Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
PAIGE
“Stay right here.”
Nate presses a kiss to the top of my head and then disappears into what I assume is the master bathroom.
“All right,” I mutter to myself. “This isn’t awkward at all.”
I use the opportunity to check out Nate’s bedroom and distract myself from what’s about to happen. A simple wooden bed is covered with a navy-blue comforter. There are two small tables on either side of the bed and a rug at the foot.
Across the room is a long, narrow dresser with a television hanging above it. And above the bed is a painting that looks as though someone took a paintbrush, dipped it in various cans of paint, and flicked it against the canvas.
I turn a full circle, and just as I come to the end, Nate fills the doorway.
Wow.
He’s lost his shoes, socks, and shirt. The man is standing in front of me in a pair of jeans with a set of abs that you could grate cheese on.
Don’t drool.
He watches me for a long moment as if he’s not sure what to do with me. This makes me smile.
“Look, I’m just telling you now—you’ve talked a big game, buddy. If you aren’t sure how to do this, we have problems,” I say.
A low rumble slips past his lips. “Funny girl.”
And just that one comment seems to bring us back to who we’ve been for so long. Friends. Except … I don’t know what all this means or how it could work, but I’m telling you this—I’m past the point of no return. Either you’re mine or you’re not … Nate wants more.
And right now, I’m absolutely certain that I want to be his too.
He enters the room and sets a few things on the table by the bed. Then he faces me.
“First, I cannot read your mind,” he says.
“That’s obvious, or we would’ve been here days ago.”
He laughs. “What I mean is, there’s no way for me to know how something feels to you. I want to know. I want to know if you like it, if you hate it, or if it hurts. You have to communicate with me.”
“Okay. I’ll be sure to be vocal.”
He rolls his eyes but maintains his smile. “Second, if you decide you don’t want to do this or if something makes you uncomfortable, you have to promise you’ll stop me. No matter what. Okay?”
I tap my finger on my chin. “But what do I say to start you?”
“I’m being serious, Paige.”
“Me too.” I take in the frustration in his eyes and feel bad. I appreciate his attentiveness. “Okay. I’m sorry. I promise.”
“Good girl. Now come here.”
Even if he hadn’t touched me at all today—even if I wasn’t already so wet for him that my thighs are sticking together—the look on his face would get me there. It’s a smile so sinful, so delicious, that I whimper.
Nate touches his mouth to mine softly. Slowly, he licks across my bottom lip, then tugs it between his teeth. The sharpness of the act is in stark contrast to the way he holds me in his arms as if I’m a porcelain doll.
I dangle my arms over his shoulders.
He guides me across the room. We stop next to the bed. He grabs the hem of my shirt, and he slips it over my head.
The air is cool against my skin. I can feel the heat rolling off my body as I say a prayer of thanks that I wore pretty underthings.
“You just get better and better,” he says.
“I didn’t fully express my appreciation of your body. It’s … a work of art.”
He grins. “I gathered that by the look on your face.”
“Well, I’m glad my face doesn’t lie.”
He undoes the button on my skirt. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he pulls the zipper down with the care of a surgeon. I shimmy myself out of the skirt and kick it to the side.
I stand in front of him in my booties and underwear.
Much to my surprise, I like it. There’s not an ounce of me worried about the stretch marks on my breasts from gaining the freshman fifteen or the pooch of my stomach that hangs slightly over the waistband of my underwear.
The cellulite on my thighs doesn’t matter because Nate Hughes looks at me like he wants to eat me for dinner.
“The things I could do to you,” he says just loud enough to hear.
“Do them. I’m all yours.”
“Damn you,” he growls as he picks me up and tosses me on the bed.
I squeal as the bedsprings give and a pillow topples onto my face. I grab it, ready to toss it to the side, when I’m distracted.
Ooh.
Nate is on the bed. His knee is between my thighs, and he uses it to spread my legs farther apart. My heart begins to pound as he gets closer to my face with a glimmer in his eyes that makes them look ridiculously green.
He holds my gaze as he kneels beside me. He brings both of my breasts out of the bra, sitting them on top of the underwire. The position makes my erratic breathing more noticeable.
I gasp as he brings his mouth over one breast and palms the other.
“Oh, dammit,” I say, moaning the words. I arch my back, lifting off the mattress as he lightly pinches the exposed nipple. I think I’m going to explode.
