Total pages in book: 188
Estimated words: 179812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 899(@200wpm)___ 719(@250wpm)___ 599(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 179812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 899(@200wpm)___ 719(@250wpm)___ 599(@300wpm)
At this, I come.
I have to. The thought of him using my body to give himself relief turns me on so much that I can’t help but climax, arching my spine and throwing my head back, moaning out his name. Clutching his shoulders to pull him even closer, digging my heels into his thighs so I don’t get washed away with the wave of my orgasm.
I feel his mouth open and panting on the side of my neck, just under my ears. “I can’t… I don’t know how to…”
I shake my head, tightening my limbs around him, my eyes blinking. “Don’t stop.”
His chest pushes into mine. “But if I don’t then—”
“I know,” I whisper back. “I want it.”
At this, he moves away from me a little bit and lets my ass go. He frames my face with his rough hands as he rasps, “Look at me.”
Panting, I obey. I blink my eyes open and try to focus on him. When he’s satisfied, he squeezes my cheeks and rumbles, “You know what you’re asking me to do?”
I dig my nails in his shoulders and lick my lips, all swollen and kissed. “Yes.”
“You’re asking me to fuck you,” he says, looking down at them for a second, as if he doesn’t believe me, or rather, he doesn’t think I know what I’m saying.
My pussy clenches and I jerk. “Y-yes.”
His chest moves with a harsh breath. “Up against a tree.”
I move my hands away from his shoulders and put them on his face, all hard and flushed. So beautiful. “Yes.”
He licks his lips too, as if in anticipation. “When this is your—”
“Yes,” I tell him, noticing his lips are just as swollen and stung-looking as mine. “Because I know you’ll make it g-good. I know you’ll make it your mission to make my first time more than good.” I place a soft kiss on his lips, soft and barely there as I keep whispering, “Because I trust you, Shepard. I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone.”
Because I love you.
And when all he does is stare at me, his hands still on my face, his chest frozen too, only his eyes moving back and forth between mine, I go to say something, but he doesn’t let me. He swallows down my words because he can’t bear to hear them, can’t bear to see the absolute trust shining in my eyes or because he doesn’t need any more convincing; I suspect it’s the former. And then he proceeds to make it good.
Or at least, that’s what it feels like he’s doing when he starts moving for me.
No, not moving. Dancing.
God, he’s dancing for me, isn’t he? With his hips, going up and down, rubbing his dick against my core. He’s never done that before. In all this time, I’ve always been the one to move. I’ve been the one to dance, either by myself or because he makes me. But this is the first time he’s moving for me. He’s writhing against my body, twisting his pelvis, hunching his abs, moving them like a wave, like a male stripper would.
And it’s so magnificent and phenomenal and practiced,so unexpected that he’d take care of me this way that I jerk and twist in his hold, coming and coming. And he doesn’t stop with wringing only one out. He keeps moving, grinding, writhing for me, all the while kissing me up top, eating my mouth and drinking from my tongue and like a puppet, his slut and his whore, I keep obeying the commands of his body and keep climaxing until I lose all track of time. I lose all sense of the space, of myself.
My whole world is him and his body, the way he moves, the way he kisses me. The way his hands are all frantic on my face and my hair. The way his chest is dragging against mine, making my breasts feel heavy and my nipples so hard.
The next time I’m conscious enough to feel something is his hasty movements down below. His hands, now moved away from my face and my hair, pushing my dress up my thighs; his fingers brushing against my panty-covered pussy, all hot and impatient and yet somehow completely patient. He shoves my useless panties aside and I feel the night air brushing against my heated core, followed by the jangling of his belt and the rending of his zipper opening.
I get a moment to feel the hard, heated length of his cock, grazing my fluttering pussy before it’s going inside me. And no, it doesn’t really go inside me. He shoves it in. In one, single stroke. In one single stroke, he rips through my virginity and is seated all the way in.
I know why he did it that way. I do. I may not have known or remembered the kissing part, but this I know. It’s like ripping off a band-aid. My friends told me. Tempest and Meadow, even Callie and Echo, and the rest of my St. Mary’s friends. They said it’s easier that way. If they break you in hard and fast. But I think they were wrong. I think I’d like to hunt them down and shake them. I’d like to tell them that no, it’s not. It's not easier this way.