by J. J. Bella
But I was anxious, and I was excited—and my mind was clear in what I wanted now. Not just my mind, actually, but also my heart.
And my body.
I wanted Peter to be my first.
The decision to lose my virginity to him tonight was a decision that shocked even me, but I realized the more I thought about it the more I wanted it. If his kisses were that electrifying, how much more his touch? I wanted to touch him, too, and to make him feel the things he made me feel.
Peter kept himself in control, but his eyes followed me as I took every bite of the fruit and closed my eyes in pleasure. His eyes just kept darkening, and something in me rejoiced that I was able to pull out that intense reaction from him. I licked my lips from time to time, almost having to stifle a smile at how his hands fisted at his sides.
Belatedly, I realized that the car was still moving even when Peter’s house was just near the hotel and church. I looked out in surprise and found that we were already past that area and driving off further. Because the driver seat was now separated by a privacy cover, there was no one to ask but Peter.
“Where are we going?”
A gleam entered Peter’s eyes. “It’s a surprise. You’ll see.”
“Oh.” I tilted my head. I smiled. “I love surprises,” I exclaimed.
Then, because I could no longer contain myself—and maybe the champagne had something to do with it—I leaned heavily against my new husband and pressed a hungry kiss on his lips.
And he didn’t protest at all.
Peter
Rachel was kissing me like there was no tomorrow, and it was threatening to unravel my control bit by bit before we even got out of the car.
Her kisses were like a dream—sweet, absolutely so sweet, tinged with a sensuality that was slowly rising to the surface. I could tell she was inexperienced in this department, but that didn’t stop her eagerness and her openness to try new things. When she opened her mouth and her tongue came out to tease my lips, it was all I could do to hold back from just grabbing her and pulling her on my lap. Jesus, I wanted to rip her clothes off her and just slide my hard-on inside her, and it was so inappropriate and not what she deserved on her first night with me.
Every time she slid her hands on my chest or pressed her body closer, I had to remind myself that she was a virgin who required care and patience, not some one night stand I could have a careless tryst with in the back of a limousine. Every time she sighed in pleasure, I had to repeatedly tell myself that she’d drunk a lot of champagne and was probably feeling loose and giddy right now, which translated to her acting bolder. I knew she wasn’t drunk, but a few more drinks and she would get in that direction—so I had to be extra careful, because I wanted this day to be special for her and not just some blurry memory.
Plus I didn’t even know how she really felt about the matter. She kissed me, sure, but that could be it for her, and I didn’t want to hope too much and end up feeling disappointed. If she wanted to sleep tonight without going any further, then I was going to do my best and just sleep beside her, too. If she wanted to feel pleasure without having to be penetrated, then I was damn hell going to use my hands and mouth and tongue to make her scream with the intensity of it.
The thought alone had me hardening all the more, so I tried to get it out of my mind.
For now, I settled for kissing her back and finally granting her tongue the access it wanted. She clumsily swept her tongue inside my mouth, seeking mine out, and I teased her and evaded until she whined softly. Then I tangled my tongue with hers again, guiding her to a slower motion until she was no longer clumsy and was gaining more confidence.
Finally, the driver parked at the front of the hotel that was just a few minutes away from town, where I booked a suite. We were guided to the entrance with care, and the bellboy took us eagerly to the elevator and gave us the key card to the penthouse suite. I tipped him well until he left me and Rachel alone in the elevator, where I lavished her with more kisses and just reveled in her taste. She was a mixture of the champagne she drank and the chocolate strawberries, and along with her feminine taste, it was intoxicating and had me craving for more.
When the elevator finally dinged open to the top floor, I picked her up and carried her bridal style into our place. She yelped and laughed, wrapping her arms around me. We both looked around in awe, and Rachel ooh’d and aah’d over how elegant and huge the place was. I noted down the huge couch and the high-tech fireplace beside it, wanting to use it sometime before we checked out—hell, I wanted to make love with her right on that rug in front of the fireplace.
But first things first, I carried her to the bedroom.
It was just as huge and spacious as the living room, and there was a master bed in the middle with the fluffiest-looking covers. Rachel laughed as I almost stumbled on a chair in my rush, and I laughed in return as I deposited her on the bed. She crawled on her back to the center, then rose up on her knees and watched me with glazed, hungry eyes.
“If you keep looking at me like that…” I warned again, just like earlier. Then the words completely died from my throat when her hands reached at her back and fumbled. “Rachel?”
“Shhh,” she murmured.
I watched, speechless with disbelief, as she slid her dress down from her shoulders, revealing what she was wearing underneath—a lace strapless bra that was the same color as her skin. This was the first time I’d seen this much skin from her, and the creamy sight had blood rushing down my body. She took her time, sliding the lace from her arms, then down to reveal a flat stomach. Frozen in place, speechless, I could only keep watching as she wiggled and finally stepped out of her train, revealing slim, creamy legs and hips that flared out. She was wearing matching nude-colored panties, with garters holding lace stockings up.
