The Virginity Mission

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The Virginity Mission Page 8

by Cate Ellink


  “Why’d you start?” It came out a little snappier than I wanted but I had to ask.

  He grins. “I couldn’t resist.” His grin fades and the intensity is back in his gaze. His eyes are feasting on me like I’m his last meal. It’s unnerving and amazing at the same time. A muscle bunches at the back of his cheek against his ear. His eyes are the darkest chocolate. “Things got out of hand too quickly.” I almost don’t hear his words over the low and intense rumble that comes with them. Is he mad at me or himself? Did I do something wrong, even though I thought it was right? I can’t tell.

  I have enough problems worrying about me and my reaction. I can’t worry about him too. I have to get out of here before we end up in another steamy kiss that will fry my brain—and probably his too.

  “Yep, well, I’ve gotta go.” I sweep my swimmers up, clutching them to me like they’ll give me comfort. I step away from him and he lets me go. I fill my memory up with the sight of him. Dark eyes, slight smile, wide shoulders. Blue shorts, tanned skin, loads of muscle. Hard-on.

  He has a hard-on and he’s sending me away?

  I turn on my heels and flee back to my tent, as fast as I can, as silently as I can. I do arouse him. I’m not repellent. Maybe there is hope, even if I have to wait for the trip to end.

  Some days when we were walking, I thought they’d last forever but today leaves them for dead. It’s the longest day of my life. I managed to snatch a few seconds of sleep whenever the turmoil slowed in my mind. I make it through breakfast, even though I’m not hungry. Jason drives us to the boats. How he manages to drive, I have no idea. His eyes are on me all the time, intense burning eyes. Sometimes I think they hold an apology, sometimes a promise, other times they are just too intense for me to hold his gaze. At the boats I have to leave but his smile is full of promise and has my legs going wobbly. Thankfully the mangrove work calls to me. Leaving him today is only temporary. Tomorrow I don’t want to think about. I wave as we take off in the boats and I’m sure he grins.

  The mangrove work is still enjoyable even when my mind’s screwed up. The mangrove team are great to work with. While I’m working with the boss, on my own for a change, I ask him about the possibility of working with them in the future. It’s our last day here and my last chance to chat about the future. His response is reassuring. “I can’t make promises but I’ve no objection to you applying. A few jobs should come up soon.” I’ll have to keep a lookout for them. I’d love a career in mangrove research.

  The drive back to the campsite is little different to the morning trip. Jason’s gaze doesn’t leave me. I should bask when someone pays me that much attention except I’m drowning in emotion. I know he likes me. I know we both want to have sex, hell, we almost did last night. I don’t know if I can handle the stomach churning, the lack of hunger, the burning in my throat, the sweating of my palms and the constant state of arousal and wetness down below.

  Thank goodness Ed asks me to call Jason to dinner. I get a few seconds alone with him. Before I can say anything, he captures my hand and pulls me up against him so I can feel every inch of his delicious body. Chills slide down my spine as his breath tickles the shell of my ear. Then he whispers against my ear, “Mac, after dinner, without anyone knowing or seeing you, will you come to me?”

  Is he insane? He has to ask me? “Of course.” My grin is instantaneous. I was going to visit anyway. I don’t need the frustration but his kisses are something I can’t live without. I haven’t had one today. Not since daylight anyway.

  There’s no time for more, we’re needed at dinner.

  At dinner we sit apart but our eyes keep finding each other’s. I hope no one notices his heated glances that lock on to me like heat-seeker missiles. Sometimes he smiles or winks and my face burns up. Usually I blush when I’m embarrassed but this is different. There’s no embarrassment, it’s pure lust.

  I want to flirt back but I don’t know what I can do. Winking is his thing. I could blow a kiss but not in a crowd. Without consciously thinking of what I’m doing, I run my tongue along my lips and his eyes widen before closing for a few seconds too long. I wait a few more minutes and when I’m sure no one except Jason is watching I part my lips and run my tongue across my bottom lip in a slow drawn out manner. His eyes darken, his lips part and my heart soars. His mouth breaks into that sexy, devilish grin I adore. Tonight the grin holds a wickedness that has me wet with anticipation. I’ve hardly eaten my dinner because I’m so keyed up.

