Chapter Twenty #2
He lifts me gently into his arms, like I might break, and carries me the few steps to his bed.
He lays me down carefully, bracing himself over me.
“Last chance, KitKat,” Scottie murmurs against my lips, and I can feel the anticipation in his voice, the restraint coiled tight in every muscle of his body, even though I know he wants this.
“If I start,” he continues, his thumb tracing my jawline with devastating gentleness, “I’m not half-loving you. It’s all or nothing.”
My heart hammers against my ribs. There’s nervousness fluttering in my stomach, yes, but underneath it is something stronger—certainty.
I don’t want to be scared of loving him anymore.
Scared that this might not last because we won’t be able to convince my grandmother and father. I just want to be with him.
“Then give me all of it,” I whisper, reaching up to cup his face. “I want all of you.”
His breath shudders out, eyes closing briefly like I’ve just given him something precious.
“Okay,” he says, and when his eyes open again, they’re dark with promise. “But we’re taking this slow. I need you ready for me, need you so ready that it’s all you can think about. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Heat floods through me at his words.
He lowers his mouth to mine, kissing me deep and slow, his tongue sliding against mine in a rhythm that makes me ache. His hand slides down my side, over my ribs, coming to rest on my hip as his thumb traces small circles on my skin.
When he finally breaks the kiss, we’re both breathing hard.
“I’m going to touch you everywhere,” he murmurs against my jaw, trailing kisses down to my neck. “Taste you everywhere. Make you come on my tongue again before I’m even inside you. Understood?”
“Scottie...” His name comes out breathy, wanting.
“That’s not an answer, Katerina.”
“Yes,” I manage. “Yes, I understand.”
“Good girl.”
The praise makes me clench, and he knows it—I can see it in the slight curve of his lips before he lowers his mouth to my collarbone.
He takes his time, kissing and licking a path down my body while his hands map every inch of skin. When he reaches my bra, he pauses, fingers tracing the edge of the lace.
"Can I take this off?”
“Please,” I whisper.
He reaches behind me, unhooking it with practiced ease, and slowly draws the straps down my arms. The cool air hits my bare breasts, my nipples hardening with excitement.
“God, look at you.”
He cups one breast in his hand, thumb brushing over the nipple. I gasp, arching into his touch, and then his tongue is there, his mouth wrapping around my nipple, warming me while his hand works the other, rolling and tugging until I’m squirming beneath him.
“Scottie, please—” “
Not yet,” he says against my skin. “Need you wetter than you’ve ever been.”
He moves to the other breast, giving it the same thorough attention while I fist my hands in his hair, holding him to me.
The ache between my legs is becoming unbearable as he kisses his way down my stomach, teeth scraping lightly over my hip bone, while he slides the waistband of my panties down my thighs until he’s flicking them off the bed and onto the floor.
He settles between my thighs, pushing them wider, and I’m already trembling with anticipation as he kisses the inside of my thighs until his mouth finds my center, and I whimper at needing him there, as every coherent thought leaves my brain, and all I can think about is him and this moment between us.
He’s not gentle this time—he’s deliberate, intense, using everything he learned about my body before. His tongue works my clit in firm circles while one hand grips my thigh, holding me open for him. I gasp, hips rolling against his mouth, needing more pressure.
I’m already so wound up from all the anticipation, all the touching, that I can feel my orgasm building embarrassingly fast.
“That’s it,” he encourages between licks as his finger enters me and slides across the spot he knows undoes me.
He works me slowly and then adds a second finger, filling me further until I can feel myself teeter over the edge of a cliff.
I pull harder at his hair, moaning out his name into the dark.
“Take one more. I know you can,” he encourages as he adds a third finger that fills me so full I think I can’t handle any more.
It doesn’t take long. My body is primed and dripping wet, and when he curls his fingers against that spot inside me while sucking my clit, I come apart, falling over the edge of my orgasm, gasping through the waves of pleasure.
He works me through it with gentle movements as I come down until finally, he withdraws his fingers.
I hear him moving, the sound of a drawer opening. When I force my eyes open, he’s kneeling between my legs, completely naked now, rolling a condom down his length.
The sight of him makes my mouth go dry. He’s hard, thick, and suddenly the nervousness comes rushing back.
He must see it on my face because he leans down, caging me in with his arms, and kisses me softly.
“Hey,” he whispers against my lips. “Stay with me. We’ve done all the hard work. Your body is ready, but we’re going to take this really slow, okay? You stop me if it hurts, or for any reason at all.”
I nod. “I’m just... what if it doesn’t fit?”
