Virgin

by Gadziala, Jessica

  Seeming to feel me relax into him, his hands moved again, flattening over the tops of my thighs, sliding down. The thin skirt material was a pathetic border. I could even feel the heat of his hand searing through as his hands kept sliding downward. At my knee, his hands started scrunching up the material, making it glide deliciously over freshly shaven skin until it was all in his palms.

  His thumb held the material up as his hand flattened again, this time on the bare skin above my knee, the sensation soothing and exciting somehow at the same time.

  Virgin's palms were rough from years of working with his hands, oddly smooth in other spots - scars from his enforcing days.

  My head turned, resting just inward of his clavicle, as his hands slid up higher, teasing near the smooth skin of my inner thigh.

  "Wait." I hadn't even known I was going to say anything until the word was out of my mouth. It didn't even sound like me, quiet, airy.

  His hands froze but didn't move away.

  Waiting.

  Like I asked.

  "Yeah?" he asked, his head shifting, his lips pressing a sweet kiss to my temple.

  "What's your name? Your real name," I clarified.

  Virgin paused, seemingly hesitant. I wanted to say never mind, that it wasn't a big deal. But, in the moment, it felt like a big deal. I felt like it was impossible to go this step with a man whose name I didn't know.

  But before I could feel worry that we might be at an impasse, he spoke, voice low and rumbling, a sexy sound that shivered across my skin.

  "Ty," he told me, sounding like he was telling me a secret. "Tycen, but... Ty."

  "Ty," I rolled the name around, finding I liked it more than his road name, that I liked the honesty of it, the privateness of being privy to it.

  A low, rumbling, almost... growling sound moved through Ty's chest at me saying his name.

  "We un-paused now?" he asked, voice rough, a little impatient, needy.

  Even as I thought that, I could feel his hardness pressing against me, as desperate as the throbbing, aching need between my thighs.

  "Yes."

  The word wasn't even fully out of my mouth before his hand shot upward, pressing hard over the panties between my thighs. My one arm flailed, looking for something to hold onto. Finding nothing, it moved upward, winding around the back of his neck.

  "Soaked for me already," he rumbled, his one finger sliding upward, pressing into my clit, sending a shock of unexpected pleasure through my system.

  Suddenly impatient, his hand slid up slightly, snagging my panties, dragging them downward hard enough that I heard a tear before they were free of my ass, and slid harmlessly down my thighs, legs. I stepped out of them on instinct just a second before I felt Ty's hand on my bare skin, tracing up my cleft, pressing into my clit without the barrier, something that seemed to steal all the strength out of my leg muscles.

  Ty's other arm went across my belly, anchoring me to him as he worked my clit in achingly, torturously slow circles, driving my body up toward something it had only experienced from my own hands that, it seemed, were not as adequate because they never brought the havoc on my body like Ty's did.

  My chest, already tight, got tighter. My breasts felt heavy. My nipples hardened enough that the brush of my bra sent off sizzles of need. The pressure on my lower stomach was impossible to ignore, demanding more, everything.

  My hips rocked, trying to get there faster, trying to make him give me immediate relief from the clawing need growing stronger with each passing second.

  "Ty, please," I begged, my nails digging crescents into the side of his neck, ones that would likely bruise, leave marks, something that seemed to excite me all the more. Marking him. Letting everyone know I had been there, that we had shared something.

  At the sound of my pleading, Ty's hands moved suddenly, sinking into my hips, turning me, lifting me up off my feet, planting me up on the counter as he lowered down, burying his face between my thighs before my mind could even wrap itself around what his intentions were.

  His hands planted on my thighs, holding them wide for him as his tongue slid up my cleft, finding my clit, circling it again but faster, harder, more demanding, driving me up harder, faster.

  One arm rose above me, grabbing the cupboard, sure I was about to fall off the counter. The other slapped down on the back of Ty's neck, holding him to me though he showed no signs of planning to pull away.

