Page 106 of I Knew You
I also hadn’t expected to lose control and climb him like a tree. Or expect him to be ready and waiting to receive my affections. I had wanted to drag out our reconciliation as long as I could, making him work for it. That did not happen.
I was a live wire, my senses sharp. I caught the faint pine scent of his cologne, mingling with his sweat. It made me feel feral. I absorbed the sound of our kisses and the exhale of our breaths. The scruff of his beard built friction everywhere his lips touched, and the rough pads of his fingers gripped onto my soft hips, waist, and back.
His muscles flexed as he pulled his uniform shirt and undershirt over his head in a fluid motion, his hands back on me instantly. I began to kiss his chest, tasting the salt of his skin.
“Are you sure about this, Julianna? Your back?—”
“I’m fine,” I panted. “The doctor said Friday, and as long as I was careful, that sexual activity would be fine.”
“I’ll be gentle,” he assured me, his hand sliding down my side and grabbing my thick buttocks. I’d already unbuckled his belt in the living room, and it took nothing for me to help him out of his pants and boxers.
His cock was pointing out and upwards, thick and proud. There was a bead of precum already, and I watched as he stroked himself in his large, veined hand—once, then twice—sending a wave of want through my body.
He pulled me toward him once again, and I felt his hardness against my softness. It was intoxicating, the dichotomy between our two bodies. This was the part of my sexual experience where, in the past, I freaked out. The expectation of what would occur, what I looked like, and what it would feel like usually began to eclipse the pleasure I sought.
But not now. Not with Bram.
I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything else. I wanted him more than I breathed, more than I lived. Our coming together was essential. It couldn’t be any other way.
“I wanted to go slow with you, but obviously, I can’t,” I said, the truth spilling from my lips so he wouldn’t have to admit it first. I knew he was following my lead, taking the back seat, and trying to be cautious about how this played out.
That wasn’t what I wanted. I needed him to take charge. I wanted him to command me. I needed him to know it was okay.
He sighed a little and smiled, his ridiculously handsome face making my heart flutter. “Thank God, because there is no way for me to slow down now.”
He gently laid me on my back and climbed over me so carefully and sensually. I had forgotten how delicious it was to have him on top of me, and even though he was careful not to put his full weight against my still-healing body, the feel of our skin against each other was satisfying.
His hand crept down my side and curled toward the front of us, until it came to the apex of my thighs. He felt around in the slightly trimmed curls until he found what he sought, his skilled fingers touching me reverently.
I arched my back as much as I could comfortably, as a low whimper escaped my lips. I knew he could feel the evidence of my want.
“So slick and ready for me, aren’t you?” His voice was husky, dripping with want.
I nodded profusely, unable to speak. He then let out a gravelly laugh. “I’m going to give you what you want. Don’t worry, sweets.”
I let my hand trail down his chest and squeezed one of his nipples, which elicited a low, enticing growl from his chest.
“Condom?” he breathed out, and I closed my eyes and moaned as his fingers slipped in and out of my tightness, barely penetrating. He knew exactly what to do.
I didn’t know whether to be upset or impressed.
“No,” I replied between heavy breaths. “I’m on the pill. Are you?—”
“I was tested long ago, and I was cleared. I used a condom every time. And I haven’t had sex in three years.”
I paused, trying to comprehend what he said. It wasn’t easy with his talented ministrations. My brain was mush, but still, it rapidly fired questions internally.
Why hadn’t he had sex in three years? Who was the last person he had sex with?But this wasn’t the time to ask. I had bigger declarations to admit to. I took a deep, shuddering breath. “I’ve got to tell you something. I’ve fooled around, but I’ve never hadfull intercourse,” I said in a small, unsteady voice. “It almost happened once, but I’d started thinking about how this guy didn’t care about me, not really, and I freaked out and left.”
He froze.
I wanted to cry when his fingers fell away from between my legs, and he sat up on his knees beside my body, looking down at my face. His eyebrows were raised in surprise, his lips slightly open. I was embarrassed, but I resisted the urge to hide my face. I was tired of hiding. And if he were going to make me feel like shit about being a thirty-three-year-old virgin, I would never let it show.
“No one has ever been inside you before?” he asked with such surprise that all I could think about was him bolting, wanting to escape the weight of the confession. I was internally panicking. I sat up slightly and grabbed his forearm as he continued talking. “Are you sure you want it to be me?”
“I want this. I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”
He ran his hand through his hair, blowing a long breath as I held mine.