  Jason leaves, and after what seems like hours of torture, everyone eventually goes to bed. Tip-toeing to his campsite, toiletries and towel under my arm as my disguise, I find him pacing in front of the vehicle like a caged panther. I grin, glad I’m not the only one who’s eager.

  He sees me when he turns and in a few strides our bodies meet, lips catch together and he devours me like I’m dessert. It’s like the start of last night—hot and heady. I revel in it. He tastes of decadent male and the rich dark coffee he recently finished. His lips are soft and hard at once. His tongue tantalises my mouth. I want every bit of him. I need him like I need air.

  While we kiss, he walks me backwards. I move with him, unquestioning. We break apart for air and we’re at the rear of the vehicle which he’s parked so the back faces the trees and beach. No one can see us. My heart races. He’s planned this. Privacy.

  My hands slip beneath his shirt, skimming across his chest. The pads of my fingertips graze his nipples again and again, making not only his but my nipples squeeze tight. I’m too timid to stroke towards his shorts, so I sweep my hand across his stomach, muscles rippling beneath my touch. I’m dying to wrap my hand around his cock but after last night I think it can wait, just in case I cause it all to stop. Again.

  Through the dazed fog of lust, I realise his hands aren’t that busy on me. His lips haven’t stopped but his hands aren’t moving from my back. Maybe his plan isn’t for privacy and sex. My hands still and our kiss tapers off. My heartbeat grinds to a halt. It’s not going to happen.

  “I need to explain before we go any further.” He laces his fingers through mine as we sit on the tailgate. We sit close, our legs hanging off the edge rubbing against each other. There’s comfort in his closeness. I need explanations but I can’t remember the questions.

  All I can think about is the rougher texture of his leg against the silken smoothness of mine. My skin is hyper-sensitive to his. Thank goodness I shaved them again this morning and doused them in moisturiser not long ago. The wonder of showers and caravan parks! I didn’t have that luxury walking.

  Jason speaks, looking straight ahead into the scrubby bushes. “I didn’t want this duty. I lost trust in women after the last trip. But Mac, you’re different. There isn’t anyone here who interests me, except you. I like you. You think about people, like with the water bottle. I don’t pick up women easily but I’ve had women before. I’m eight years older than you.” He sucks in a big breath. “If any of that bothers you, please tell me.” He stops but doesn’t look at me.

  He likes me. He likes me. He likes me. I can’t get past that. He likes me! He’s waiting for an answer and I need to work through the rest of his words. As if he wouldn’t have had women before, they probably fall at his feet. Sure I’ve noticed we have an age gap but it’s not just years. If he was my age, I’d still feel naïve near him. Surrounding him is a strong commanding presence. He turns my brain to mush, my blood to boiling, and my muscles to liquid. It has nothing to do with his age.

  “None of it bothers me.” It comes out more intense than the flippant words imply. And I am tense, this conversation is important to whatever happens next and I so want it to be better than last night.

  He continues with the same seriousness. “If you’re sure you want to have sex, it would be my pleasure to be your first. I made a camp for us so we shouldn’t get caught and I have condoms.” The whole speech is quick, matter-of-fact and sounds like he’s been rehearsing all day. I know I should respond with equal dignity but I do
n’t. I can’t. I laugh. Not completely hysterically, but not just for fun either. It’s the laugh I use when I don’t know what to do, except it’s a little closer to hysteria.

  “You really want to have sex? With me?” Every question I had has gone except this two-parter. Every question I had boils down to this anyway.

  “If you’d like to. No pressure.”

  He wants to have sex! I’m giddy. At no point did I imagine having a conversation like this before losing my virginity. I truly thought it would be some mad scramble after drinking when a guy forgot it was me. And here I am with a man who cares that it is me and wants my first time to be special. My heart’s thumping so loud, it’s a wonder he can’t hear it. “I’d like that more than anything in the world.”

  “Me too.” He turns his head and his gaze meets mine. His eyes are full of sincerity—clear, brown and honest. Mine are probably spinning from the giddiness in my head.

  I grin like a Cheshire cat. Then I ask in the most off-hand voice I can muster, “Will you hate me if you lose your stripes?” I’m asking if taking the risk is worth it, whether I’m worth it. I don’t really want to hear the answer. I don’t want to know I’m not but there’s a chance I am, a chance the elation I’m feeling could double. I’m a sucker for elation.