His mouth is wet and hot as his tongue kisses and deliciously tortures me. He takes his time as if we have all night. I grab the back of his head and tug on his hair, needing relief from the tension that’s building dangerously high inside me.
He moves his hand down my stomach, around the curve of my hip, and over the front of my leg.
I hiccup a breath and close my eyes.
His fingers drag through the dampness of my inner thighs and to the swollen bud that’s screaming for attention. He dips one finger inside my opening.
“Okay,” I say, groaning from the sensations riddling me. I close my eyes, unable to keep them open as shots of pleasure come from almost every part of my body. “I’m communicating. I really, really like that. And that!” I add as he rolls his thumb over my clit. “Ah!”
He chuckles, the sound vibrating against my breast. Then he releases it and pulls his face away from me.
I shiver a full-body, head-to-toe shudder. He adds another finger, and I think I’m going to lose my mind.
“See?” He works them in and out of my opening. “When you tell me things, I know to keep going.”
“But not forever, right? We’re having sex tonight.”
He bursts out laughing. “Will you have some patience?”
“Just because you can hold yourself back doesn’t mean we all can.” I grit my teeth. “I can’t even keep myself from snacking until lunch—fuck! Don’t stop doing that!”
He presses down on my stomach as he continues to pleasure me. It makes it more intense and drives me closer to the edge.
Then he stops. My eyes fly open as he crawls off the bed.
“What are you doing?” I ask him. “I communicated. You understood.”
If the smile he’s wearing never left his face again, I wouldn’t be mad about it.
“I did understand.” He springs on the bed and lands with his face perilously close to my sex. “Now put your legs over my shoulders.”
Oh. My. God. My stomach swirls at the thought of seeing Nate’s face framed between my legs. Sure, I’ve had oral sex before, but …
“Nate, I don’t think …” I fall back against the mattress. Oh, shit.
The rush of air from his laughter sweeps against my very wet, very exposed vagina.
He presses a finger onto my clit and leaves it there. “If you don’t want me to, just tell me.”
“It’s not that,” I say, trying to block out the buildup in my core.
“Then what is it?” He blows against my opening. “Come on. Where’s the girl who usually won’t shut up?”
I lift my head high enough to glare at him.
“I can sit here and play in this all night,” he says, shoving a finger in me so hard that I yelp.
Dammit, that feels good.
“Do it,” I say before I can talk myself out of it.
“Are you sure?”
Now he’s just fucking with me.
I lift my head up and cram a pillow under it so I can see his eyes. He’s watching me with amusement as if he’s enjoying himself.
I’ll fuck with you back.
I pick up each leg, one at a time, and lay them over his shoulders. He then grips my waist and lifts me to his mouth but doesn’t make contact.
“If you don’t put your mouth on my pussy—ah!”
The first sweep of his tongue is like striking a match against a matchbook. My whole body goes up in flames.
My knees fall to the side as he licks and sucks. He tortures my clit while his fingers work magic inside my body, building me up so high that I’m not sure I’ll ever come back down.
“I love that,” I say, the words barely understandable through my gritted teeth.
The burn of bliss barrels through me so hard that it brings tears to my eyes. I give up any fight, any reservedness that I might’ve been holding on to, and succumb to the waves of sensations.
Just as I think I’m almost too high, to the point I can’t take it anymore, he slows. His fingers slip out of me. He presses a kiss to my swollen and tender bud. That alone feels so intense that I buckle.
Gently, he brings my legs to the blankets and slides off the bed.
“I think you’re ready for me,” he says, winking. Then he wipes his face with a towel by the bed.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I say as he takes off his belt. “You might need lube.”
“We’re using lube.”
I make a face. “Do you not feel how wet I am?”
His hands pause in the air. He grins so cheekily I nearly orgasm.
“Baby, I just had my face buried in your pussy. I’m pretty sure I know how wet you are.”
My cheeks flush. “Then why the lube? I was kidding.”
He removes his pants and boxers and stands before me naked. His cock stands straight, a bead of precum glistening at the top.
“Lube helps, especially for your first time,” he says, rolling on a condom. “I want this to be as comfortable as it can.”
Me too. I blow out a breath as he finishes readying himself. Don’t be nervous.
The mattress dips as he climbs on the bed.
He hovers over me, his biceps flexing as he holds himself up. I run my hands up his arms and over his glorious shoulders.
I kick my legs in the air, needing to get my boots off.
“You okay?” he asks.
“I’m fine.” The shoes fall to the ground. “Footwear problem.”