He huffs a soft laugh. “It’ll fit, baby. I promise. It might be uncomfortable at first, but you’re soaking for me. We’re going to take our time so you can adjust. We’re not in a hurry. It’s just us.”
The softness in his voice, the assurance he gives me… it has me trusting him completely.
“Tell me you trust me,” he says, pulling back to look in my eyes.
“I do,” I breathe, and I mean it. “I trust you, Scottie.”
“Then trust me when I say I’m going to make this so good for you.” He positions himself at my entrance, and I feel the broad head pressing against me. “Remember to breathe. If you need me to stop, you tell me. Understood?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl.” He leans down to kiss me as he starts to press forward.
He presses forward again, just a little, and I feel the stretch—so much more than his fingers. It burns a little as his head pushes past my entrance, and I grip tight around his neck.
“I got you… tell me to stop,” he says, but I shake my head. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans, voice strained. “So goddamn tight, Katerina. Are you okay?”
I nod, the burn intensifies as he presses deeper, and I grip his shoulders hard enough to leave marks.
“Breathe, baby,” he murmurs, holding still, letting my body adjust for a moment before he continues. “You’re doing so well.”
He rocks forward another inch, and I gasp at the stretch, at the way my body has to accommodate him. It’s overwhelming, intense, toeing the line between too much and not enough.
I’m not sure how pain and pleasure mix like they are, but soon the initial burn is gone, and all I feel is my body’s need for more of him and a feeling of fullness as he slowly enters me, inch by inch, as my body stretches to accommodate him pulls a moan from my lips.
“Do you need me to slow down?”
I shake my head.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I say. “I’m sure.”
I don’t want him to stop, my body’s beginning to pulsate around him, more arousal pooling low in my belly as if my body knows what this all means.
I shift my hips experimentally, and we both gasp at the sensation.
“Katerina,” he warns. “I’m trying really hard to be gentle here.”
“Maybe I don’t want gentle anymore,” I say, surprised by my own boldness.
His eyes darken. “Yeah? You want more?”
“Please.”
The pleasure builds with each thrust now, the fullness and friction combining into something that steals my breath. My hips start moving with him, meeting him thrust for thrust until he’s fully seated inside me.
“That’s my girl,” he praises, moving faster now. “Look at you, taking me so well. Made for this. Made for me.”
“Scottie—” I gasp as the pressure builds low in my belly.
“I think—I think I’m going to—”
“Yeah, you are,” he says roughly, reaching between us to circle my clit with his thumb. “Come on my cock. Squeeze me. Show me just how good my cock feels.”
The dual sensation of him inside me and his thumb on my clit pushes me over the edge. The orgasm crashes through me, different from before—deeper, fuller, more intense. My body clenches around him rhythmically, and I hear him curse.
“Fuck—Katerina—I can’t—”
His thrusts become erratic, harder, and then he buries himself deep with a guttural groan of my name. I feel him pulsing inside me, his whole body rigid as his orgasm tears through him, and the sensation of his release triggers another wave of pleasure through my over-sensitized body.
Finally, we both still, gasping for breath. He’s heavy on top of me, but I don’t mind. I like the weight of him, the way I can feel his heart hammering against my chest.
“Holy shit,” he finally says into my neck.
“Yeah,” I agree breathlessly.
He lifts his head to look at me, and I’m struck by the tenderness in his eyes.
“How do you feel? Tell me the truth.”
“Sore,” I admit. “But good. Really, really good.”
“No regrets?”
“Only that we waited this long,” I whisper, echoing what I told him before.
He smiles—that devastating smile—and kisses me softly before carefully withdrawing. I wince slightly at the sensitivity, and he notices.
“I’m going to clean you up,” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead before disappearing into the bathroom.
He returns with a warm washcloth and is gentle as he cleans between my legs. It’s intimate in a different way, being cared for like this.
When he’s done, he tosses the cloth aside and climbs back into bed, pulling me into his arms. I curl into his chest, listening to his heartbeat gradually slow.
“How was that?” he asks softly, fingers tracing patterns on my back.
“Better than I thought my first time would be,” I say honestly. “You were... perfect.”
“No, you were perfect,” he counters, tightening his arms around me.
“No regrets?” I ask, needing to hear it from him, too. “Not a single one,” he says firmly. “You’re mine now, Katerina. Completely.”
“Yours,” I agree, feeling the truth of it settle into my bones.
We fall asleep with me curled into him, his arms keeping me close, my ear against his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow into the steady rhythm of sleep.
And I’ve never felt safer, more cherished, or more completely loved in my entire life.