She carefully placed the dress to the side, then turned to face me expectantly. With her kneeling like that, wearing only her underwear and her high heels, all I could do was not stagger and stumble as desire shot me in the spine and attacked me everywhere. The blood that rushed to my body ran down my groin, and I was hard and aching just for her.
Finally, I found my voice.
“You’re beautiful,” I said, gruffly.
She blushed at the compliment, but her gaze didn’t waver. “Come here,” she whispered.
I detected the nerves in her voice, which belied her confident expression and made me realize she was putting on a show—for me.
It was what stopped me from ravishing her right then and there. Instead, I took my time eyeing her over and over again before I finally strode over to where she was, keeping my steps slow. I put one knee on the bed, our faces inches away from each other. Her warm breath touched mine, and I placed kisses on her mouth—soft, undemanding kisses, wanting to tell her that there was no need to rush. I wanted to make her feel safe, and if that meant putting her needs first, then I was all for it.
She leaned into the kiss and into me, and I placed my second knee on the bed and pressed lightly against her. Her hands moved, wrapping around me, before they slid across my tuxedo and began unbuttoning my coat. She removed it quickly, then eagerly started unbuttoning my dress shirt and removing that, too. Her hands ran all over my chest, heating me up when she murmured how hard it was.
Oh, just wait until she found out what else was hard.
When her hands began to unbutton my pants, I finally put a stop to her ministrations, knowing my control was already frayed and it wouldn’t take much to snap it completely. I placed her hands on my waist and cruised my mouth down her chin, then her throat, where her taste was more concentrated. I left love bites everywhere, feeling so possessive but wanting to somehow mark my territory. She didn’t seem to mind, and Rachel’s moans increased the more I kissed her.
When I pulled her closer again, I could feel her stiffened nipples against my chest and underneath her bra. Suddenly I wanted to see them, wanted them out of their confines. I eased her back until she was lying on her back. Then I k
ept kissing her, at the same time unclasping the back of her bra and sliding the lace off her. When I broke the kiss to look down, I was treated to the sight of plump breasts that were perky and just slightly larger than my hands, capped with the rosiest nipples. I groaned at the sight and slid my hand up, cupping one in my hand to weigh it. She felt heavy and full, and I leaned down to kiss her again as I played with her globes. My thumbs brushed her nipples over and over as I slid my tongue down her throat again, trailing lower and lower until I could feel her writhing against me. Without a word, I knew what she wanted, and I didn’t want to disappoint her.
I teased her first by going over where she wanted my mouth the most until she whimpered again. Then, chuckling at her impatience, I finally captured one stiffened nipple in my mouth, using my tongue to lick. Then I sucked, and I felt it pucker harder as I repeated the motion, then transferred my attention to her other breast. I was drunk in her taste. Rachel’s hands slid through my hair and held on as she moaned out her pleasure, moaned out my name, and I knew it was even better for her.
While my mouth was busy with her breasts, my hands started moving downward, touching her stockings before tracing a path up her garters. I brushed a finger against her underwear-covered core, feeling her legs tighten around my arm. I sucked on her nipples harder until she slowly eased her legs open for me, then began to trace my mouth downward to her stomach.
Rachel was writhing faster now, lost in her own world and the pleasure I was giving her. I slid her panties down and exposed her glistening pink center, my mouth watering at the sight. My mouth trailed further down until it was inches away from where she was throbbing.
She was surprised at first, telling me in a soft, aroused voice that I shouldn’t—not because she didn’t want me to, but because she just wanted me to enjoy myself. But what she didn’t understand was that this was something I was going to enjoy really, really well. So I ignored her protests and went ahead, placing my kisses there before delving my tongue in. She was slick and wet—and above all, so tight that I couldn’t resist sliding a finger in together with my tongue. Her tight channel sucked me in, and I groaned at her taste and at the image of that tightness around my cock. Ignoring my lustful thoughts, I concentrated on her pleasure, changing my ministrations from licking to sucking and thrusting my finger in slow, repeated motions. She responded minimally at first, but the pleasure eventually sucked her in and had her green eyes blurring with the intense feeling. Slow became fast, and soon I was plunging two fingers inside her as Rachel exclaimed how good it felt.
“You’re so hot, Rachel,” I murmured. “You’re so tight…”
“I want…” she responded, her words trailing off. “Peter, please…”
Her pleading shook something inside my core, and suddenly I was ready to do whatever she wanted. Rachel didn’t speak anymore, unable to form the words, but I knew what she needed. I kept at it, finding myself immersed in the act. When she was moaning louder now and already on that edge, I searched for her pleasure point and placed my thumb there, flicking softly before pressing it with the flat part of my tongue.
The reaction was instantaneous. I felt Rachel’s body buck underneath me, her hands clutching at my hair. Then she exploded before me, her cries surrounding the air and her body vibrating as she rode wave after wave. I kept my finger in, feeling her pulse intensely against it, and I used my tongue to prolong her orgasm and give her an out of body experience. Then I eased out of her slowly, my body surging up to cover hers. Rachel’s body was loose and languid now, but she didn’t hesitate in pulling me down to latch on to my mouth. We shared wet, open-mouthed kisses that took the need higher, and after a while I felt her hum and moan again.
