The tingling intensified. He broke off the kiss and said, “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” His mouth was at my neck, nibbling tiny love bites.
“You tell really sweet lies,” I said, “but don’t stop.” To accelerate like this from despair to heaven was almost too much for me. But I wasn’t going to question my astounding good fortune.
“I’ll be going into the clinic tomorrow.” His voice was low, husky, and already dark with his hunger for me.
“I know,” I said, stroking his cheek, feeling his body pressing urgently against mine, pressing my body urgently right back.
“I won’t be able to see you again like this for five days.”
I didn‘t want to think about being apart from him. I only wanted to think about having his body fill the empty aching spot in mine. “Then we should make the most of the time we have.”
He scooped me up and carried me into the bedroom. “If you don’t want to do this, tell me now,” he said, his voice husky.
“Just exactly what is it you have in mind?” Why I was playing coy, I couldn’t imagine. I guess I couldn’t believe this was really happening.
For an answer, he came down on top of me. And right on cue, his nose started leaking. He cursed and rolled off the bed to grab for a tissue. Looming above me like some angry god, he said, “Now do you see why I’ve been pushing you away?”
“Because of a little fluid? There’s a simple solution to that. You be on the bottom.” I stood up and began to unbutton his shirt. I’d seen in the movies where a woman could run her hands over a man’s back while she was undressing him, but I wasn’t sure how to do it, and besides I didn’t want to take the time. His pants dropped easily around his slim hips. I’d forgotten about his shoes, novice that I am, but he sat down on the bed and made short work of them. Socks and briefs flew on top of the pants.
I knew his face was beautiful. His body was superb, hard belly, long lean legs. I stood looking at him, knowing that this moment, this first time would never come again. I turned around. “There are hooks in the back of my dress. Three of them.” I hadn’t worn a bra because the dress had one built in. Justin expertly pulled my dress and my panties down at the same time. My wedge shoes went with the clothes. I bent over to pull the coverlet back because I knew I had to be careful not to leave a telltale stain. I felt Justin’s lips on my rear and nearly fell over. He kissed first one cheek and then the other and sent shivers everywhere. Could I really do this? Could I make him believe I’d had sex before this?
I’d give it my best shot. He turned around and lay down. Oh, my. He was even more beautiful all spread out for me to see. I crawled on top of him, hoping I’d gotten enough gossip from my fellow nurses to see me through this. Most of them said they started out by petting. I figured I was way too far into this for petting. I lay on top of him, sort of like a lump of dough. Man, I wish I’d read more romance books.
“Sweets?”
I leaned on my arms to raise up and look at him. “Yes?”
“Just stay like that for a minute.” He brought his hands up and covered my breasts. I had no idea it could feel so good to have a man clasp my breasts. I swallowed hard and lifted my head and stretched back, instinctively knowing how to enhance the pleasure. He leaned forward and suckled me, first one and then the other. If I thought I was experiencing pleasure before, this was much more. It felt strange…and oh so wonderful.
He lay back down and said, “I’ve wanted to do that since the first night on the boat when you leaned back on the railing and displayed your wares so tantalizingly to me.”
“And I’ve wanted you to do that since ninth grade chem class.”
“That long? How old were you then?”
“Fourteen.”
“You little hussy. Rub them against me. Let me feel you moving on me.”
I obliged, thinking that if he was getting pleasure out of this, we were in this together.
His erection was hard, so hard against my belly. I wanted to touch him, but I was afraid of looking like a fool or worse, hurting him. But I slipped my hand between our bodies and clasped my fingers around him, all the while singing in my mind, this is Justin. This is the man I have loved forever. I made a movement to bring him into me, but he stayed my hand. “Best see if you’re ready, love.”
He meant to put his fingers inside me. I couldn’t let him do that. He’d know I’d never had sex with anyone before. And if he found out before he entered me, it would be all over.
