Chapter 22
Morgan
Iam tired of my virginity defining who I am. I’m over it being my value.
Now that I have no control in my life, this is the one thing that’s mine. My choice. For the first time, the mere thought of sex doesn’t feel reckless. It feels intentional. Like I’m stepping forward instead of tripping.
Jack grips my shorts and pulls them down in one swoop. I’m wearing black see-through panties. I felt guilty ordering them, but not wearing them. Not for Jack.
I hope he likes them.
He doesn’t say, just slinks them off and moves over my body, his gaze studying every inch of me like I’m a work of art. Maybe he’s memorizing it, this version of me.
The moment his lips meet my nipple, I inhale sharply. He sucks with fervor while kneading the flesh, as if he has been dying to do so. I like it. He switches breasts and flicks his tongue on the peak. The mix of stimulation is new and thrilling.
“Do you think my nipples are too big?” I ask abruptly, something I’ve always felt self-conscious about.
He looks at me like I’m insane.
“Don’t do that,” he murmurs. “Any guy would lose his mind over this body.”
He says it like a rule. Like something I should have been taught a long time ago.
He nibbles and pulls on my taut flesh with his teeth, causing heat to bloom in my hips. I gasp softly. My body responds to this man’s every touch, and I slip more into my skin.
As if he’s savoring it, he takes his time drifting down my stomach with his lips, kissing, licking, and biting along the way.
I shiver as I watch him. It’s both uncomfortable and exhilarating letting someone see me like this. Even when his mouth returns to my slit like in the car, it feels more intimate. It’s not rushed. It’s like he enjoys it, slowly dragging his tongue up and down the sensitive skin.
And he doesn’t hesitate. He moves with confidence. Somehow, he knows what my body needs.
Gently, Jack slides his finger inside my entrance and caresses my walls. I clench hard when he touches that certain spot.
I catch him smirking at my reaction.
He massages there, watching my face.
Soon, I reflexively roll my hips. While his tongue expertly tantalizes my clit, the combined sensation rockets me to a climax.
My eyes close and I moan, raw and ethereal.
When my thighs unclamp, he doesn’t smile, but he gives a firm smack on the outside of my thigh.
“That’s my girl.”
His girl.
I shudder. The words settle somewhere deep. A dream... him claiming me in my barest form, stripped of the things people usually want. No money, power, or getting closer to God.
He just wants me.
The bed shifts as he kneels between my legs, his cock fisted in his hand.
“You on birth control?” he asks.
“I have an IUD.”
Which is true. I’ve had an IUD device since my first period, thanks to Mom. Mostly in case of rape. Mom always said trauma can be hidden. A baby can’t.
“K,” he murmurs, then looks down as he spreads my lips and presses his tip against my entrance.
The sensation is blunt and intrusive, causing my heart to stutter and face to burn hot.
“Oh my gosh,” I say under my breath. I drop my head back on the pillow. I can’t look.
Pressure.
His tip presses harder.
I fill my lungs and freeze, every muscle tense.
This is it. The moment that has dominated so much of my life.
The pressure builds. My heart nearly erupts from my chest.
Suddenly—
I sit up and hook my hands behind Jack’s neck, startling him. I pull as hard as I can, leading his massive frame over my body.
The weight of him, the reality of what comes next, is terrifying. I don’t want this moment to turn into something I survive.
I have a death-grip on his head so his face is almost touching mine. My lips meet his and I whisper into his mouth.
“I don’t know if I can do this. I’m... I’m afraid.”
He pauses for a moment before giving a small nod. Then he rests our temples side by side and murmurs against my ear.
“It’s okay. I got you, baby.” His lips drag to my cheek, delivering a tender kiss. “Whatever you want.”
I close my eyes and revel in the heat of his body. This intimacy I crave. The fact he’ll stop despite being so close to conquering me.
Him. He’s everything I need at this moment.
My body eases, and I whisper, “Okay. I’m ready.”
His eyes lock with mine, and then carefully, his hips tilt in.