  I could feel my muscles tightening, my breath catching, my body pushed to the edge before his lips closed around my clit, sucking hard, pushing me that one last bit, sending me flying, falling, crashing through the orgasm.

  Teeth nipped my inner thigh.

  That was what seemed to bring me back into my body, looking down with half opened eyes to watch as Ty kissed down my thigh slowly before getting back onto his feet, moving his whole body into the space between my spread legs, both hands going up, framing the sides of my head as his lips pressed down on mine.

  Not hard and demanding.

  Soft, sweet, coaxing, seeming to sense my need to slowly ease back after an orgasm that had felt like it had torn me apart for a long moment.

  My arms rose, wrapped around his back, held him to me as my lips demanded more.

  I wasn't sure how long we stayed like that, only that my lips tingled when he finally pulled away, his hands sliding down my back, over my thighs, grabbing me under the thighs, wrapping my legs around his lower back.

  My legs tightened, holding on as he moved a few steps backward, his hands moving back up my thighs to cup my ass, holding me against him as he turned, walking out of the kitchen, making his way down the hall I had emerged from hours earlier.

  Only hours.

  It felt like a lifetime.

  That was, after all, what we had shared with each other since then. Every soaring high and crushing low. Every scar and wound. Every hope, every crushed dream. Every secret and public shame.

  I felt I knew Ty better than I had ever known Tanner, better than I knew my own brothers in a way. You protected your family from things, from your unattractive parts, not wanting them to see those parts of you, to think of you differently because of them, wanting their love always to be pure, pretty. And, well, no person was pure and pretty. We all had dirt, all had ugly.

  I had Ty's dirt and his ugly.

  He had mine.

  He suddenly didn't feel like a guy I had just met a week or so before.

  A low, surprised laugh escaped him, making me pull back, look down at him.

  "This is a fuckuva lot of pink, babe," he informed me, making me cast a look around at the space I had never given too much thought to before. I figured this, being his only guest room, was likely where Jelena spent a lot of her time before I showed up. And Thad had likely painted it bright pink to suit her. And bought her pink sheets. And a pink and purple comforter.

  "I barely noticed," I admitted, squinting a bit at the garishness of it all.

  "I'm bringing sheets next time," he declared, dropping his ass down on my bed with me still straddling him.

  Next time.

  That didn't exactly escape me.

  It was my last real remaining worry.

  The idea of a one-night-stand. In getting attached because he was the first man who had put hands on me in a decade, because he gave my body what it needed. And then having him want nothing to do with me once he got a taste.

  "And maybe sunglasses," he added, hands squeezing my ass playfully.

  Feeling oddly charmed by the lightness, the familiarity of the moment, I felt oddly emboldened, planting my hands on his chest for balance as I slid off his lap, dropping down onto my knees between his spread legs.

  My gaze found his as my hands planted on his thighs, slowly moved upward, finding the button of his pants, then the zip, working them free, watching as his eyes went hooded with need.

  Taking a steadying breath, hoping that enthusiasm made up for a lack of experience, my hands reached for the tight boxer briefs
beneath, slipping them down, freeing his cock, finding it every bit as intimidating as I figured it might be, but feeling nothing but a thrill inside as my hand closed around him, stroking him to the hilt before leaning forward, tracing my tongue around his head before closing my lips around him, sucking him into my mouth.

  A hiss burst from him as I worked him as deep as I could, his hand slamming down on the back of my neck, holding me, but letting me set the pace, letting me find our rhythm.

  His hand got tighter and tighter, crushing in, likely leaving bruises that would be hard to explain except for with the truth.

  But before I could drive him through an orgasm like he had given me, his hand slipped into my hair, tugging, pulling back until his cock left my mouth with a little pop, making my eyes shoot upward, finding his jaw tense, his breathing ragged.

  Close.

  He had been so close.