“Trust me, I’m ready.” I guided him into me and then raised up and came down on him. It was more of a pull than a pain. He could feel the resistance, but before he could react, it was too late. I was controlling the action, moving myself up and down over him. I was afraid he would try to pull out, but he didn’t. He was too far into the throes of sex to think of ending it.
“Damn you,” he cursed under his breath.
“I most likely will be,” I said. I went on relentlessly moving, knowing I probably wouldn’t climax but knowing that he was very close. I found myself clenching him and moving, moving, moving. Then he stiffened and cried out and I went on moving until I was sure his climax was over. Then I eased down on top of him, exhausted, mostly from the fear and tension of trying to disguise my virgin condition from him.
He sort of tossed me off of him and went into the bathroom. I heard water running. Then he came back out and in the darkened room I couldn’t see the expression on his face. He lay down beside me and pulled my face to his. “Well, we did it your way. Now we’re doing it my way. Which is something we would have done if you’d had the courage to tell me the truth about yourself.”
He crawled on top of me and even though I protested, he shook his head. First he cleansed me with a wet towel from the bathroom. The towel got tossed. He put a hand on my breast and the other on my pubic bone. He massaged me with the heel of his hand, warming me. The other hand flicked my nipple until I wanted to cry out with pleasure. Now his finger was inside me bringing indescribable sensations. He found the nub he knew was there, and he made it his own. He played with it, massaging it, catching it in his two fingers.
I felt restless, wanton, and eager for more. He plunged those marauding fingers further inside me, finding a spot that was so sensitive that I writhed and cried out with the intense pleasure of it. The moment I did so, he withdrew his hand and then, oh dear heaven, he bent his head.
I felt the brush of his hair on my bare belly as he explored my inner depths with his tongue. I writhed on the bed, wanting to be released from the exquisite torture and at the same time, wanting it to go on forever. I tried to free my hands and pull his head up but he had my both my wrists manacled in his grip, one on each side of my hips. When I moaned and said, “Please stop, Justin,” he raised his head and said, “Oh, no, baby. You deserve this, my charming little virgin.”
It was supreme agony to be at his mercy this way, agony that was so incredibly exciting I thought I might just die. He tightened his grip on my wrists and applied his mouth to every part of me, starting with my breasts, trailing down to my navel and then to my core. He sucked and licked and then I felt it, that overwhelming sense that my body was a mass of sizzling pleasure. He raised his head and looked down at me and there was complete male triumph in his eyes, a triumph that made me glad to the bottom of my soul.
This was the Justin I wanted him to be, sure of himself. “Now, I think, you might be ready.” He entered me, and I went higher, moaning to hold back my scream of ecstasy. He moved inside me, thrusting and thrusting and I knew then that I was completely his, that this was what I’d longed for so many years, a world where Justin and I were joined in the age old way of lovers. His own climax caught him and we were no longer two people but one entity caught in the ultimate ecstasy.
“And that,” he said, as he rolled off me onto his back, “is what a woman’s first time should be.”
Chapter 8
He might pass this off as an experiment in making my first time
earth-shaking, but I’d seen his eyes when he was inside me. He wanted me as much as I wanted him. I could feel his body on the side of mine, long, lean and muscled. Experimentally, I eased my leg over on top of his, wanting to maintain that closeness. As if he understood, he laid a hand on my belly. But then he said in this cool tone, “I assume you’re on birth control pills for period regulation or something. I know a knowledgeable nurse like yourself would never have intercourse with a man without some kind of protection.”
How clinical he sounded. Of course, I wasn’t on birth control pills. Before him, I had no sex life…heck, I had no life. As for period regulation, you could set your calendar by me. The only saving grace was that I was in that tiny window of time that was supposed to be safe. “All taken care of,” I murmured in what I hoped was my sexiest voice. There was a pharmacy in the hotel. I’d go down and buy birth control pills as soon as I could. But Justin didn’t need to know any of this.
