He vomited all the alcohol he’d been drinking that night, right down in my face, my mouth wide open since I had yelled out because it hurt so bad. So there I was, in excruciating pain, him still inside me, and he goes all Exorcist… in… my motherfucking… mouth.”
MY GUT ROILS, not at the thought of the vomit or the fact the shithead did it right in her face, although that would be fucking disgusting, but because my beautiful girl went through that. The smart, focused young woman had finally come out of her shell for one night of unadulterated fun, leaving her introvert personality behind to let loose and be a normal college kid for one party, and what happened? Probably the most traumatizing thing that had ever happened to her in her whole entire otherwise quiet, low-key life.
“What a goddamn pussy,” I growl, my voice echoing in the silence of the hollow tunnel.
“What?” she squeaks, and I realize she thinks I’m talking about her, probably assuming I was calling her a pussy over the pain of losing her virginity.
“He was a fucking pussy,” I clarify. “Who would vomit over the sight of a little blood, especially when they were goddamn lucky enough to be inside you?” I lean the short distance between our bodies and wrap my hand around the back of her neck, pulling her close to my face. I whisper against her lips, “If that had been me you were gifting with your first time—and no matter what you say about it not being special, it fucking is—it would have gone a lot differently. Your pussy would be the greatest gift to ever be given, whether it was your first time or not. Yeah, you could blame yourself all you want about withholding the information you’d never been with anyone before from him, but that’s complete bullshit, love.”
I give her a quick soft kiss on her lips before trailing across her cheek to her ear, and I feel her hands reach out and brace herself against my chest. I enjoy her shiver, growing rock-solid inside my jeans, as my hot breath tickles her ear. “Because if it had been me, you wouldn’t have had to say anything.” I move my lips downward, pressing them to the soft skin just below her ear, and I breathe in her intoxicating scent.
Gardenias. I would recognize it anywhere. Mr. Watson used to pick one from the garden at the orphanage and bring it to Miss Potts every day during their blooming season. The scent always reminded me of love and warmth, the same feelings I was coming to associate with the sexy woman in my arms.
I kiss a path down the column of her throat, letting my breath tease her, as I tell her, “I would’ve been able to tell by the way you trembled in my arms, my every touch a new feeling you’d never experienced before.” I travel back up to her pouty lips, taking them heatedly, to distract her as I uncross her legs and place them on the outsides of mine, dipping my tongue in to tangle with hers as she gasps when I move forward and lay her back. I reach across her and drag the jacket over, balling it up and placing it under her head as a pillow.
I growl against her mouth, “I would’ve known by the blush on your perfect face as I’d feel your smooth-as-silk skin beneath my hands, when I couldn’t keep them to myself any longer.” I brace myself on an elbow beside her head as I reach for the hem of her tank top, placing my hand flat on her soft stomach. “And how you’d begin to pant, your heart thundering audibly when you felt me moving it upward to your amazing breasts.” I enact my words, slowly gliding my hand up until I’m cupping her flesh, feeling her pebbled nipple in the center of my palm. I tweak it between the pads of my fingers, feeling her hips thrust upward as she whimpers.
I move my hand away, and the sound of her disappointed moan gives me the permission I need to lift her shirt. She shivers as her creamy skin is exposed before I take one nipple into my mouth, my erection becoming painfully hard in my jeans. Oh, how I’d love to rip them off and bury myself balls deep into her undoubtedly fist-tight pussy, but no. I’m enjoying driving her crazy, to a point I’m sure she’s never felt before. So I continue with my sweet torture.
As her hands move suddenly to grip the back of my head, holding me to her, I can’t help but grin around her hardened nub, grazing my teeth lightly over the sensitive peak, feeling her shudder beneath me. I suck it into my mouth before letting go with an audible pop. “I would’ve been able to tell by your responsiveness, your reaction to every tiny move I make,” I say, feeling her jerk and grind as my calloused hand slides down her side, light enough to tickle her, making her gasp.
I lean up onto my elbow, hovering over her angelic face, her mouth open slightly as she breathes shallowly, her eyelashes fluttering with her lids closed tight. “Look at me, love,” I demand, needing to see her responses clearly through her gaze, to make sure I’m only doing exactly what she wants. She opens her green eyes, glossed over with utter bliss, and I smile gently down at her before leaning down to kiss her for a brief moment.
As my hand reaches the waistband of her jeans, I pull back to watch her, while I explain, “I would’ve known by the way you’d suddenly hold your breath, waiting to see what I’d do next as I got rid of the only things standing in my way of your hidden treasure. Breathe, baby.”