  But he wasn't going to let me have the satisfaction of giving a selfless orgasm. At least not this time.

  "Stand up," he demanded, voice somehow soft, yet brooking no argument at the same time, making my legs curl under me and move upward without me seeming to give them the demand to do so.

  His hands snagged my hem again, slowly dragging it upward, having to lift off the bed slightly to pull it over my shoulders, up my arms, over my head, tossing it to the ground behind me.

  I was suddenly very aware of my lack of panties, at only my bra hiding a part of me from view.

  His hands went behind my back, sliding upward, grabbing the clasps of my bra.

  Insecurity was a sudden, almost forgotten thing. My body had been nothing but a vehicle for so long that the idea of someone else seeing, touching, judging it was foreign, but strong, visceral, an uncomfortable fist closing around my belly.

  The clasp tightened, then released, the bra straps slipping down my arms.

  "Come here," he demanded, grabbing my wrist, pulling me forward. Sensing my hesitation, or simply wanting me closer, I wasn't sure. But he pulled me back onto his lap, his hand discarding my bra before, unexpectedly, his arms raised to his sides, inviting me to free him to my view.

  Greediness overtook me, crushing down my insecurity with curiosity.

  My hands slid down his sides, already feeling the muscles beneath, moving down to slip inward, find his bottom button, working my way slowly upward, eating up the view of each sliver of skin as it got exposed until there was a gap all the way up. I planted my hands at his shoulders, pushing the material wide to slide down his arms.

  I knew, of course, that he was well-built.

  But knowing it and seeing it were two very different things.

  His skin pulled tight over muscles you could sink a finger between. He wasn't flawless. Pink and off-white scars marred his chest, his arms. There was one particularly long, deep one that seemed to go straight up his stomach. But somehow, I found the flaws all the more attractive, little testaments to the life he had lived, the experiences that had shaped him into the man he grew to be.

  My finger moved to trace down the largest scar.

  "Knife," he declared quietly as I watched in fascination as his muscles contracted under my touch.

  "Ouch."

  "Mmhm," he agreed, his hand moving up my side, sliding over my ribs carefully - so, it seemed, as not to tickle me, then moving inward, covering my admittedly less than a handful breast, his thumb moving out to stroke over the hardened peak in a way that made all thoughts of things such as insecurity scramble out of my brain.

  "This one?" I asked, touching one that slipped across his left pectoral muscle.

  "Piece of pavement ripped me up during a fight."

  "And... oh," I whimpered as his thumb and forefinger grabbed my nipple, turning it in a delicious circle.

  A cocky, sexy smile pulled at his lips as his head ducked, sucking the other peak into his mouth, sucking hard enough to arch my back, trying to get more of the sensation as the need rekindled in my system. He worked one, then the other, before suddenly taking his feet, turning, tossing me down onto the bed, making me bounce with a small laugh before I noticed him kicking out of his shoes, then his pants.

  There was nothing to laugh about at seeing Ty standing there before me, naked, straining, looking down at me with hunger in his eyes.

  My breath caught for a moment as he lowered down, his face level with my belly, his lips pressing down into the skin, making goosebumps prickle up over me, working slowly upward, between my breasts, over the side of my neck.

  His arms slid up to rest at my sides, balancing some of his weight, then pressing the rest of it against me.

  This.

  This was what my body, mind, soul had been craving. Not just the orgasms, the touch, the scrape of skin, the sweat, the weight of a man pressing down on me.

  My legs folded around his lower back. My hands slid over his broad shoulders, down the slope of his back, pulling him more firmly against me, begging for more of him even as his lips found mine, his teeth nipping, his tongue seeking mine.

  Mindless with need, my hips thrust upward against him, demanding more, wanting an end to the hollowness deep inside, something only he could fill.

  "Hold on, baby girl, hold on. I need to get..." he started to tell me, trying to pull away as I dragged him closer, as I whimpered my protest.