This time, my body surrenders to this man. The pain is like a knife stab, sharp and fast. Just a moment, but a moment that cannot be undone.
He knows the second I tear. He feels it. He pauses, jaw clenching tight and a sense of concern swirling in his piercing blue eyes.
His voice is low, compassionate.
“Not so bad, huh? You did it. You alright?”
I nod fast.
Deep down, I thought he’d be smug. Happy. Maybe even victorious he got something no one else had.
Yet, his reaction is none of those things. He was concerned.
His gaze stays on me as he moves again. My body pulses and stretches as he fills me inch by inch. When he bottoms out, a feeling of closeness swells in my heart that I didn’t expect.
Jack exhales, low and rough, then he bites and holds my neck for a beat, savoring it.
“Damn, Morgan. Your pussy just had to be perfect. Why do you do this to me?”
It’s a question, but his tone doesn’t match. It’s full of frustration. Thankfully, he doesn’t linger on it. He continues, his hips giving me a slow, gentle thrust. Again. Again. Careful and smooth.
I am tense and bear it, and steadily it feels better and better. I grip his sides and my breaths become shallow.
“Mmm,” I moan naturally.
“Such a good church girl,” he praises. “You’re taking me so well.”
I’m not.
I’m doing my best, but he’s thick, long, and going deep.
It hurts.
His speed quickens and he kneels back, moving his hips harder. Subtly, he studies my reactions. I think he’s testing what I can take.
I want to impress him. I want him to still like me after. Not discard me like Noel warned.
Therefore, I mask the pain whenever it hits. When it feels good, I make sure he knows it, and hope he keeps doing it. I’m not usually this shy, but I am now. He makes me unsure of myself in ways nobody else does. He’s everything I shouldn’t want, yet my body seems to need him like water and air.
I moan, and writhe, and claw at his incredible body, feeling his powerful muscles flex under my palms. I kiss him when he’s close. I hang onto him when I can. And I endure him when my body throbs.
Still, the pleasure and pain are sublime. We create a symphonic tapestry of breathing, wetness, and flesh-on-flesh.
Until—
Jack fists my messy hair, burying his face into the strands as he digs in fully.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice deep and shaky. “God, I love—”
As if someone slapped him, he juts back onto his haunches.
My heart beats against my ribs, loud and relentless.
He almost said it!
Love.
The word hangs between us. I feel it everywhere. In my chest, between my legs, in the space where his mouth almost said that holy phrase.
I had no idea Jack felt that way.
About me.
That he was anywhere close to feeling what I feel for him. I purse my lips, trying to restrain the huge smile that wants to break free.
However, I look up, beaming. He doesn’t make eye contact, though. Just fixes his gaze where our bodies are joined.
Then, he thrusts faster. Harder. I can feel his inner turmoil radiating like a physical force. Every thrust feels like he’s trying to outrun something, and I fear that something is me.
He even rolls me on my side, distancing himself from my gaze. His fingers bruise my hips with the fierceness of his hold. Then he really pummels me.
It stops.
I side-eye him cautiously, looking up.
His expression is stern, nearly unreadable.
He pulls out. Of course, I panic.
“Something wrong?” I whisper.
He leans down and kisses my shoulder. “Nothin.’ You did good.” He snatches his underwear and dresses.
I sit up, pulling the sheet to my neck.
He still has an erection.
Gabe didn’t after he climaxed, his just... deflated.
“Did you orgasm?” I ask.
He hesitates, then answers, “Yeah.”
I don’t believe him, and my anxiety inches higher. This is the other part I worried about. It might be as scary as losing my virginity.
It feels like he’s leaving.
“Where are you going?” I ask, but like a dam bursting, tears break free. “Please don’t go!” I beg shamelessly, but I feel stupid. I can’t help it. He didn’t climax and he’s leaving.
I didn’t give him my body just to free myself from the burden of purity. I gave it to him because I hoped for something better to take its place.
Maybe I did something wrong. Sure, he changed when he said those few words, but it can’t be so terrible to admit he loved me.