Chapter 14 #2
My whimper is audible, and I swear I hear his triumphant smile through the phone.
“Tell me how you touched yourself. Did you play with your needy clit?”
“Yes,” I pant.
“Is that what you like? To have your clit rubbed until you’re dripping?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I don’t…I haven’t…that was the first…” My words dry up before I can admit that today was the first time that I’ve touched myself, and the first orgasm I’ve ever had.
“The first time?” he says slowly. “The first time what, amore mio?”
“The first everything,” I blurt.
“The first time you touched yourself?”
“Yes. Well, sort of.”
“Sort of?” he questions.
“I…when I was younger, I…but not like…” I can’t say the words.
“Was this the first time you touched yourself to make yourself come?”
“Yes.”
“I missed it,” he growls angrily.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t fucking apologize. I should be the one apologizing. You told me you were a virgin, but I didn’t think…”
“That I was this pathetic at twenty years old,” I scoff.
“I don’t like you talking about yourself like that, amore mio. You’re fucking perfect for me. I just hate that I pushed you—”
“You didn’t push me,” I interrupt. “If I hadn’t wanted to, I wouldn’t have done it. I’m not sorry that I did, it felt—”
“How did it feel?” he asks, his voice dropping to a seductive rasp.
“Good, it felt really good.”
“Fuck, Verity. Did you push your fingers into your pussy?”
“I tried, but it didn’t feel right. It was okay, but…” I trail off, not sure how to describe it.
“That’s because somewhere deep inside of you, your body knows that putting things inside of you is my job,” he says, amusement lacing his tone.
“From now on, you should only play with your clit. When I get home, I’ll show you how good it feels for me to fill you up.
I’ll start with fingers, then my tongue, before I stretch you around my cock. ”
“Okay,” I agree, heat filling my cheeks with sudden embarrassment.
A loud siren bursts to life, and Warrick growls. “Fuck, amore mio, the alarm just sounded. I have to go. Go get something to eat and spend the rest of the day in my shirt and nothing else, that way I’ll have something good to think about while I work.”
“Bye, Warrick.”
“Bye, Verity,” he says and ends the call.
The next two days feel endless. Every conversation with Warrick only heightens my newly discovered arousal, and by the time I crawl into his bed on the night before his shift ends, I’m so restless and needy that I have to stop myself from pushing my fingers into my body again to see if I can soothe the ache that seems to have taken up residence in my sex.
I’m not so oblivious that I don’t know that I’m turned on. But it’s still surprising to me that my body is reacting like this after so many years of nothing but disinterest in sex or arousal.
I feel it the moment that he gets home. I don’t know if the air feels heavier, or if after years of being alone, my built-in alarm has simply alerted me to the second person in the house. But either way, the moment I hear him start to climb the stairs, tingling heat sparks to light between my legs.
He’s quiet when he pushes open his bedroom door and steps into the room, but instead of finding me asleep, my eyes land on his, and I know…I want him. All of the arousal and need I’m feeling is just for him.
“Fuck, amore mio, I missed you,” he says, dropping his bag to the floor with a thud as he slowly peels his shirt up and over his head, revealing his thick muscular chest and the smattering of hair that covers his warm, tan skin.
Pausing with his hands at his belt, he arches his eyebrows at me, giving me time to tell him to stop, but I don’t speak, my eyes darting between his face and the visible bulge in his pants.
After what feels like an eternity but is less than a minute, he unfastens his belt, the metal clinking together as he releases it, then unbuttons his pants and shoves them to the floor.
Toeing off his boots, then socks, he steps out of his pants, leaving them in a pile, as he steps toward the bed in just his boxers that are stretched tight over his hard dick.
Swallowing thickly, I try not to acknowledge my nerves, but I can’t help how scared I am. Mostly naked, his body is an ode to the gym. Huge arms, solid thighs, and a stomach that ripples with muscles.
I’ve never stepped foot inside a gym in my life. I’m skinny due to lack of food, not because I want to match up to some image of beauty on the TV.
“Jesus, amore mio. You in my shirt is a fucking dream,” he growls, watching me for a moment like he’s checking that I’m still okay with the way this is going, before he hooks his thumbs into his boxers and pushes them down.
“Oh,” I squeak when his very hard, very big cock is revealed.
Reaching for it, he fists his dick, sliding his hand up and down the length, before he moves, planting a knee on the mattress as he prowls toward me.