Moving like that sleek animal he was, he got out of bed and stood at the side, extending his hand to me. “I need a shower. How about you?”
The tingles started all over again. I was going to shower with him? What a glorious day this turned out to be.
Water came gushing out of the rain head shower. He helped me step in and then, with water pouring over both of us, he took the soap and lathered up his hands. While I stood watching his blond hair darken from the water, he began to lave my shoulders. His eyes never leaving mine, he cupped my breasts, rubbing them up and down, leaving them covered with soap bubbles and me with a rising hunger. He continued on, gently washing that part of me he now knew so well. His hands moved down my legs until he knelt at my feet. When he came up, he smiled at me. “All clean. Now it’s your turn.
I tried to take the soap from him and between us, I dropped it. He knelt to pick it up. I thought I had completely broken the moment, but he put the soap on my mound and made circular movements that had me even more aroused. Then he took my hand and put it over his. The soap fell away and he guided my hand into my vagina. His fingers tangled with mine as he moved my fingers with his own to bring me to another shuddering climax. I shattered completely and could only grasp his shoulder and try to contain the spasms within my body. This was such complete and utter intimacy. I hadn’t imagined such a sense of becoming one with him was possible.
When my storm was over, he reached down for the soap. “Your turn,” he said. I took my time, soaping every part of his wonderful body, learning the muscle and sinew with my fingers. I discovered something no book had told me. His nipples were sensitive, too. As I soaped and played with them, heightening my own pleasure, I could tell that he was enjoying it as much as I was. There were blond hairs on his chest, blond hairs on his legs and blond hairs on his groin. I soaped his penis and as it started to come to life, I dropped the soap and began to massage him. When I had him fully aroused, I cupped my hands with fresh water and tossed it at him. He laughed and grasped my buttocks to lift me. “Now my fine lady, for that splash of water I shall take my retribution.” He’d gone all British upper class on me.
“Will I like it?” I asked playfully.
“Oh, yeah,” he promised in his good old American voice.
While I grabbed his shoulders and wrapped my legs around his hips to steady myself, he entered me. By now I was so used to being stimulated that I gloried in his repeated thrusting in and out. I wanted more, more, harder, deeper. I told him so and he complied most willingly. I thought I might just die there with the water pouring over us and Justin inside me murmuring my name. I could feel him coming and I gave myself up to heaven.
Outside the shower, he toweled me off and I returned the favor. I reached for the hotel robe that hung on the door but he caught my hand.
“You don’t need that.” Totally naked, he strode out of the bathroom. I followed and watched him circle around my living room where he collected the fruit basket with its myriad selection of fruit and cookies and the champagne that lay on top.
In the bedroom, he plopped the fruit basket in the middle of the bed. “Come here, Anne Wentworth. I dare you.” All skin and sinew, looking like the most lascivious man on earth or perhaps a satyr with no good on his mind, he sprawled out on the bed with every bit of his luscious body on display and plucked up a peach to take a big juicy bite.
“Come here, Anne. Now.” Of course, he knew this would scare me to death. I could do sex naked, but blithely sitting on a bed and eating without any clothes on in broad daylight was taking my sexual experience way too high up the ladder. But I’d be darned if I’d chicken out. I came over to the basket, leaned over a bit to give him the full effect of my over-sized breasts and took my time before I picked up a beautiful rosy peach. Then I sat down cross legged in front of him, exposing the other half of my feminine charms.
He shook his head in amazed acknowledgement of defeat. “I should know better than to challenge you.”
“Yes,” I said, “you should. So now I need to know what two total hedonists talk about during their orgy.”
“Not a clue,” he said. “Do you think I’ve ever done any of this shit before?”
“Ah,” I said. “So this is your first time with fruit. A fruit virgin.”
He laughed. I loved to hear him laugh. “Something like that.” He took a bite of his peach and looked thoughtful. “You know you’re right. I’ve never done this with a woman before.”
That news delighted me. “I have despoiled you.”
