Little did I know, he’d never do that. Until now.
“Fuck, Green.” He breathes harshly against my face. “I waited so long for this, I don’t even know how to start and finish with you.”
“Then don’t finish,” I murmur.
“You bet I won’t. I’ll fuck all this wasted time out of you.”
I lean over to his ear and whisper, “I’ve waited so long for you, too.”
That’s all I get to say as he slides inside me in one go. It begins slow, but as soon as he’s sheathed all in, we both let out a long exhale.
I wait for that sting people say happens the first time, but it’s barely there. Or maybe I’m too lost in the moment and drunk on Xander to feel it.
There have been times where I’ve lain in bed and imagined how it would be, my first time, I mean. Whether it was fast, slow, passionate, or emotional, it didn’t make a difference. Because in all those times, Xander’s face was the only one that appeared.
No fantasy could’ve prepared me to the way he’s taking it easy and being gentle. To the way his entire body is getting accustomed to mine. To the way he’s holding my back with strength but also care.
But I don’t need care right now.
I need him to take me, to make me feel how much he wants me and to prove that he has indeed thought about me before.
“Harder, Xan,” I breathe out.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I want you to hurt me.”
He chuckles, the sound like music to my ears. “My bossy Green is back, isn’t she?”
“Yes. Now do it.”
“I’m big and you’re too fucking tight,” he rasps. “It might hurt for days.”
“I want it to hurt for days.”
“Fuck me.” His blue eyes twinkle with mischievousness. “Why do you want it to hurt for days? So you can remember us?”
I nod.
His smirk coupled with those dimples might’ve secretly slaughtered me. “You won’t have to, because I won’t stop for days.”
A flash of emotions covers his face as he kisses me while picking up his pace. He’s right, I’m too tight, and because of that, each thrust hurts. But it’s the pleasurable type of pain, the type that pulls me in deeper with every second.
My breathing picks up and my nails dig into his golden hair as his hips jerk with the force of his thrusts. My back pounds against the wall and a wave forms at the bottom of my stomach, strong and unyielding.
“Xan… Oh, God…”
“Oh, fuck, fuck!” he grunts against my lips. “Are you close?”
“I think so.”
He reaches a hand between us and flicks my clit, adding a maddening pressure to my pussy. “I can’t hold it in anymore.”
“Neither can I.”
The heels of my shoes dig into his arse as he rams into me with harshness so violent, it makes me delirious for a second, unable to remember where the hell I am or what I’m doing.
His hips jerk over and over, like he can’t control the force thrumming in him.
“I’ve wanted you for so long, Green. For so fucking long.”
“So have I,” I admit through a moan.
“I wanted you even when I shouldn’t have.”
“I don’t care.”
“I wanted you to be mine so much it hurt.”
“You did?”
“I wanted to kidnap you to somewhere no one knows us and fuck you until we could no longer move,” he confesses against my mouth. “I wanted to take you from the world and keep you for myself.”
So why didn’t you?
I don’t say those words aloud since a harsh wave snaps inside me. It’s sudden and wild and before I know it, I’m drowning in it.
His scent is the only thing I breathe, a little bit like an ocean, a lot like mint, and so much like belonging.
Xander has always been the one I can belong with, the only one I’ve never felt as if I should pretend in front of.
He’s been my knight, my anchor. My one and only.
I’m slowly coming down from my wave when I feel something warm dripping down my thighs.
He stares at me with an apologetic expression, even though lust still lingers in there. “I’m surprised I lasted this long with how much I’ve been fantasising about you.”
I bite my lower lip, then release it at the corner. “You’ve been fantasising about me?”
“All the damn time. It drove me fucking insane.”
My fingers get lost in his hair as I peek at him through my lashes. “Even when you were with others?”
“What others?” He brushes his lips against mine. “You’re my first, Green.”
30
Kimberly
“You’re a virgin?” My eyes widen as I ask for the hundredth time. “Really?”
“Lay off, would you?”
“No, I need details – all of them.”
“Details? Really, Green? Besides, you’re kind of distracting.”
I glimpse down at myself and realise that after he carried me to bed, he stripped me as I continued to ask him about the bomb he dropped earlier.
I’m currently kneeling between his legs as he throws his shirt behind his back and kicks his trousers and boxer briefs away. We’re both stark naked like when we used to take baths together as toddlers.
It’s different now, though, and it has something to do with his semi-hard cock that I can’t stop staring at.
The only reason I break eye contact is because of the dark look in his eyes. So many promises lurk in there, taunting, luring. My skull tingles in anticipation and my thighs unwillingly clench.
It’s strange how I’ve stopped thinking about my body in front of him, or rather, how he sees me. It’s because of the way he looks at me, I swear; it’s so full of heat and want, there’s no room for those nasty doubts.
A part of me wants to dive into his arms and never resurface, but my curiosity needs answers first.
Wrapping the sheet around me, I lean over so my entire front is glued to his. The thin cloth is the only barrier between us. “Better?”
The groan that leaves his throat is so manly and raw. “You’re killing me, Green.”
“I’ll stop if you tell me.”
“Maybe after round two.”
“No.” My fingers splay on his chest and I run the tips of them over his nipple. It’s hard like the rest of him.
“For starters, stop doing that or I’m coming all over your sorry excuse of a sheet.”
I still my hand but don’t remove it. “So it is like the articles say, male nipples are also sensitive.”
“What type of articles have you been reading?” His tone is amused.
“You know, stuff.”
“What type of stuff?”
I blush. “Sex stuff.”
“Sex stuff, huh?”
“That’s how I keep myself knowledgeable. Happy now?”
He chuckles, and I can’t stay mad or pouting when he does that. It’s like a happy song. My own happy song that only I know its lyrics.
“I’m actually not surprised.”