Page 143 of Love in Riverbend
“A dick question,” I explain, lifting her hands in mine. “I know you’re not a kid. I know you’ve grown up and that’s great. Fuck, it’s better than great. Part of me wants to take everything slowly, but maybe that part of me doesn’t know what you know.” I shake my head again. “It doesn’t matter if you’ve been with anyone else,” I lie, because saying it aloud makes me realize it does matter. Instead, I go on, “What matters is that while we figure this out, we’re exclusive.”
She nods. “I’ve dated.”
I nod, wanting more information.
“You’ve dated, I’m sure.”
I nod again.
Yeah, that would mean information-sharing is a two-way street.
“You’re asking me if I’m a virgin?”
“Yeah,” I admit. “Dick question.”
“It kind of is.” Devan sits back, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “If I say I am, then I’m back to being a child in your eyes. If I say I’m not, I’m a slut.”
“No.” The one word comes out louder than I mean it to. “You’re definitely not a slut. And I think we’ve established that you’re not a kid. I just…” I take a deep breath. “I don’t want to fuck this up. I’m willing to take it slow if that’s what you want. And if you want to go faster, I’m game with that too. I guess I thought that having that knowledge would give me an idea on the speed.”
Devan relaxes her knees and lays her fingers on my arm. Her touch is warm and soft. Slowly, she moves her gaze from where we’re touching to my face. “I don’t know what speed I want. I like when you kiss me and when you touch me.”
Tugging on her hand, I coax her to come even closer.
“Justin.”
“I’m not pushing.”
“No,” she says with a grin. “You’re pulling.”
“I want to touch you.”
Slowly, she nods and moves closer.
I’m seated with my legs out in a V and Devan settles on my lap, facing me with her legs bent around my waist and her hands on my shoulders. I hold onto her waist as her pussy hovers over my trapped erection.
Her eyes are wide, and I know she can feel what is happening to me.
With my gaze on hers, I tease one strap of her dress from her shoulder. When she doesn’t stop me, I tease the other. The front of her dress settles just over her perfect tits—no bra—giving me a slight peek at the deep pink of her areolas.
My lips pepper her soft flesh.
First, her lips, then down to her neck, and her collarbone. I’d gotten this far the other night. Today, I continue lower and lower until my chin nudges her dress down, and I suck one nipple and then the other.
“Justin.”
The way she says my name combined with the way her body fidgets in my grasp has me ready to come in my jeans. “Tell me to stop,” I say between kisses.
Her fingers weave through my hair, her breaths come more rapidly, and her back arches to give me better access. “Don’t stop,” she pants.
I work her arms from the straps, leaving her dress more like a skirt—from the waist up, she’s exposed. My fingers splay and caress, tracing the arch of her spine as her nipples bead and she fidgets in my lap. I long to touch every inch of her, to know what turns her on and what she likes.
Back and forth, her pussy rubs over my jeans.
Slow, I remind myself.
It takes all my self-control not to free my erection and let her ride me.
This isn’t about me. I lower my hands to her round ass, the one bouncing on top of me as I gather the material of her dress. It’s as my fingers brush the edge of her panties that I stop.
