Page 59 of Tart
I pulled the drawer open next to my bed for a condom, only to be greeted with emptiness. “Fuck,” I groaned, my dick bobbing against her leg. “And not the good kind.”
“What?” she asked, sitting up to check the drawer.
“I hadn’t bought condoms in so long that I had to throw the old ones away. I never bought more. I guess we’ll have to save that part of the test for another night.”
“Like hell,” she moaned, tossing her head side-to-side. “I’ve been on the pill for a decade. You don’t have to worry about condoms anymore. Fuck me, Halla, now,” she ordered, lifting her hips again, begging me to love her.
I stroked her engorged lips while I thought about it. I could trust her. I knew that. Part of me wanted to plunge inside her, but part of me was too scared of making another mistake in my life. “I’ve never had sex without a condom, Amber.”
“Athena,” she whispered, but I shook my head.
“I wore a condom that night. Do you see my point?”
She grasped my hand and pulled me down to her lips, and her hand came up to stroke my cheek while she kissed me. “I can promise you that we are safe. The only way to fuck this up is not to fuck me.”
I growled, attacking her lips again until they were red and swollen. I rested next to her and grasped her hips. “Let me do the work. I’m going to rest your left leg over my hip.”
Her head nodded, and I positioned her in such a way I knew she’d be comfortable when I entered her. “I’ve never had sex without a condom. I don’t know how long this will last,” I whispered, stroking her breast in the low light of the moon. I grasped my dick and rubbed it across her wetness, wetting myself with her, so she would be comfortable. “It’s now or nothing, tart. Do you still want me to fuck you?”
She growled and lowered her hips until she’d swallowed me whole and in one smooth motion. “Fuck, tart,” I moaned, thrusting up to bury myself as deeply as I could. “Oh, my God. I’ve never felt this way before.”
“Me either,” she cried, squeezing me with her legs when I tried to pull out. “Don’t,” she begged. “I need to come.”
I grasped her hips and held them still. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to come,” she cried, clamping down even harder around me.
I stilled and cupped her cheek, my gaze holding hers. “That’s not how this works, baby girl.”
“It is in my world,” she said, defeated.
I pulled out, and she cried out, grabbing for me until I grasped her hands and held them to the bed. “Listen to me, Mrs. Halla. That is not how you make love.” I rolled her onto her back and released her hands, laying them out to her side. “Just let your pelvis relax into the bed,” I instructed, stroking her belly tenderly.
“But,” she sputtered.
I put my finger to her lips. “Don’t interrupt the teacher during his lesson, tart.”
She closed her lips, and while I stroked her belly, she slowly relaxed her bottom into the bed.
“Good girl,” I whispered, stoking her fire again by trailing my finger up and down her slit, my dick aching to be back inside her again. “I’m going to teach you how to come when making love, but first, will I hurt you if I rest between your legs?”
Her head shook, and I leaned in, kissing her with enough tongue to take the look of fear out of her eyes and put the lust back in them. I nudged her legs further apart with mine, and without breaking the kiss, I pushed inside her again, moaning the full length until I was seated deeply, stopping so she could get used to the feel of me inside her.
“I just want you to know,” I whispered, trailing kisses down her cheek to her neck. “This is the first time I’ve ever had sex without a condom. I had no idea what I was missing.”
“Does the teacher like the student's homework?” she teased, trying to thrust her hips towards mine. I was holding them down, and she was frustrated. I could tell by the moan she let out when she was forced to wait for me to move inside her.
“He does, but he’s about to teach the student a lesson she’ll never forget. Are you ready?” I asked, and her head nodded as I thrust back inside her again. “Do you feel that?” I stroked her walls with the full length of me, using perfect precision each time, being careful to stay away from the places I knew would cause an immediate orgasm. “That’s how a man makes love to a woman. Slow. Easy. Gentle. At least at first,” I moaned, reveling in the sensation of her heat and wetness wrapped around me. “The goal isn’t to orgasm because you force it. The goal is to orgasm from the pleasure of being together. Of pleasuring each other.”
I lifted myself onto my toes and changed the angle just enough that I saw the immediate reaction on her face. “Oh, Bishop,” she called, her hands grasping my shoulders tighter each time I pulled out until I pushed back inside her.
“Say my name, my little tart,” I ordered, my thighs shaking with the willpower it took to hold back the eruption of my soul inside her.
“Bishop,” she begged. “I want to come, please.”
“Do you feel it starting to build? Is it spiraling inside your belly like a coil?” I asked, increasing the speed of my thrusts in and out.
“Yes, I feel it,” she cried. “Harder!” she called. I laughed, burying my face in her neck and sucking while I pumped inside her, almost losing myself before I remembered the lesson I was supposed to be teaching.
