10. Liana
“You don’t think we’re done here, do you?” I ask playfully, tickling his ribs.
“Absolutely not,” Tate says, breathing heavily. “That. Was. Incredible.” He enunciates each word like William Shatner.
I smile, sinking down next to him. He wraps a giant arm around me.
“Are you really a virgin?” I ask. “Or was that just a line to get me to do what I did?”
“Is that what you think of me? You think I’d lie about something like that?”
“No,” I say honestly.
Leonard and Not Mal have always steered clear of sex talk, almost like an unspoken rule. I just assumed Tate, like any twenty something jock, had banged the head cheerleader on prom night. Him telling me he’s a virgin hit me square in the lady parts.
Given what he said about his dad, I believe it.
Tate kisses my shoulder. “That’s actually the first time it’s led to anything more than a kiss goodnight.”
“Really?”
“Really,” he says. “It scares women off, like maybe I’m damaged goods. Or, I don’t know—they remember how bad first times usually are.”
“They’re usually bad for the girl, not the guy.”
“Which is exactly my point. They remember how bad their first time was and assume my first with them will be exactly like that. I can’t say I blame them. I lasted all of ten seconds in your mouth.”
“That’s not fair,” I say. “There was a lot of lead up to that. Kissing and touching. And personally, I don’t want you to spend a lot of time in my mouth. I much prefer if we take our time with other places.”
“Me, too.” He grins. “You sure you’re okay with, uh, my lack of experience?”
“I mean you are a rookie.”
The idea of taking his virginity away has rooted itself in my mind. My nipples go hard. Or maybe they go hard because Tate’s caught his second wind. He leans on his shoulder and stares at me like he did when he took my dress off. Like I’m a piece of meat he’s ready to devour.
He caresses my shoulder, fingers dropping into my cleavage. “I think you’d be more comfortable without this.”
“Touché.” I unclasp my bra, allowing gravity to do its work. They’re only unsupported for a moment before he’s on them. Squeezing, sucking, twisting my nipples in his mouth.
He goes hard again. I have no idea how. It’s big, but he’s a big guy, so I’m not really surprised. I can’t wait to feel it inside me.
Tate’s hand sneaks down my rib cage, over my hip, and dips into my thong. I’m so fucking wet. When he feels it, a low, primal growl erupts from his throat.
“I hate this,” he says.
“You what?”
He sighs. “I don’t mean it like that. I mean I hate that my hands can’t just be everywhere at the same time. I want to touch every part of you. I want to kiss every part of you.”
“No one’s stopping you,” I say.
He smiles again, maneuvering down my body, his hot breath radiating through the fabric of my thong. “Then these need to go.”
“I’m warning you now, I like to talk dirty in bed.”
“You’re warning me? That sounds amazing.” Tate shakes his head, then kisses down my stomach, making a pit stop on my hip.
“It can throw some guys off their game.”
“Good thing I don’t have a game to speak of.”
“I’ll be the judge of that, Rook. Now, shut the fuck up and go down on me like a good boy.”
My eyes roll back as he licks down the slit of my pussy. His massive hands grip the back of my thighs like they’re footballs. I’m so wet. So ready for those fingers to be inside me.
He kisses my thighs as he finds a comfortable position. Easing just one of those fingers inside, he begins to work.
My hands rake his scalp, then I maneuver his head so his tongue is directly over my clit. I don’t know where he’s learned to do what he’s doing. Maybe it’s just talent. His tongue caresses the hood of my clit until it finds an opening. He eases a second finger inside, curling them just right. A climax coils inside my belly, inching its way down like his fingers inch inside of me. There’s so much pressure, I’m about to explode. And I do. Again and again, my pussy clenches around his fingers.
When it’s done, my whole body tingles in the best way possible. The best part is, I know we’re not done. Not by a long-shot.
And it is long.
Being well over six-foot, with muscles stacked across his frame, Tate’s body is just as proportionate as I want it to be. It’s literal perfection.
He eases up the bed with butterfly kisses on my waist and rib cage. His eyes are drawn to my tits but don’t waste time on them. Instead, he’s over me, his mouth on mine, his giant erection pressed close to the entrance.
I so badly want him inside.
His tongue sweeps against mine, then his lips tenderly wrap around my lip before he pulls away. “It’s not good news,” he says.
“What’s not?”
He winces. “I don’t have a condom.”
My mind is racing. Who even needs a condom at a time like this? Oh right, the rest of the world who doesn’t want to put babies in their belly. But the thought of Tate Rushmire’s baby doesn’t put me off. In fact, it excites me.
Either way, I’m on birth control. And since Tate is a virgin, I don’t think I have anything else to worry about.
“It’s okay,” I say. “I’m on the shot.”
“The shot?”
“Birth control, Rook.”
“Right.” He grins. “So, we can…”
He must’ve already forgotten the way I talk in bed, cause it surprises him when I say, “Put your cock inside me. Let’s fucking go.”
I’m wet, but Tate’s a virgin. I don’t want him to blow his load upon arrival. He’s practiced for this his whole life. So far, we’ve only made it through pre-game. I lick my fingers, then slide them over the tip of his cock, then I guide it the rest of the way.
Inch by girthy inch, he slides inside of me, filling up spaces I didn’t know I had. I don’t know who’s on offense or defense, but it’s a good game where he drives, then I drive him back, until finally…
Touchdown.