My cock was throbbing with so much desire now, and I knew it wanted out of its confines. As if she heard my thoughts, Rachel’s fingers drifted down, playing with my buttons before unbuttoning it. Then she slid my zipper down and slid her dainty hand inside, cupping my pulsing erection and making my head swim.
And that was when my phone chose to ring.
It started dimly at first that I thought it was just my head ringing with the pleasure of Rachel slowly exploring me. Her hand was fantastic and I could feel her hot skin, even if I was still wearing my underwear. But the dim sound of ringing increased until I realized that it wasn’t just in my head.
I could have ignored it. Rachel certainly did as she slid her hand up and down, rubbing me playfully and making me groan. I could have ignored it to hell and back and just kept letting Rachel touch me, but some instinct told me that I was going to regret it. Gritting my teeth, calling myself stupid names in my head, I did the most difficult thing I had to do—I pulled back from her and went to get my phone from my pocket, glancing at the caller ID and tensing instantly.
I answered.
“Hello?”
“Bartlett. Pleasant night.”
Surprise filled me at the sound of the voice. It wasn’t Colonel Jameson, but the head of another unit.
“Pleasant night.” Though it was the furthest thing from pleasant for me. “What’s up?”
He briefed me with codes, and I listened. After a few seconds, I hung up, still reeling from the news and the instruction. I looked at Rachel, who had now sat up and was looking at me with worry. Something must have showed on my face for her to have that kind of reaction.
But there was no stopping it, because apparently, my boss had gotten in trouble on his mission tonight and was now in enemy hands. He needed to be rescued—and he needed to be rescued by the best.
I kept staring at Rachel, regret filling me. At the same time, I knew I couldn’t abandon my boss and my orders. I tried to find the words to explain it to her without revealing too much, wondering if she would be as mad as Evelyn had been—probably more, because I was abandoning her on our wedding night.
“My boss…the one who attended the wedding but didn’t attend the reception?”
Rachel nodded, waiting.
“He went on a mission. He’s in trouble. I need to save him.”
I braced myself for the tears—again, for the possible anger and yelling that I’d gotten accustomed to in the past.
Shock filled me and had me staggering when Rachel launched herself in my arms—only it wasn’t to hit me but to wrap her arms around me and press her body closer. There was nothing sexual about this hug despite her body being naked—instead, it was warm and comforting, and I realized what she was trying to convey.
“Of course, you do,” she murmured, kissing my neck. “Go. Before it’s too late.”
I eased her back and gazed into her eyes, finding nothing but concern and sincerity. She was being serious. She was being…supportive.
Damn it. I had to be the luckiest bastard in the world.
I let my eyes roam her body one more time, memorizing it in my mind. Then I stood up and pulled her with me, and we hurriedly dressed up in the civilian clothes we took with us. We both took the taxi home, where I dropped her off and took my car to get it ready to drive to headquarters. But before I drove off, I gave her the longest kiss, a silent message that I would be back and we would continue off to where we started.
“Stay safe,” Rachel murmured. “Isla and I will be waiting.”
As I drove off, I knew that I had a lot of making up to do, and I intended to pleasure her again and again and do so.
But for now, I needed to save my boss.
Rachel
A week after the wedding, I was beside myself trying not to think too much about Peter and trying not to worry about him.
To distract myself, I kept to my duty as a housewife and stepmom to Isla. The doctor had already taken a look at her leg and declared that she needed a week more in her cast before they took it off completely, which Isla was positive and cheerful about. Her cast was already a colorful beacon on her leg, as she had friends and family sign it and color it to pretty it up.
When we got home, Isla looked for things to do and decided to finish her art project
. I helped her out, but it was clear she was determined to finish it on her own, so I left her to her own devices. There was nothing much to do once my household chores were done, so I ended up baking cakes and brownies again, with Isla taking a break from her project from time to time to watch me. The smell of baking wafted in the air and gave a pleasant, calming atmosphere, and when all was done, I let the finished products rest on a cooling rack and found something else to do: redecorating.
After the wedding, I found out that I actually liked taking things apart and recreating them to make them more beautiful. This was what I did to my wedding, and I enjoyed mixing minds with my wedding planner until we came up with that beautiful setup and ceremony.
I did this to Isla’s room the first few days after the wedding, too. Isla mentioned that she wanted to change her room to another color, and when I asked what she wanted, all she said was to surprise her. So I did, taking out her stuff first before painting the walls white with her help. Then we painted the edges lavender, let it set, and rearranged her furniture inside to make everything look more spacious. The end result was a brighter, cleaner room with sparkly touches, and Isla loved it so much that she declared it her “fairy” room and herself the fairy princess. It fueled her imagination and had her writing down her own version of fairy tale stories, another interest that was taking up her time as she still was on break from ballet.
I didn’t touch the master bedroom, though that was where I slept whenever I missed Peter—and I missed him a lot. The room smelled of him, but a few days in and my subtle scent also filled the room. I often burrowed myself in the sheets and got myself acquainted with the place, though it felt half-empty without Peter in it. I guess I’d gotten used to his presence, especially during the last few weeks before our wedding when we spent so much time together.