Page 4 of Real's Love

“I ain’t tryna hear all that. It’s midnight. Happy nineteenth birthday, baby.”

I opened the drawer on the coffee table and pulled out a box, the distinctive shade of blue making her eyes light up as she grabbed her cheeks.

“Tate! Oh, my God!” she whispered as I pulled one of her hands down and put the box in it.

Leaning forward, she pressed the sweetest kiss to my lips. She gasped again as she opened it and saw the three, diamond-adorned bangles in three shades of gold.

“This is too much! I can’t?—"

I put a finger against her lips, shaking my head as she fussed. On her, I’d spend a million times the 25Gs I dropped on this gift. Shorty’s worth was priceless.

“Thank you,” she whispered, holding the box to her chest.

I kissed her forehead.

“You welcome. You wanna start the movie back up?”

Everly bit down on her lower lip as she looked at me. Slowly, she shook her head. I frowned as she stood up and held out a hand to me. I took it but didn’t move, even as she pulled me.

“Where we going?” I asked.

Her grip loosened as she met my eyes, her gaze uncertain.

“To… to your room. Unless you don’t wanna go?”

It was a soft question, revealing how vulnerable she was. If I were a better man, I would’ve turned it down outright. She was so sweet, so innocent. I should’ve reassured her, insisted we restart the movie.

But I was a selfish muthafucka.

And she was just so fucking beautiful…

“Ev, you don’t have to… not because of that gift,” I said lamely, even as my dick swelled and I grasped her hand.

She smiled then. “It’s not the gift. I-I want to, Tate.”

And she really wanted to. I kissed and touched and licked and sucked her through her nervousness until we were here.

My hips between her lush thighs.

My dick against her untouched entrance.

My lips on her sweet mouth.

I pressed forward.

Even as her nails dug into my skin.

Even as her body arched beneath mine.

Even as I felt my throbbing dick tear past the last proof of her innocence.

Even as I greedily licked the tears that seeped from the sides of her closed lids.

“I’m sorry, baby,” I whispered as my hips started an involuntary rhythm, thrusting into the sweet, hot tightness of her over and over.

Her beautiful eyes opened, wet from the pain, sultry from the pleasure.

“It’s okay,” she murmured as her hips finally, hesitantly, met mine. “It’s okay.”

---