Twenty-Eight
Montana
Than looked over at me from the sofa, where he sat, drinking a cup of coffee, when I walked into the main part of the cabin. When he hadn’t returned to the bedroom, I’d taken longer than necessary to dry my hair and get dressed. I’d worried he wanted space after having a moment to think about what it was we were doing or had done. I knew if I acted different with him, it was very likely he’d shut me out completely.
I didn’t know this game or how to play it. I’d never been in a situation like this before. This was the first time I’d ever wanted a guy more than he did me. Than didn’t want more than my body and the things we’d done in the bedroom this morning. He might possibly want sex. Would I give him that?
I’d made it to nineteen as a virgin, and I hadn’t had any friends back in Monroe who could say the same. But then their mommas hadn’t been a walking advertisement for what happened to girls who had sex with the wrong guy. I hadn’t tried to remain a virgin. There just had never been the right guy. I’d never felt…I’d never felt what I had with Than this morning. I had wanted him so much that all common sense left me.
“Jayda left a breakfast casserole thing. It has tater tots and shit in it. Looks good. I put it in the oven,” Than told me, then patted the spot beside him on the sofa with a little nod of his head as an invitation for me to come sit beside him.
I had to keep my head this time. Stay sane.
His blue eyes stayed on me as he took a drink, and I walked over to the sofa to sit down. I left some space between us, and he let out a deep chuckle.
“You’ve come on my fingers, Six,” he said, then patted the spot right beside him again. “I think you can get a little closer than that.”
Play it cool, Montana. Act like you did before. Don’t show him any weakness. You can do this.
Leaning back, I crossed my legs, trying not to grin as his eyes immediately went from my face to the shorts I was wearing and then traveled all the way to my feet.
“As long as you’re calling me Six, I think I’ll sit here,” I replied.
His gaze shot back up to mine. The corners of my lips quirked as I fought back the smile that wanted to spread.
“All right, but Twenty doesn’t have the same ring to it,” he replied.
Raising my eyebrows, I held his gaze. “Twenty?”
He nodded his head once. “Would you prefer Cherry Pie? Or Sugar Cookie? Better yet, you could straddle my lap, and I could start calling you Cowgirl.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Momma worked with a Cherry Pie and a Cookie. Their real names were Brenda and Ginger. I don’t intend to make my living on a stage. Why would you call me either of those? And Cowgirl? Seriously?”
He leaned back and propped his left ankle on his right knee, then rested his coffee on his thigh. He’d put on a pair of navy sweatpants and a snug white T-shirt, and as good as he looked in them, I missed the sight of his bare, muscular thighs and six-pack.
“Cherry Pie,” he drawled. “Come on now. That one is easy. Your cherry is still intact.”
My eyes widened, causing him to laugh and his eyes to dance with amusement.
“Sugar Cookie, not just Cookie, because you smell like vanilla with the faintest touch of cinnamon. And from the little taste I had of your pussy on my fingers, you’re just as sweet.”
The heat rushed to my face, and I shifted slightly as my core began to tingle.
He dropped his left foot back to the floor and patted his thigh. “You sure you don’t want to come ride? You can keep on your bottoms and rub one out on me. I’ve already got a semi, but if you climb on my lap, it’ll be fully erect for you.”
I let out a shaky breath. If he was going to talk to me like this all the time, I was going to stay in a constant state of arousal. The thought of straddling him and doing exactly what he said was tempting.
He reached over and cupped the side of my face, brushing his thumb over my cheek in a slow back-and-forth motion. “Sweet Girl would fit too,” he said in a husky tone. “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.”
Oh good Lord. My body was one combined ache now.
His hand dropped to my bare thigh, and he grabbed it, then slid me over to him until my leg was pressed against his.
“Mmm, better,” he murmured, then uncrossed my legs, taking the one closest to him and draping it over his thigh. “Talking about how sweet it tastes has me wanting more,” he told me. “Unbutton those shorts.”
He was going to touch me again. Yes. Yes, I wanted that very much. It wasn’t sex. It was just him making me explode into a million brilliant pieces with his hand. I did as he’d told me while his eyes stayed locked on my every move.
I barely had the last one undone when he moved my hand away and shoved his inside, slipping beneath the panties. I held my breath, preparing for his fingertips to reach my swollen clit, and when it did, I let out a loud gasp.
“Are you always this wet?” he asked as he continued running his finger down the center of my wet folds, then slowly moving it back again.
I shook my head, unable to talk.
“No? Then this is just for me?”
Yes, but I didn’t say it. He knew it was.