She sucks in a breath as I unbutton her jeans and lean back on my knees to untie and rid her of her pink Chucks before sliding her pants down her long, lightly muscled legs. The damn jeans are tight as fuck, but grasping the fitted ankles of the denim, I pull them off swiftly, smiling to myself when her hands fly to her light gray cotton boy shorts to keep them from being pulled off with them. The sight of them couldn’t be sexier if they were a naughty black, lacy thong. They’re so perfectly Emmy, and the complete opposite of what I’m used to seeing on the other women I’ve ever been with, since they wanted to impress me with thei
r fancy lingerie. I almost groan in pained pleasure at how unintentionally sexy she is through her innocence, but I’m able to keep it in check, my sole focus on taking her to the brink of her comfort zone, to push her as far as I can without scaring her away.
Resuming my position on top of her, I press my hips forward, the heat of her cradling my cock, and I have no doubt she’s dampening the front of my jeans. The knowledge makes me momentarily lose my grip on the reins of my control, and I take her lips in a punishing kiss for having this power over me. I feel her hands gripping my hair and her own control slipping as I grind myself against her, but not wanting to push her too far too fast, I back off once again.
I continue where I left off, moving to whisper in her ear, since she seems to love the feeling of my breath there. “I would’ve known, when I drove you to the point of begging for me to touch you, but were too shy to allow yourself to ask. But knowing undoubtedly that you couldn’t take it anymore, I’d put you out of your misery. And the second I felt how soaked and tight you were, it would’ve confirmed what I already knew.”
I slip my hand inside the elastic of her boy shorts, finding nothing but soft, smooth skin before I reach wetness the likes I’ve never felt before. She’s drenched, and knowing I’ve done this to her, to a woman who said she’s never felt desire before, that possessiveness inside me explodes, and I have to fight the urge to growl, Mine, as I gently sink one finger into her tight pussy.
I watch her face contort, her eyes widening before clamping shut as her back arches, her chin lifting toward the ceiling of the catacombs. Her mouth opens with her gasp, and I give her a searing kiss as I stroke inside her silken walls. When her hips start to circle against my knuckles, I add a second finger, stretching her and making her whimper.
I bite my lip to keep control over my speed and depth, determined to get her completely ready. God, her face is the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen as I watch her pleasure play across her features. If I don’t do something to distract myself, I’m going to come right in my jeans like a damn schoolboy. So I begin to move down her body, all while making a ‘come here’ motion with my fingers against that magical spot inside her, trailing kisses over her soft skin.
I use my other hand to swiftly pull her underwear off, and when I’m positioned between her legs, I can tell she’s nervous, but I can also feel her determination to battle her fears. And that’s when I know Emmy is mine. Six years she’s lived without intimacy after her horrible first experience, and she’s chosen me to help her finally overcome her past. Unfamiliar emotions consume me, making me feel animalistic. I fight the urge to mark her in some way, to let all others know she belongs to me, and only me. This ingenious, gorgeous, remarkable woman is mine, whether she knows it yet or not.
I need to taste her. I’ve memorized the sight of her unrivaled face and body, her intoxicating scent. I’m addicted to the sound of her lyrical voice, with its light southern accent. I want to touch her everywhere at once, her buttery soft skin, her blazing core. The only one of my senses left to satisfy is taste, so I whisper against the lips of her pussy, “There would’ve been no rushing, love. There wouldn’t have been any doubt. You wouldn’t have been able to hide it from me. I would’ve tasted your innocence.”
With that, I remove my fingers, replace them with my tongue, and take a long, slow swipe from the bottom of her opening, all the way up to circle her clit. And as the breath she was holding whooshes out of her and I feel her thighs quiver against my shoulders, I release the growl I’ve been holding back as her flavor hitting my taste buds snaps what little hold I had left on my control.
I’d wanted to take it slow, build her up to the point her sanity would’ve broken, but instead, without even trying, my sweet Amelia turned the tables on me. I straight up devour her, alternating between lapping at her juices, nibbling at her clit, and pushing my tongue in as far as I can to taste her, something no other man on the face of the planet ever has. She’s mine, and if I can’t mark her in some visible way for the world to see, then I will brand her from the inside, making it so she never wants another man for the rest of her life.
“Oh, God,” she moans, as I continue to eat at her, my arms wrapping around her hips to hold her steady as her instincts take over and she grinds against my face. I fucking love it, feeling her letting go, allowing herself to enjoy what I’m doing to her, winning the war against her fears. I gently use my thumbs to pull back and completely expose her clit as I focus all my attention there, finding a light fluttering pattern with my tongue that has her back arching and her hands fisting in my hair. Every muscle in her body coils, and her breath comes out in pants, as she sobs, “Oh… oh, my God.” And to finally take her over the edge, I lave at her hardened bundle of nerves, groaning against her drenched flesh as I consume her, and I feel her shatter.
