Chapter 9
Lia
“I want to be with you,” I whisper.
Once the words are out, I don’t have time to regret them or over-analyze them. His lips are on mine. And when his tongue seeks entrance, I open for him.
He takes over the kiss, guiding me with hungry flicks of his tongue and just the right amount of suction. And when he moves closer, I moan when our bodies press together.
Nick walks me backward until my legs hit the mattress of his bed. Taking my shoulders, he guides me to sit down. Then he’s there, in front of me again. He’s kneeling between my spread knees. My legs part to make room for him.
My hips lift of their own accord. He groans and trails his fingers up my bare thighs until they’re flirting with the hem of my shorts. With every other man, this is when anxiety kicks in. This is when I retreat, when I want to slow things down.
This time, I want to speed things up. I want his hands to slip under the material of my shorts, or better yet, take them off. I scoot closer.
Nick pulls back. We’re both panting. For the first time in my life, I’m desperate enough to beg. “Please.”
He lets his head fall back as a growl drifts up to the ceiling. Then he closes his eyes and takes two deep breaths. He’s going to put a stop to this. I know he is. So when his face is once again level with mine, I kiss him.
Kissing is something I’ve done a lot of, something I’m confident in doing. But that doesn’t mean I’m used to instigating it. I’m not. I’m shy by nature. I like it when the guy leans in and I accept what he’s offering. This isn’t that. This is me taking.
I wrap my arms around him and press my body to his. The friction of his chest moving against mine, the pressure of his firm muscles pressing into my stiff nipples makes me moan and writhe against him.
I tilt my hips forward, and that’s when I feel how hard he is. This would normally be another hurdle that would make me freeze, but I don’t. I rub myself against him in the hopes that he’ll move things forward. I want him to touch me, to fuck me.
He pulls back, but not far. He’s still close enough that our panted breaths mingle. He cups my chin and runs the pad of his thumb back and forth just under my bottom lip.
“Lia. From what you said, you just broke up with someone because you didn’t want to have sex with him.
You’re tempting me beyond reason with your mouth and your little thrusts against me.
And now that I know exactly what you look like naked, it’s way too easy for me to picture you laid out on my bed. If you want things to stop?—”
“I don’t. I want more. I want everything, but I want it with you.”
He takes my mouth again in a hungry kiss. And as he distracts me with his tongue, his fingers hook into the waistband of my shorts and panties and tug. I lift my hips, letting him slide them down and off.
As soon as he tosses my shorts aside, Nick’s lifting my shirt up over my head. I help by reaching around to unhook my bra. When my bra hits the floor, it leaves me completely naked before him.
“Lie back, relax,” he says as he puts a palm on each of my thighs and spreads me open.
I lie back, but I can’t relax, not when his face is right there. He presses a kiss to my inner thigh. My insides clench in anticipation as a whimper escapes from my pinched lips.
But there’s something different about this time. I have no desire to push him away or cover myself up. I don’t feel fear or anxiety, only anticipation. I want this. I want him. But I have no idea what I’m doing from this point forward.
Luckily, he takes that out of my hands. I want him to show me what he likes, to show me what feels good. To show me how to make him come.
His tongue rasps up the lips of my pussy. I pull in a deep breath because even this is better than anything I ever imagined. And when his flexed tongue delves inside me, I have to grab onto something.
One hand flies up and grips the only thing I can find, the bedspread. My other hand slides down into the dark strands of his hair. When I grip his silky locks in my hand, he groans.
My back arches. The cool air of the room tickles the tight tips of my nipples, making me shiver. His tongue slides in and out of me in an age-old rhythm, like the beat of a heart. Inside me, his tongue swirls.
He pulls back a little. I try to use my grip on his hair to keep him right where he is. Then one of his long, thick fingers traces my opening once, twice, and finally presses inside.
“Please,” I beg.
“I like it when you beg for me. Fuck. I can feel how much you like that. So tight.
I moan. “Please.”
Now there are two fingers inside me, stretching me.
With heavy-lidded eyes, I watch him. His gaze is locked on where his fingers disappear inside me.
I bite my lip and groan at the pleasure of it.
I think he wants to fuck me. I hope he wants to fuck me because that’s what I want. I want my first time to be with him.
That thought, that fantasy, has something coiling so tight inside me. I’m already close.
“So wet,” he whispers as he leans closer.
The tip of his tongue rasps up and down my clit. I suck in a sharp breath because… holy shit, that feels good.
I start chanting, begging. “Please, please, please. Please, I need…”
The wetness of my skin and the cool breeze blowing in from the lake through the open window has kept me cool. But then his hot mouth engulfs me. He sucks my clit, pulling on it as he circles it with his tongue.
Something bursts inside me. It’s too powerful to be called pleasure, but it’s not pain. It takes over every corner of my mind, tying me to this moment, to the feel of his hands and mouth. My vision goes white. Then everything’s a blur of color as I spasm and shake and scream.