Another deep chuckle, but it was brief, ending the moment he found my tight entrance. He groaned. “Fuck, it’s driving me crazy, thinking about this being a virgin cunt,” he said while beginning to pump his finger in and out. “It’s never had a cock slide deep inside and stretch it,” he continued, tugging my leg that was draped over his further up his thigh until I felt the hard ridge of his cock.
“I’m not gonna take it from you, even as bad as I want to.” He sounded pained as he said it. “But I want to run the head of my cock over your clit and coat it with your sweetness.”
He talked to me in a way no one ever had. I was trembling with the need to climax. He had me right on the edge, dangling me.
“Lie down,” he told me as he moved my leg off him and stood up.
I watched him, then slipped my feet out of my sandals and turned to lie back onto the sofa. He shoved his sweats down, and there were no boxers beneath. A thick, veiny shaft stood, fully erect. Just the head of it looked too big to go into the hole it was meant for. How did he have sex?
Swallowing hard, I watched, mesmerized, as he kicked his sweats away and began to stroke himself. I might not need him to touch me at all to get off. The sight of his large cock in his fist was enough to cause a tremor to run through me.
“Open your thighs,” he told me. “I’m just gonna feel it. Your sweet cherry will be fine.”
I wasn’t sure if I was disappointed or relieved. Because as hot as he was with his cock in his hand, I was also terrified that it would split me in two.
I let my thighs fall open, and he groaned as his gaze locked on me there. Out of the many things I’d tried with boys, this was not one of them. They’d never seen me like this. I was trusting Than without even realizing it.
“Even your thighs are damp,” he said, lifting his hooded eyes to meet mine. “This virgin pussy has been gushing.”
Oh God.
He moved in closer until the head of his penis touched my sensitive flesh. I moaned as he hissed.
“Ah fuck,” he groaned, and his mouth fell slightly open. He began to drag the tip all the way from my entrance to my clit, then back again. Pressing lightly, he stretched me as he barely slipped inside. “Just a little,” he breathed. “Fuuuck, it’s like velvet.”
I should stop this, but seeing the pleasure on his face made me want to lift my hips and force him in further. It took all my self-control to stay still.
His nostrils flared, and his eyes, which had been locked on what we were doing, snapped up to me. “Can I put the head in? It’ll burn, but I won’t be far enough to reach your hymen.” The gruffness in his voice had a desperate edge.
Again, I should say no, but I nodded my head.
He kept his eyes on me as he pushed in just a little further, and he was right; it did burn. I didn’t want to think about how he had known that it would. How many virgins had he been with? Not right now.
“Christ,” he hissed through his teeth, and his eyes glazed over. “That’s…fuck, I want to sink inside so goddamn bad.”
The veins stood out on his neck as he arched it and began to barely pump his hips back and forth. The burn faded, but was replaced with a headiness that was building rapidly. A whimper escaped me, and his eyes darkened.
“Does it hurt?” He sounded hoarse.
I didn’t get a chance to answer before the crest hit, and I began to writhe beneath him. He sank in just a little deeper, making me cry out as my eyes flew open, and then he pulled out completely. His body glistened with a thin layer of sweat, and the blissed-out look on his face almost caused me to miss the thick spurts of his release onto the bare, waxed skin of my mound and the inside of my right thigh. But his loud shout as his body shuddered drew my attention to what he was looking at.
“Fuuuck,” he said in a strangled voice, still looking at where he’d coated me with his semen.
I moaned as another tremor ran through me. With both of our chests heaving, our eyes met. Neither of us said anything. There was no trace of blood, so he hadn’t broken my hymen, but at the moment, I didn’t care. All the caution I’d tried to warn myself about flew out the window after that earth-shattering experience.
To think, I had thought all orgasms were the same. I’d never known there were some on a level that sent you reeling, completely lost in a state of nirvana. I wanted more of that. Soon. Once I could breathe deeply again.
A loud knock on the door snapped us both out of our haze. Than jerked his head around to look over his shoulder, then snarled a curse before getting off me and standing up to snatch his sweats off the floor. I sat up, unsure of what to do since putting on my panties and shorts with his cum currently running down my thighs seemed like something that would be noticed.
He paused and licked his bottom lip as he stared down at me, and then he nodded his head toward the bedroom. “Go clean up,” he said gruffly.
Another sound went off, and his gaze swung to the kitchen as his brows drew together.
“Shit. The casserole,” he muttered before looking at me again.
I stood, grabbing my bottoms, and hesitated when I realized he was going to see my bare bottom when I walked away.
“Don’t get shy now,” he said, smirking, his frown gone.
He was right. I’d had my thighs wide open for him moments ago.
Turning, I walked toward the door.
“Damn,” he murmured. “A perfect apple bottom ass.”
Smiling, I opened the door and hurried inside.