I slow my tongue’s assault on her pussy, but I don’t stop. I can’t. Not with the little gasps she makes, the sexy rolling of her hips, and the jerking of her muscles with every lick I take. So responsive. So fucking delicious. I never want this to end.
DEAR RA, ISIS, and all the gods, never have I felt such pleasure than what Dean just gifted me with, and continues to give me as he makes lazy figure eights around my clit and core with his tongue. The feeling is soothing at the bottom until he makes his teasing pass over the top, sending a shudder through me every time as he toys with the sensitive nub.
I’ve had self-induced orgasms before, admittedly to images of the man currently between my legs who gave me my first with another person, after waking up from dreams he would be the star of. But those didn’t hold a candle to the one I just experienced. Fuck, those didn’t even compare to the jolting aftershocks I keep having as he makes another pass with his mouth. And surprisingly, as he keeps circling, I grow less sensitive to the sensation, and my hips start rolling once again. But this time, I feel an overwhelming need to have something inside me.
I bite my lip as my head begins to thrash, pressing into my jacket until my back is arching, trying to push myself closer to him. What can I do to make him understand I need to be filled, when I don’t even understand the feeling myself? And as he continues his sweet torture, my hand grows a mind of its own and reaches to help me find relief. But before my fingers even reach my throbbing flesh, he grabs my hand in one of his in a vice-like grip, strong but without hurting me, and I whimper and meet his eyes.
“This pussy is mine. From now on, I’m the only one who gets to touch it. If it needs something, it’ll get it from me and me alone. Does it need something, Em?” he growls against my lower lips, and it sends another jolt through me, making me shiver. I know I should be pissed, shocked, revolted at his words, but instead, I feel like the most desired woman on the face of the planet. I can’t form words, and all that comes out is a low moan.
“Tell me what you want, love,” he urges, and picks up his figure eights once again.
Several passes later, when I’m in a near frenzy, I finally manage to sob out a, “Please!” my cry echoing throughout the tunnel.
His mouth leaves me, and suddenly he’s looming over me, and I peek up at him to find his lips glistening, his close-cropped beard framing them as his tongue darts out to lick the moisture my pussy left there. My eyes move upward to find his almost wild, and I tremble with need to find his desire and possessiveness on full display. All shyness leaves me with that look, and I find my hands reaching for his black tank. He lets me pull it off, up and over his head, and then I go for the button of his jeans.
I can feel his eyes burning into me as he allows me to do as I please, his massive, muscular arms flexing as he braces himself on his hands and knees above me, but my gaze is following what my hands are doing. I unbutton then slide down the zipper, finding black boxer briefs behind them, and hooking my thumbs into the waistband, I pull them both down over his hips until his cock springs free.
My heart skips a beat at the sheer size of him. He’s much larger than Paul, but I’m so desperate to f
eel him inside me, I don’t think twice about taking him into my hand and stroking him from root to tip. He’s like velvet over steel, the skin the softest I’ve ever felt, enveloping an erection so hard it looks painful. My hand looks so small wrapped around his cock, and when I start to feel intimidated, I peel my eyes away to meet his.
I find him watching me closely, seeming to enjoy my exploration of the first male anatomy I’ve ever bothered to explore, but I can see he’s fighting with himself, trying to keep still and let me make my own discoveries. That knowledge melts me, and all the feelings growing over the past few hours for this incredible man merge, and it hits me that who I thought was my enemy could actual be my one great love. He could be the Geb to my Nut, the Egyptian god of earth and goddess of sky and stars. There’s a fine line between love and hate, and I realize what I’m feeling for him has plowed through that thin barrier as he’s proven every single one of my old thoughts about him wrong. It was my own damn pride standing in my way, and I’d made Dean into the bad guy, when really, he was my knight in shining armor all along. It’s with that thought in mind that I take a deep breath, look into his amazing eyes, and do the bravest thing I’ve ever done before.
“Will you make love to me?” I ask, forcing my gaze to stay locked on his, even as I feel my entire body flush.
He stares at me for a few moments, his eyes caressing every part of my face, before he lowers himself on his elbows, to whisper in my ear, “I wasn’t expecting to find an angel in the catacombs, love. I don’t have any protection.”
I hadn’t even thought about that. Six years after having sex just the one time, it wasn’t something my busy brain really used up space for, but the feelings I have for this man, whose body presses closely to mine, his mutual emotions showing clearly, I feel nothing but trust for him, when I stutter, “I… I’m on birth control, for um… to keep me regulated. I uh… I got tested after—um.”