Chapter 36 My First Time
MY FIRST TIME
KATIE
The first thing I felt as soon as I woke up was the ache. A dull soreness between my thighs, reminding me of the night before.
And it wasn’t a dream.
I groaned, stretching my arms above my head. The sheets still smelled like him. Soap mixed with rain and very male.
My body ached in ways I didn’t know it could. It felt like I had run a marathon.
A marathon in bed.
I blushed thinking about… everything.
Researchers should study Dylan. He had no refractory period. He would get hard on a whim, and just when I thought we were done for the night, he would pull me in with a messy, passionate kiss, starting all over again.
“Oh my God,” I mumbled into my hands.
I had actually let Dylan—the arrogant, charming and infuriating Dylan—take me to bed. And he had been better than anything I could have dreamed.
Better than all the romantic fantasies I had or the first time sex I had read about in books. He exceeded all my expectations.
The spot between my legs throbbed with sharp memory, making me squirm. I looked around the empty bed and frowned. These were clean sheets, and even the pillow covers were changed. I peeked underneath the cover and found myself naked, covered in hickies (that jerk) and also clean.
I didn’t remember much about what happened since I passed out after a few rounds and… I think he might have cleaned me up.
Hazy memory of strong arms lifting me, the cool swipe of a cloth and his warm voice reassuring me, “I’ll take care of you, darling.”
I should hate that nickname, but instead it made my heart feel soft.
The bedroom door creaked, making me snap out of my head.
“Good morning, sunshine!” Dylan’s voice was far too cheerful for someone who had broken me.
I peeked over the blanket. He stood there shirtless (of course) and holding a tray like some kind of smug, half-naked butler in nothing but his boxers… with a bulge.
Of course, he has an erection in the morning.
I groaned louder and rolled onto my side. “You are way too much right now.”
In a way, he wasn’t. But also he was. How could I not get flustered and embarrassed seeing a handsome man with a Greek god body greeting me with breakfast?
“Oh, come on.” His grin was obnoxiously boyish. “I slaved away in the kitchen for you, my love,” he crooned, his deep voice making my stomach warm.
Dylan set the tray on the nightstand, and I licked my lips at the sight of sunny-side-up eggs, a pile of blueberries, and—God bless him—a steaming cup of coffee.
He knew exactly what I liked. It was almost odd how well he knew me. Because I don’t remember talking about breakfast with him. Ever.
I narrowed my eyes at him in mock glare. “You don’t get to butter me up with breakfast after what you did last night.”
“What did I do?” He pressed a hand over his heart, feigning innocence. “Did I hurt you? Do you want to punish me?”
“Yes. I do. You almost destroyed me,” I scoffed, hiding my blush behind the blanket.
He winced dramatically. And to my utter shock, he dropped to his knees, his messy hair falling over his forehead. The pout on his mouth was so ridiculous I almost laughed.
“I’m sorry, Katie,” he said, tilting his head up at me with those annoyingly gorgeous green eyes that seemed brighter than ever.
“I couldn’t hold back. You were too…” His gaze trailed down my body under the covers before he bit his lip.
“Too much for me. Too perfect. Sexy. Stunning. Hot. And the way you moaned my name, with your voice turning high like you—”
I slapped my hand over his mouth, his pupils dilating as the corners of his eyes wrinkled with his grin. I wanted to stay mad. Really, I did. But he looked so unfairly handsome kneeling there, shirtless and sounding eerily sincere with his apology.
I sighed, taking my hand away. “You’re impossible.”
His wolfish grin widened. “So you’ll forgive me?”
“Only if you feed me,” I said, biting my lip. I always thought it was ridiculous, but I wanted to try it. No one had ever fed me besides Anna when I was young.
That made him laugh, the sound low and warm, making my stomach flip. I straightened up, keeping my back pressed against the headboard as he lifted the tray and scooped a blueberry between his fingers and held it to my lips.
“Say ah, darling.”
I rolled my eyes but opened my mouth, trying not to laugh as he fed me like some pampered queen. He alternated between bites of egg and blueberries, occasionally sneaking a kiss to my cheek and lips.
He was truly like a clingy dog.
Once we finished breakfast, he stood up like a man on a mission, and I didn’t like the look in his eyes.
“Come on,” he said, pulling me out of bed with far too much energy for someone who had also been up all night. “Let’s take a shower. You look like a mess. A sexy mess, I must say.”
“I wonder whose fault that is,” I said, letting him drag me to the ensuite bathroom.
Thankfully, he behaved and didn’t start anything. But I had to slap his chest when his fingers traveled south under the stream of warm shower. He pouted, apologizing and washing me like he was my butler.
We got dressed in robes because his clothes were in the washer, and I felt like giving him company.
I padded barefoot down the hallway, still sore from the night before, with my oversized robe brushing against my legs. Dylan followed looking infuriatingly handsome with damp hair that curled at the nape of his neck.
“Thought I’d give you a tour of my home studio,” I said, pushing open a white door at the end of the corridor.
The familiar smell of polished metal and warm solder greeted me. My little studio always felt like a sanctuary. It was tidy, with a few half-finished projects. I was nervous since I rarely allowed anyone in, but I wanted him to see my work.
Sunlight streamed through the single window, spreading across my workbench cluttered with jeweler’s pliers, tiny files, a blowtorch, and trays of glittering gemstones.
“Damn, Katie.” Dylan whistled. “This looks like the lair of a very glamorous, sexy supervillain who turns out to be a modern-day citizen who transmigrated into a novel.”
I chuckled, shaking my head at him. “You read a lot of fantasies.” I brushed past him to adjust a tray of earrings. “I wish that were the case, but I’m just your regular professional jeweler.”
I glanced over my shoulder and found him leaning against a wall, arms crossed over his chest, watching me with such softness that made my cheeks burn hot. I looked away, unable to handle the intensity of his gaze.
What are we? What are we doing? Why are you looking at my sketches, my workbench, my studio and me as if it was a dream?
And why do I like it so much that my heart burns with jealousy when you’re not looking?
His gaze averted from my sketches pinned to the corkboard to the rings lined up neatly in velvet boxes, and the microscope near the bench.
“You’ve really built all of this,” he whispered, speaking to himself.
“Of course I did.” I cleared my throat, my fingers tracing over the cool edge of a silver cufflink I had been polishing.
The silence stretched, heavy and intimate in the small room. Then, out of nowhere, Dylan said,
“I need to tell you something, Katie.”
Uh oh. I hated those words.
“What?” I asked, horrified. “You have a girlfriend? Last night was a prank or some research study? Or maybe you’re an alien and not Dylan—”
“What?” He chuckled, stepping closer. “You’re the one who reads too many novels. Nothing crazy like that… it’s just that last night. It was also my first time.”
I froze, the cufflink almost slipping from my hand. “Wait. What?”
I wasn’t expecting him to say that. At all.