Page 49 of First Time

She giggled a little—the first laughter I had ever heard from her.

I opened my eyes and smiled at the dim outline of her head. “Are you uncomfortable?”

“Yes.”

“In a good way or bad way?” I asked, still smiling.

She wiggled her ass the slightest bit, and I let my groan fly, splaying my fingers across her belly and tightening my arm around her waist. “I’m going to have a very hard time trying to sleep if you keep moving like that.”

More light laughter escaped her, but she sobered quickly. “Is it wrong for me to want you at a time like this?”

Goddamnit…the woman was too fucking much.

“No.” I rolled Becky onto her back and propped on an elbow to peer down at her. Although darkness hovered over the bedroom, I could easily make out the purple bruise on her cheek. The long, silky lashes framing her wide, doe-like eyes. Her bowed, parted lips needing to be kissed.

I ran my fingertips along her jaw, down to the pulse thrumming in her neck. “Is it wrong that I long to give you whatever you desire right now?” I asked with a similar sentiment, torn between being patient and submitting to the hunger in her eyes.

She stared at my mouth. “No,” she echoed my whisper.

Tracing a fingertip over her lips, I swallowed. “Can I kiss you?”

She lifted her head and brushed her lips across mine.

Hand sliding beneath her nape to keep her close, I sank into the sweetest mouth I had ever tasted. Blueberries? Strawberries? Whatever her flavor, I craved more, caressing my tongue along hers. I breathed her exhales deep into my lungs.

With a moan, she relaxed in my hold on her neck, and I lowered her back to the mattress. My mouth still fused to hers, my chest resting half against her softness. I nibbled and licked both of her lips, memorizing every inch of her with my tongue.

A tentative touch on my waist enticed me to shift closer, and she grasped at my T-shirt, holding tight as though afraid I would move away and leave her alone.

I rolled us onto our sides, running my hand along her curves and lifting her leg over my waist. Trailing openmouthed kisses along her jaw and down her neck, I pressed the back of my leaking cock against her core. The heat of her pussy seared me through my lounge pants, and I ground against her while groaning into her neck.

“Becky,” I rasped, too many curses and words of affirmation I wanted to speak but couldn’t.

She threaded her fingers through my hair. “Please,” she whispered, lifting my head up to kiss her eager lips.

Thrusting my tongue in time with my hips against her core, I slid my hand beneath her ass, filling my palm with her bare, plump flesh. I squeezed and kneaded, and she whimpered in my hold, wiggling. Clinging. Her breaths panted against my lips.

“I-I want you, Daniel. Please.”

How the fuck was I supposed to deny the pleading in her voice? I pushed her onto her back and settled between her thighs. One last brush of my lips over hers and I sat on my haunches, ripping off my shirt. She wiggled, pulling my T-shirt up over her head. Her wince made me pause.

“Shoulder hurting?” I asked, running my hand over it while she set my shirt aside with her other hand.

“Yes, but I forget about it when you’re kissing me.” Her dark eyes bored into me, her chest rising and falling with each quickened breath.

The desire in her stare, the scent of her arousal rising from between her thighs pushed me to the edge, but I hesitated.

“We are moving really fast, Becky. I have no desire to push or rush you into something you might not emotionally be ready for.”

She stared up at me, determination in her eyes. “I asked you to come in here to be with me. I initiated this because I need you to show me what intimacy is supposed to be like. Please, Sir.”

A shudder ripped through me at the thought of not just our bodies but our spirits intertwining as well. Fuck, did I want that. Desperately.

“Then I will,” I promised quietly while running my hands up the insides of her thick thighs. “But I’m not your Sir right now. Just Daniel.” My gaze drifting down over her breasts with their hardened points. I dipped my gaze lower, over her soft stomach to the thatch of curls I couldn’t wait to bury my face in.

My thumbs swept up along the apex of where her thighs met her labia. Wetness coated the pads of my thumbs, and I trailed them back down as she pressed into my touch with a soft moan, eyelids fluttering shut.

I stilled my hands atop her thighs and waited for her to look at me again, not wanting arousal alone to dictate what happened in the next few moments.

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