  It takes forever before he answers. He’s still grinning, no doubt taking my question with a grain of salt. “Probably. But I know it’ll be worth it.”

  I soar on wings of elation. He did know I meant it. Nothing is this good. He tweaks my nose with his free hand before cupping my jaw and leading my lips to his. I need no encouragement. I’ve waited a long time to find someone willing to break my curse.

  His lips are feather soft for only a second before we both move into the kiss and feather soft becomes burning need. I can’t get enough of his taste. The movement of his lips against mine is like rubbing against a silk shirt over and over. And his tongue—it’s totally and completely wicked. It slips against my lips, inciting cells to riot. When it plunders my mouth, it’s like I’m filled by him. His taste is as familiar and welcome as my own. Our tongues slip together, like we do; perfectly aligned, battling for control, giving and receiving in turn.

  When our kiss softens, he pulls away before nipping at my bottom lip. His teeth snag the flesh and drag across so lightly but incredibly powerfully. It sends a huge shudder through me. I’m left gripping his forearms until my body recovers.

  “Our boudoir.” He points into the back of the vehicle where he’s created a makeshift bed with his sleeping bag and a blanket. The tarps are down, so it’s dark and cosy, effectively creating a private room for our pleasure. With not much to work with, and not a lot of time, he’s done well.

  “Nice.” He’s taken so much time and care. It’s unexpected and warms my heart. He’s so much more than I expected, so much more than I wanted and everything I need.

  We kiss and try to wriggle backwards at the same time, which isn’t easy. I keep laughing as I bump into his nose and get caught in blankets. We hardly move at all and we break our kiss because I’m laughing too hard.

  “It’d be easier to strip first and then climb in.” I don’t know where this piece of sanity comes from but my mouth spurts it out.

  “You’ll glow in the moonlight and attract attention.”

  Good point. My laughing is already enough of a risk. I’m trying to smother it but my nerves aren’t helping.

  We shed our clothes just inside the back of the vehicle, struggling in the tiny cramped space. My arms, fingers, legs and toes poke Jason so many times I’ve stopped apologising. Why am I complaining? It’s our space, our time alone and I’m going to enjoy every second.

  Finally naked, I move into our room, crawling over the makeshift mattress. Jason’s behind me. I can feel his breath and the warmth from his body against my flank. When I turn around his looming darkness is right there, surrounding me and I’ve never felt as safe. My hands splay across his chest. Fingers flexing into those rounded pectoral muscles. One day I’ll explore him in light but for now, darkness enhances my senses which makes touching him all the more enjoyable. His body is hard and soft at once, making my fingertips tingle. His skin soft, hair harsh, muscles tight. A myriad of textures making me wet and wanting.

  Then my brain freezes. One day I’ll explore him in the light? What was I thinking? Don’t think. Don’t spoil it. Live for now.

  He strokes me. Kisses me. Pinches, teases, nips, licks and sucks me. I’m on a rollercoaster of emotion that keeps climbing higher. I’m not sure what to do. I’m overwhelmed. One minute I’m thinking, then next there’s nothing but him. I thought it’d be easier tonight but it’s more intense. I arch, grasp hold of him, pull myself against him, away from him. I bask in his touch and I leap from it. I’m insane with sensation.

  “You have to promise me one thing.” He waits until I nod against his cheek. “Don’t touch my cock or this won’t last.”

  Last? “I don’t want it to last, I want it to happen.”

  He chuckles before nipping my earlobe which shoots a crazy sharp buzz through my whole body. “You want it to last, trust me.”

  I nod.

  His fingers stroke down my stomach, making my breath catch. They slide further, right across the ends of my pubic hair. Every hair straightens and the flesh beneath screams to be touched. Fuck. It’s the only word that comes to my head while shudders wrack my body.

  He takes his time, stroking down my thigh, across my hair again, down the other thigh. God, I’m in agony. My pussy screams for his touch. I beg but he refuses, chuckling while his hands push my legs apart. His lips follow his hands, nipping and lapping across my stomach. I don’t think I can breathe at all. He’s not going to…oh god, what if he does?

