One Month Later
THERE ARE NO lights, there is no pink. I don’t wear stockings, or a garter, or sexy panties. There is only me, in a tank top and cotton underwear, on hotel sheets, Jeremy’s temporary home until he finds a new one. And his body above mine, his shirt off, sweatpants low enough that I can see the V of his hips.
“Are you sure?” he whispers.
I reach a hand up, run it through the short tufts of his hair. Gently trace the line of his strong jaw, stubble beneath my fingers, his lips parting slightly when I reach their edges. The vulnerable look in his eyes giving me courage. I nod. Wrap my hand around the back of his head and pull him down, onto my mouth, his soft kiss gaining strength as my mouth opens, as he tastes my willingness and pushes further. Then his body moves, my legs spreading, wrapping, his weight taking its rightful place atop me, and he pushes forward slightly, into my body, hard pressure against me proving his need. He lifts his head, leaving the kiss, the rough scrape of his jaw moving lower, the soft trail of his mouth moving across my jaw, down my neck, his weight lifting off of me as his hands gather the bottom of my tank top and slide underneath. I close my eyes, relax my head against the pillow, and release a breath. Shudder as fingers slide up my body, hitting the curve of my breasts and sliding outward only to come together. Cup the weight of them in his hands gently as his mouth nudges lower, moves over the fabric of my thin tank, his mouth kissing them each in turn, sucking gently through the fabric, wet and hot, the sensation of the cloth and his mouth, his tongue, his teeth, causing my pelvis to tilt, hot need to shoot through me.
“Jeremy,” I beg. “I’m ready.”
“Soon.”
“Now.”
He slides down, between my legs, loops fingers under cotton, and drags my panties off, lifting my legs and dropping a quick kiss on the underside of my thigh, his eyes catching mine, a smile tugging at his lips. “God, you don’t know how long I’ve thought about this.”
“How long?”
“Too long to admit it here. It’d ruin the moment.”
I smile. “Creepy?”
“Creepy.” He throws my panties to the side, running strong fingers slowly down the length of my legs, his breath hot as he takes a small nip of my skin, his teeth causing me to shiver. Then he spreads them, moving back up the length of my body, in between my legs, coming to a stop above me, his eyes on mine. “I love you.”
I study the thick lashes, his eyes behind them open and trusting. “You shouldn’t.”
He lowers his mouth, brushes against my lips, taking his time with the kiss, his tongue soft and suggestive. “I do.”
“I love you too.”
He sits back, his eyes on mine, loosening the tie of his pants, the green glow of his stare darkening, my breath inhaling in one soft gasp when he pushes down the material and his cock pops out. Hard. Ready. Our soft kisses and sweet words had done nothing to pause his arousal. “You ready?”
“You don’t have to be gentle.” My body is already broken, penetration an old game my body has played too many times to make this special.
But he ignores me, his fingers testing me, taking a slow swipe down my legs, taking a measured draw over my pussy, swearing at the moisture there. I myself am surprised, still, at my body’s reaction to the heat of his touch. How much my cunt responds, body arches, a moan slipping from me when he does the simple action of pushing a finger in. I can’t think of anything but how much I want his cock, its hard stiff bob sticking straight out, bumping against my sex occasionally, the dark need in his eyes telling me that he knows. Knows exactly where his cock is. Exactly how far it is from my wet need. I reach a fast hand down, wrapping my fingers around his shaft, his eyes closing at the contact, his hips thrusting forward, the organ shocking in its warmth, unbendable yet alive in my hand. A drop of clear liquid appears at his tip, and I run a hesitant thumb over it, my name dropping from his lips at the movement of my hand, my fingers, his own hands dragging my shirt up, making a slow tour of my skin, his eyes still closed, tightly. “Let me get a condom,” he rasps, pulling his hips away, opening his eyes, raw want in their depths.
I resist, holding firm to him, the movement of his body causing my hand to jack his cock. “Keep it like this.” I have had enough latex in my life. This is my first moment with a man, the first chance that my body will have to experience a real cock, this incredible beating organ that twitches in my hand at the words.
“No.” He shakes his head, his eyes on mine. “I can’t. You…”
I move my hand, savor the slide of it over his skin, savor the way his eyelids get heavy, his mouth drops slightly open. “You can.” I push his cock down, rolling the swollen head against my sex, the wet slide of me against him causing his hips to rock slightly forward, a groan dropping from his mouth as he lowers himself down, his mouth suddenly on my neck, teasing and tasting the skin there before moving to my ear, the heat and static of speech against my ear. “I don’t know if I will be able to control myself…”
I take over, the virgin leading the man, making the decision for him, my legs wrapping around him, my hand pushing his shaft slightly down and I pull with my feet, moving my arms around his neck.
“Fuck me, Jeremy. Right now, I need a loss of control.”
And there, my arms wrapped around his neck, his cock taking the first real thrust my body has ever known, I release the final strings of my own control. Let myself fully fall in love with this man. Let every push of him draw a little more of my vulnerability out. He cradles my head in his hands, his breath ragged against my neck and lips, his mouth stealing rough kisses in between breathless words of love, my name a gasp on his lips when he gives a complete thrust, going all the way in, the full connection one that makes my back arch, the feeling greater than any I have ever known, better than my kills, better than my freedom. This is all I need. This is stronger than my affliction, my dark needs. This is what is important. This love might be my salvation.