  "Nightstand," I told him, my lips pressing into his neck as he turned to find the small pile Thad had left there for just this reason.

  If he was amused by their presence, by the idea that I had wanted and prepared for this moment, he didn't let on as he snagged a foil, nipping the edge with his teeth, then making short work of protecting us before his weight pressed into me once again.

  His lips came into mine as his hand went between us, stroking his cock up my cleft, rubbing against my clit for a moment before moving downward again, pressing.

  Pressing.

  My lips ripped from his, my eyes seeking his as the pressure became something a little uncomfortable, just a slight searing, a pinching as he pushed inside me. Just an inch or two, pausing, giving my body a minute to adjust to a foreign invasion, waiting, it seemed, until my need overtook my body's hesitation, until my hips shifted around impatiently.

  Another inch or two.

  The resistance, the pinching giving way to something else, something deep, aching in a more delicious way, wanting more, wanting everything.

  My nails raked down his back as my hips moved upward, taking him fully, demanding motion. Which he happily gave, slow and deliberate at first - just shy of careful, then building, harder, faster.

  "That's it," Ty growled, sinking in more roughly, deeply as my walls tightened around him. "Come for me, baby," he demanded.

  As if my body had been seeking permission all along, the orgasm slammed suddenly through me, dragging me down wave after wave, crying out his name, clinging with arms and legs as he worked me through it, dragged it out, before settling deep, coming with my name on his lips.

  I wasn't sure how long we stayed exactly like that. Long enough for the aftershocks to subside, for our breathing to settle, our heartbeats to return to normal.

  "Gotta let me up, babe," Ty told me, pushing against the mattress, pulling against my hold.

  With a grumble, my legs and arms fell away.

  A shiver coursed through me as the cool air met my heated skin while Ty got to his feet, turned, giving me the glorious view of his ass for a moment as he walked away, found my ridiculous guest kimono, wrapping it around his waist like a towel as he moved out into the hall.

  I heard the door close in the bathroom, scrambling up in the bed, sliding under the sheets, feeling suddenly insecure now that the heated part of the evening was over.

  I wasn't entirely sure how this would go once he came back. If he would grab for his clothes, quickly dress, get out of here as fast as he could.

  The idea made a hollow space open up in my belly.

  But as I heard footsteps in the hall again, I schooled my features into
something neutral - or so I hoped - before the door opened and he walked back in.

  He came to the side of the bed, but didn't reach down, seek his clothes. Instead, he dropped the kimono with the rest of the discarded clothes, grabbed the edge of the sheets, pulled them up, and slipped underneath with me.

  His arm moved around my back, curling me onto his chest, staying around me as an anchor as I allowed myself to sink into him.

  "So," he said a long moment later. "I'm not sure how long is an appropriate amount of time to let pass before asking this... but... those brownies..."

  Of all the ways I had maybe envisioned the events after sex for the first time in a decade, getting up to bake brownies in the nude, then climbing back into bed to eat them with Ty was not even in the realm of possibilities.

  But it ended up being the truth.

  And it was better than anything I could have chosen myself.

  Way better.

  NINE

  Virgin

  The list of things I hadn't done in life was maybe shorter than the one I had done.

  But, somehow, in one night with Freddie, I had managed to do several of the few things I had never experienced before.

  A real date.

  Telling someone my life story. No filters, no omissions, nothing to ease the often ugly parts of it, the bits that - admittedly - made me feel something completely foreign to me.

  Vulnerable.

  Then sex that wasn't exactly just sex.

  Sex had always been something base, something primal, something that required attention and skill, but nothing else. Certainly not feelings. But there was no denying that there were feelings involved when I was inside Freddie.

  After that, another first.

  I didn't immediately get dressed and leave.

  After that, yet another.

  I had a woman bake for me. Just for me.

  Then, finally, the last thing.

  After we ate almost a whole pan of brownies, I had scooted back down in bed, curled her back into my chest, and stayed.