  His tongue slides from the point of my hip bone to my inner thigh and I almost careen up into his face. I’ve never felt anything like it. His mouth is on my right thigh but his warm breath is causing my cunt and clit to clench. The wet heat between my thighs must be almost suffocating him but he doesn’t seem affected. Slowly, calmly, as if he’s doing the most ordinary thing in the world, his mouth causes chaos along my thigh, behind my knee, over my knee bones, and down my calf. At the largest part of my calf muscle, he sucks against my flesh before his tongue slides to the back of my ankle. He nips against the thin bone there before kissing over the top of my feet. I think I’m going to dissolve into laughter. His hands on my feet are making me squirm.

  “Not my feet.” I bite out the words between panicked laughter. I can’t handle my feet being touched.

  He doesn’t stop. He firmly grasps the soles of my feet in his hands and holds tight. My body calms. The crazy sensations in my feet still. My ragged panting slows to sane breaths.

  “Can you handle this?” He sounds like he’s laughing and then his head dips and wet heat surrounds my big toe. His lips close on it and he sucks. Fuck! No. Before I can say a thing, his mouth pops from my big toe and he sucks the next. I can’t squirm because it’s not exactly ticklish but the sensation is overwhelming. My feet are hot and held tightly. Cold air whips across my wet toes. Then moist heat floods the next toe he sucks. I’ve died and gone to heaven. My brain has ceased functioning while he attends to my feet.

  His mouth makes its way lazily up my left leg. Teasing the calf muscle, nibbling against my knee, then his tongue slips along my inner thigh. I can hardly move but my back arches as he reaches my groin. His tongue slips from my groin to the point of my left hip bone. I can almost think again.

  But not for long. That wicked, well-travelled tongue laps across the base of my stomach. I’m sure there’s nothing more for him to taste. But he has other ideas. He grasps the back of my thighs and lifts my hips slightly. Moving his hands to beneath my butt, he supports me, while I’ve turned to liquid mush.

  He’s going to do it.

  His gaze locks to mine and slowly, he lowers his head towards my soaking pussy. He looks like he’s ready to enjoy a feast. I don’t know what to thi
nk, or feel. My focus is on his eyes, his lips. His lips are so close I can feel them brush against my wet throbbing nether lips. I gasp, just as he plunders.

  Nothing, nothing prepared me for this.

  A scream rips from my throat and I bite down on my forearm. I know I can’t scream or it will draw people here. My brain must be working. But dear god in heaven, I’ve never felt anything like this. It’s mind-numbingly fantastic but my brain’s saying he shouldn’t be down there. I squirm and rock beneath him. Unsure if I want to pull away or push into his face. I love it but it’s overwhelming.

  His mouth seems to suck, lick and probe everywhere at once. My body is a quivering mass of need. And then something happens. His mouth locks tight to my clit and a burning throb threatens to overwhelm me. I fight hard against it but it sweeps me away. I’m tumbling, spinning, out of control. I’ve arched into him and he’s holding me tightly. I let myself be swept away.

  Dark and dizzying.

  Colours shooting wildly past.

  Gasping for breath.

  Filled with an incredible sense of wonder, I drift back down to his arms. They’re secure around me and I’m caught safely. My eyes are so heavy they can’t open. My mouth is open instead, swallowing air. My scent is rich and musky on the salty tang of the air.

  Just as I feel as if I’m recovering, he slides his fingers across my cunt. One hard pass that has juices flowing as my greedy lips clench in need. How can I need more? I moan and he captures it between his lips, sucking my mouth. It’s me on my mouth and I almost jerk away in horror but then I taste him beneath, his dark powerful taste and I melt into the kiss, held tightly against his chest as his arms come around my back.

  I’m against his body, my legs parted, kneeling on our makeshift bed. My mind is working again and then his fingers slip between my wet folds. My thighs clench around them but his fingers don’t stop. He strokes back and forth, stoking embers to flames and I’m on fire again. His hand is different to his mouth, harder, more insistent and stronger. I try to close my thighs but his hand holds them apart. When I think it can’t get any better, he pushes a finger inside me. I pant as shock, pain and desire overwhelms me. He takes his time, holds his finger still until my breath catches and then he begins to stroke. I writhe with pleasure as he impales and releases. Surely I’m at the peak of the rollercoaster. Nothing can feel better than this.

 

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