“Wanton woman.”
I loved the sound of that. “Just another of my lusty ways to ruin you forever.”
“Your lusty ways? I’d wager everything I’ve got that you’ve never done this before with a man.”
He was so sure of himself that I said airily, “You only think you know.”
“I know. Because no man could ever see you like this with that red hair flowing over your shoulders and that beautiful body and not want to take you where you sat…and own you for the rest of his life.”
“Do you want to take me where I sit?”
“Of course I do. But I need recovery time. We’re going to keep the conversation in proper channels and talk about the Romans sprawled on their couches eating grapes, and how they deplored the burning of Rome, and wasn’t Nero a complete nudnik?“
The last thing I wanted to talk about was the burning of Rome. I took a bite of the peach, disappointed that the talk had veered away from sex. Having been on starvation rations so long, I was on a fair way to becoming a sex fiend. “Nudnik. How does that translate in Latin?”
“Idiota is probably about as close as you can come. Although not strictly the same. Nudnik implies being a boring pest.”
I put my peach down and stared at him. “Don’t tell me you took Latin from Mr. Greer.”
“Hunter made me do it. He said I’d need it to decipher legal contracts.
“I never saw you in class.”
“I was never there,” he said, in that true Cameron know-it-all fashion. “I read the material, memorized it and came in and took the test. Did you go and sit in the class like the responsible person you are?”
“I don’t understand why you keep harping on that. And yes, I sat in class for three years. Nurse, remember?” It was my turn to eat and think. “I suppose there was a lot of juicy gossip in the Roman court to talk about,” and as peach juice dripped down from my mouth, “no pun intended.”
Justin leaned forward and licked my mouth and chin. “Mm, delicious. Peach a la woman. I wonder how this would taste.” He leaned forward, rubbed his peach on the tip of my breast and licked. I felt the slight roughness of his tongue, the sensual pleasure bombarding me with sexual hunger. It was such an onslaught on my already super sensitive skin that I shivered. But I was not to be outdone. I would have my revenge. I took my peach and rubbed the tip of his penis with it. He came up off the bed as if I had shot him. “Anne…” There was a dark warning in his voice that thrilled me.
I leaned forward and licked him thor
oughly until he was hard and ready. Watching his face, seeing that lovely tortured look that told me he wanted to tell me to stop but couldn’t, thrilled me to the core. I was even more thrilled when I crawled over him and tucked him inside my body and he made no protest. He was hard as a rock again. What was he going to do, say stop? I leaned down and kissed his mouth. Both our lips were sticky with peach juice. Now I knew exactly how to move, how to clench my muscles, how to raise up high enough so he was almost completely out of me and then plunge down suddenly, making him moan with pleasure. I gloried in the power that I had over him, power that he gave me. I swiveled like a belly dancer, intensifying his pleasure. Sensitized by all the love making we’d done before, we both came quickly. I collapsed on him, thoroughly spent. Justin’s eyes were closed. I nestled my head in his shoulder and lay there, somnolent.
I don’t know how long we stayed like that. I was nearly asleep when he moved as if trying to get out from under me. I raised up and rolled over, freeing him.
On his side, he took my chin in his hand. I didn’t like the look on his face. It was far too serious, almost somber. I had the weirdest feeling that if he could, he would wipe this entire idyllic afternoon from his mind. “Anne, you won’t… take any of this seriously. This is just two adults having fun on a tropical island far away from home.”
He might as well tossed a bucket of cold water over me. The peach tasted bitter in my mouth. “Why should I take anything seriously?”
“Because you’re a serious kind of woman.”
“Gee, thanks very much. That sounds like I wear rubber galoshes and have three cats.” This conversation was headed down a dead end road into a deep ravine.
“I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant…it’s obvious you’ve never been one to play around. I thought…if you wanted me to…break the ice, so to speak, I could do that for you because we’re friends.”
Wooing Justin: The Cameron Family Saga, Book Two Page 6