Page 90 of Shame Me
How long had he felt that way about me?
“He never deserved you. You deserve someone who—”
He cut himself off, maybe feeling like he’d said too much. Blinking remnants of salty tears from my eyes, I looked up at him but his eyes were turned away. Finally, I touched his chin, spiky brown stubble poking the pads of my fingers, and urged him to look at me. When his warm brown eyes focused on mine, I could see it all then.
How the fuck had I been so blind to not see the feelings he’d harbored for me?
And for how long?
And I’d simply kept chasing Zack, completely oblivious.
His eyes searched mine, and I could sense that he wanted to look away again—but I didn’t want that. Finally, he said, “I know you still love Zack. I get it. I didn’t mean to—”
But I kissed him then. It may have been from feeling like I’d finally been validated or from wanting to show respect for the feelings Braden had held for me for so long, unrequited and unacknowledged. His lips were warm and gentle, hesitant, but it felt as if I were being cocooned in a blanket of love and comfort.
And I felt a deep desire welling up inside me.
He was an amazing kisser, his tongue exploring my mouth slowly and softly without force, with a lingering taste of mint toothpaste. I’d grown used to tasting alcohol, usually vodka, so this sensation was completely different, and it was easy to get lost in nothing more than emotion. Dropping the tissues, I touched Braden’s bare, smooth chest, firm and warm, and hecupped my cheek with his hand before sliding it behind my neck, winding his fingers through my hair.
My entire body responded, and it felt as if I’d been plugged into an outlet and had electricity humming through my veins, ready to arc, prepared to catch everything on fire. My pussy quickly grew wet as every single nerve on my body charged up, ready to connect. My breath quickened and my heart picked up its pace.
Braden kept kissing me but, after a bit, I could tell he wasn’t going to move further…that he wanted me to make the moves to be sure—so I grabbed my t-shirt and pulled it up. As we parted, he asked, “Are you sure you want to do this?” His pupils were dark, consuming the light brown irises, so I knew he wanted me as much as I wanted him.
Nodding, I pulled the shirt over my head and Braden’s eyes shifted to my bare breasts. He simply said, “Jesus, you’re beautiful,” and kissed me again, easing me onto my back. And then his lips moved to my neck, making the muscles around my pussy constrict as goosebumps formed over my arms and my nipples pebbled. If I’d taken a picture of him at that moment and looked at it years later, I would have sworn he was in the Louvre looking at the Mona Lisa or Venus de Milo. I’d never thought of myself as sexy before—I was just average. Average breasts and butt, on the short side. I wasn’t model material, but the way Braden looked at me made me feel like I was.
Bringing his lips to my ear, he nibbled on my earlobe. “If you change your mind at any point…”.
“No, I want you, Braden. I won’t change my mind.”
He kissed me again, but it was still gentle and relaxed as if we had all the time in the world. But then he again began kissing my neck and then softly ran his tongue along my collarbone as an ache spread through my body, a yearning, a deep need to beconsumed by him, and I wanted to feel him inside me, in every pore, every crevice.
And he had the same idea. “I want to taste every square inch of your body.”
My pussy nearly purred at the thought, throbbing as it begged to feel his attention there. Instead, he closed his mouth over one of my nipples and lapped at it as if I were ice cream and he didn’t want to miss a drop. A soft groan formed in my throat as I plunged my fingers into his hair. Then he turned the same loving attention toward the other nipple and, for a brief second, I wondered how the hell Braden had become such a good lover.
Although I knew it was partially due to practice…I also knew it was because he cared so much about me.
But I couldn’t wait any longer. His attention made me feel warm and safe, but my body was pleading with me to move on with the proceedings. Sliding my hand from his hair to his face, I whispered, “I want you inside me, Braden, and I don’t want to wait.”
When his eyes met mine, I saw understanding and an endless well of desire. He gave a short nod and said, “Whatever you want.” Sitting up on his knees, he gently tugged at my sweatpants. I lifted my ass up off the bed and he eased them off me, exposing my naked bottom half. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he breathed—and then he got up off the bed.
Had I scared him off?
He began rifling through his duffel bag near the wall and, when he arrived back at the bed with a small box of condoms, I understood why. After pulling off his pants, he stood and opened the box while I stared at his cock. I’d seen a few, most of them blurred by time and whatever substances I’d been taking at the time except for one notable one that I refused to think about. Braden might not have been the biggest boxer in the ring,but he had nothing to be ashamed about—and, even though I wouldn’t have considered myself worldly, I hadn’t noticed a huge difference. Once they were inside me, they all managed to hit the right places.
So I had no doubts about Braden. In fact, he’d been a perfect lover up to this point.
After he rolled the condom over his rigid dick, he got back up on the bed with me. Nestled between my legs, he didn’t enter, even though I could feel his cock pressing against me as if my pussy were a magnet, drawing him near. “I just want to make sure you’re sure.”
In response, I wrapped my hand around his neck and pulled his lips down to mine. Shoving my tongue inside his mouth, I tasted of him again, the hint of toothpaste fading, and I decided I liked his flavor—salty, earthy, clean.
Still, he didn’t begin ramming me with his cock like I wanted; instead, he slid an arm between us and snaked his index finger down inside my slickness, straight to my pussy. Then he moved back up, swirling his finger on my clit until I moaned, spreading my legs wider.
It was then that he entered me, and my body tried to consume him. “Yeah,” I breathed, getting lost in the rhythm. He kissed me again, still tender, still attentive, as if he were doing this only for me. As he played me like a bassline, I couldn’t quite get to climax. Instead, I was focused on my heart.He loves me for who I am…and I’m more than enough.
My breath started coming in gasps, but I couldn’t get there—and he finally asked, “Are you close?”
“No.” But I thought of so many times in the past when I hadn’t. “That’s okay. I don’t always…and you feel so good.”