He grins. A twinge of concern flashes through his eyes before it’s replaced with confidence again.
“Here we go.” He bends down and kisses me gently. “Ready?”
I smile up at him. As long as I look into his eyes, my anxiety stays at bay, and the excitement of the moment takes over. “I’m ready.”
He places the head of his cock at my opening.
I suck in a breath and try not to squirm.
He holds my gaze with a steadiness that I appreciate. I grip his shoulders as he starts to push.
“Nice and easy,” he says.
“Okay.”
He pushes a little more, and a bolt of discomfort tears through me.
“Wait,” I say, shoving his shoulders. I squeeze my eyes closed and wait for the feeling to subside. “It doesn’t hurt, exactly. It’s just uncomfortable.”
“Take your time. We’re in no hurry.”
My chest fills with warmth. Thank God that I chose Nate for my first time.
Thank God. Thank God. Thank God.
I’m exposed and vulnerable, and both make a swell of nervousness rise inside me. But then I open my eyes and see him, and I’m okay.
“A little more,” I say softly.
He dips inside me a touch more. When I don’t stop him, he goes a little farther.
I’m full—or at least I feel that way.
“You good?” he asks.
“Yeah. It’s … annoying.” I laugh.
“Annoying? What are you talking about?”
“It feels delicious in a way. Like, I feel stretched to a point where it’s almost painful, but it’s not. I’m right on the edge of not knowing which way it’s going to go.”
He pulls back a little and slowly pushes forward.
“See? That. That feels good,” I say.
“I’m not going in all the way. I don’t want to hurt you.”
I smile at him. “The annoying part is that I need to have an orgasm, and I can’t quite get around to that because I’m not sure where this is going.”
“So you have blue balls?”
“Yeah. Whatever the female version of that is.”
He lowers his mouth to mine and slips his tongue between my lips. I grip his shoulders as he works himself in and out in a slow, steady rhythm. With every push, every pull—every thrust of both his cock and his tongue, I relax. And the more I relax, the better it feels.
“Feels good,” I say out of the side of my mouth.
He chuckles and pulls away from me without slowing his pace. He reaches for a pillow and then pulls out of me to slide it under my ass. When he enters me again, the change in angle is divine.
“Oh, hell, yes,” he rasps.
He palms one of my breasts, massaging it as he strokes himself in and out of me. With each movement, he goes a little harder, a little deeper. And with every addition of power and distance, I move higher and higher toward an orgasm.
“Do you like that?” he asks, rolling the beaded nipple with his fingers. “Because I do. I don’t know how in the hell I got lucky enough to be here with you, but I’ll take it.”
I grin. “I feel lucky too, Nate.”
He kisses me again and then places both hands next to my head. I lift my hips, giving him more access as I trust him to take care of me.
And he does.
He builds the tempo, finding a pace that makes me moan.
“There. Do that. Oh, my gosh,” I say as I try to breathe. “Do that! Nate!”
“Fuck, Paige.”
He groans, his arms flexing. I grab his biceps and squeeze hard—probably too hard, but I can’t be held accountable for my actions. I dig my nails into his skin and try not to scream.
I’m straddling the line of pleasure and pain, and it’s the most delicious experience I’ve ever had.
“Nate!” I yell his name, my voice filling the house as I reach the climax. “I’m coming. Do not stop. Don’t stop.”
My jaw aches as I bite down and try to keep my body from coming apart at the seams. My legs ache, my stomach is twisted—my head feels like it’s on fire.
His arms tremble as he closes his eyes, his jaw flexing as he falls apart too.
Watching him orgasm is almost as good as feeling it myself.
Finally, when we’re both spent, he looks down at me. My arms are lying out like a snow angel, and my legs have fallen to the side.
I think he’s going to pull out, but he doesn’t.
First, he kisses me. It’s sweet and simple but filled with something I’m afraid to name.
“Was that okay?” he asks.
“Nine out of ten,” I joke.
“A nine?”
“You made me wait too long.”
He rolls his eyes, grinning, and slides out of me. “So what kind of girl are you? A cuddler or a snacker or a don’t-touch-me-er?”
“I’m a lie here and watch you walk around this room naked kind of girl.”
He laughs as he removes the condom and deposits it in the trash. “Well, let’s get you cleaned up, and then I’ll lie beside you, and we’ll get a snack and cuddle.”
“You’re gonna cuddle with me?”
All he does is laugh.