Page 68 of I Saw Her First

His fingers find my center and he mutters a curse as I moan for him. He teases my entrance, sliding his fingers through my slickness and over my clit, and my body spasms as he swirls them there, watching my expression.

His fingers are wet with my arousal as he raises them to his mouth. “I can’t believe this is for me,” he whispers, licking his fingers clean.

Holy.Shit.

He returns to his task, pushing his fingers inside me, gently working me open for him, and I lie back on the bed, whimpering in pleasure, desperate for more.

“I need you,” I rasp.

“Do you have a condom?”

I nod, stifling a laugh at this, becauseyes, I am very prepared to lose it to Weston. Rifling through my bag on the floor, I pull out a box of condoms and a bottle of lube, setting them on the bed, but something occurs to me, and I turn back to Wes.

“I’ve never been with anyone,” I begin, and he nods.

“I know, babygirl.”

Fuck me. Hearing that word from his mouth gives me a full-body shiver.

I shake my head, trying to focus. “No, what I mean is… I’m on the pill.” I went on it a few months back, when I thought Jess and I were going to sleep together, but I’ll spare Wes that little detail. “And I was wondering, when did you last… I mean, have you, since…” I break off, embarrassed. What am I thinking, asking him that?

“Oh.” Realization dawns on Weston’s face, and he sits up. “I’ve only ever…” He clears his throat. “Lydia is the only woman I’ve ever been with.”

I stare at him, dumbfounded. He can’t be serious.

Wes takes my hand. “Lydia and I met when we were eighteen. After she died, the last thing I wanted to do was…” He shakes his head. “It’s only Lydia, and, if I’m lucky, you.”

My heart doesn’t know what to do with itself. Here I was thinkingIwas the one doing something big here, but it’s a first time of sorts for him, too.

“Oh, Wes.” I shuffle forward and brush my lips over his, cradling the back of his head. I have never known a more genuine, wonderful man. “Well, I was going to say, we could use a condom if you want, but if you’d prefer not to, that’s okay too.”

His eyes fall closed, his jaw tightening. “Christ, Daisy. Yes, I want that. I want that very much.” He glances at me, swallowing. “But if we do that, I won’t last long.”

I smile. “That’s okay. I just want…” I take a deep breath, acknowledging the vulnerability that tugs at me and continuing anyway. “I want to be as close as possible to you.”

Weston’s breath rushes out. He lays me back down, lips touching mine softly. “I want that too. That’s all I want.”

Emotion is a hot ball in my chest. How did I get so lucky that he wants me as much as I want him?

I spread my legs and motion for him to climb on top of me, but instead, he reaches for the bottle of lube, squirting some into his hand. I watch as he gently applies it between my legs. I don’t think I need it, but I love how he’s taking care of me. If it’s possible, it makes me want him even more.

“Come here.” I tug him onto me, the heat of his skin warming me through. His smell washes over me, the bergamot notes of his cologne mixed with just a hint of sweat. It’s intoxicating, and the minute I feel his hardness settle at my entrance, I shift my hips to rub myself on the head of his cock.

“Jesus Christ,” he bites out, rocking his hips in response. Our lips crash together as he slides back and forth at my entrance, rubbing my clit into a frenzy.

Fuck, I can’t wait anymore.

With a tilt of my hips, I urge him lower until he nudges inside me. I breathe out at the sheer relief of having him, finally, after all this time. The weight of him on top of me, the press of his lips on mine, the scratch of his chest hair on my breasts. It’s fucking perfect.

Wes raises himself onto his elbows to watch my face as he slowly enters me. He’s much bigger than my vibrator, and my mouth falls open as I feel myself stretch around his cock.

“Okay, baby?” he asks between clenched teeth, easing himself deeper.

I nod, trying to catch my breath at the sensation. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt; a fullness I never knew I needed, with a whisper of pain. He’s not all the way in yet, but having his mouth cover mine, having him stroke my cheek so tenderly, feels like heaven.

He gives a slow, cautious roll of his hips that sends both pleasure and pain coursing through me. I shift my hips, trying to escape the discomfort, and Wes notices.

“Should I stop?” he asks, beginning to pull away.

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