I don’t know how big his dick is in comparison to other men, but it’s big enough to make me doubt that it will easily fit inside of me. Is that a thing? Dicks being too big? Is his too big, or am I just being a wimp?
“Tell me you want this,” he says, crawling up the bed until his body is between my thighs, his huge frame forcing me to spread my legs to make room for him.
“I want this,” I confess breathily. I could deny it, but what would be the point?
I do want him. I don’t know if that want will turn into the fairy tale he’s created in his head, but right now I don’t care.
I want to experience him. I want to act on the lust that I didn’t know I was capable of a week ago, and that now seems to be all I can think about.
His sigh is pure relief that turns to feral desire so fast that I don’t even see his hands moving until the shirt that I’m wearing is ripped off me and thrown to the floor, leaving me in just my panties.
Lowering his face to mine, he pauses a breath from my lips and inhales, sucking in a calming breath before his lips land on mine. Instead of desperate need, his kiss is pure seduction, sweet and druggingly addictive.
My body is on fire. My nipples feel like spikes, and my core is dripping, but nothing else matters, because if all we do is kiss, then I’m okay with that.
I thought our other kisses had been good, but this is better.
I don’t know if that’s because this one feels important, like it’s a promise or a silent vow.
No matter what it means, I want it to last forever.
I’ll die happy if this is how I go: connected to this man I barely know, but who feels like he’s going to change my life.
Whimpering, I make a noise of protest as he drags his lips from mine. “I needed that,” he rasps, peppering kisses down my jaw and onto my neck. My words turn into moans when his lips find my nipple and he sucks one rock-hard peak into his mouth.
Wet, writhing, and completely delirious, I squirm as he sucks on my nipples like he’s addicted to tasting them. My eyes fall closed as my body burns with desire. I want more, but I don’t know what I need or if he’ll give it to me.
The wetness seeping between my legs has turned into a torrent of liquid desire, that I hope isn’t soaking the sheets beneath me. But I’m too mindless to care when I’m desperate for him to touch me there.
“Warrick,” I pant.
Running his tongue around the circle of my nipple, he looks up at me with the same fire and want and need that I’m feeling blistering in his gaze. “Do you need me?” he asks.
I nod, frantically lifting my head up and down.
“Okay, amore mio, let me show you how good I can make you feel,” he coos softly, shuffling down my body until his face is level with my sex.
“Dripping,” he says, smiling smugly as he runs his tongue along the soaked fabric of my panties, before he curls his fingers into the waist and peels them off my body, squeezing them in his fist before he drops them to the floor.
Palming the backs of my legs, he spreads my thighs, positioning me with my heels against the mattress and my knees bent.
Parting my sex with his fingers, he explores my folds, finding my clit, then moving lower to tease my entrance.
His touch feels so different to mine, and when he carefully slips one finger inside of me, I gasp.
“From now on, I’ll be the only person putting anything inside of you. Fingers, tongue, toys, cock, fucking tampons, that’s my job from now on. This is my pussy. Do you understand?” he snarls, easing a second finger into my body and making a low whine slip from my lips.
“Can you hear me, amore mio, or do I need to stop until you can answer?”
“I understand,” I rasp.
“This perfect virgin cunt is so tight I’m going to show you how good my fingers can feel and stretch you a little, so I don’t hurt you when I push my cock into you,” he says, as his tongue strokes a burning hot stripe over my clit.
Lurching up off the bed, I squeal loudly as pleasure ignites inside of me.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” I pant, as he pumps his fingers in and out of me while his tongue flicks and circles and does things to my clit that I had no idea you could do with a tongue until right now.
My orgasm comes from nowhere, and I scream so loudly that I’m confident that everyone in a mile radius heard me.
“That’s it, amore mio, let me in,” he coos, stretching me even wider with his fingers while my body is still floating in pleasure. “So fucking wet, you love being finger fucked, don’t you?”
I try to nod, but my body feels so floaty that I’m not sure if my head obeys.
“It’s time to take one of my firsts,” he says, his fingers still moving inside of me as he sits up and fists his cock.
I whimper when he pulls his fingers from my body, but before I have a chance to beg him to push them into me again, he wipes the wetness dripping from his hand around his dick. My mouth goes dry as he guides his cock to my entrance and pushes the head into my body.