I SHIVER when he grabs hold of my butt and hauls me up, then tosses me onto the bed as if I weigh nothing. I land with a bounce on the mattress, bracing my hands on it, so I won’t tip over, my knees bent. He stands at the foot of the bed, his gaze only for me, and I position myself in a more provocative pose, clamping my knees together before I slowly part them.
His gaze grows hot as he stares at the spot between my legs, and I can feel my panties grow damper and damper the longer he looks.
“You are a bad girl,” he murmurs. “I knew I could bring it out in you.”
I spread my legs as far as they can go, my feet planted firmly on the bed. “You like it?”
“I fucking love it.” His gaze turns molten. “Slip your hand in your panties.” Shock courses through me. “Really?” I squeak.
He nods. “Show me what you like.”
“But…you won’t be able to see where I’m touching myself.” I can’t even believe I said that. Or that I’m contemplating actually doing it.
“I like the idea of watching you touch yourself, your hand busy beneath the panties. And I can see. The fabric is sheer.”
Oh. That’s right.
Taking a deep breath, I rest my hand against my stomach, right above the top of my panties. I trace the thin band with my index finger, sliding it back and forth. The way he watches me, the way I’m teasing myself, already has my breathing coming faster. My heart pumping harder.
“Do it, Wren,” he demands, and my fingers slip beneath the thin fabric, sliding through my pubic hair. Going deeper, until I brush my clit.
I hiss in a breath, closing my eyes.
“Look at me,” he says, and I flash my eyes open once more, held captive by him. “Start stroking.”
I do as he says, sliding my fingers up and down, nice and slow, gathering up all the wetness. A whimper leaves me when I flick my clit, and then I’m sliding back down, teasing my entrance, my middle finger pushing inside, just barely.
“Are you fucking yourself with your fingers?” he asks, his voice rough. “Not really.”
“Do you want to?”
“I’d rather it was your fingers,” I admit, the need to be truthful overwhelming any bit of embarrassment I might feel at making the confession.
My touch feels good, especially with the way he’s watching me.
But it would feel even better if it was his hand between my legs. His fingers stroking me.
“Fuck, you’re hot.” He shakes his head, like he can’t believe it. “I need you to beg.”
I frown. “Beg?”
He nods. “Beg for my fingers, Birdy. Tell me how much you want me.”
“I want you so bad,” I whimper, all the shame I’ve ever experienced when it comes to this boy leaving me so rapidly, I feel weak. “Please, Crew. Touch me.”
He’s on the bed in an instant, his jeans half undone, revealing his navel and that intriguing dark path of hair that disappears into his blue boxer briefs. His erection strains against the cotton as if it’s trying to break free, and unable to help myself, I lean forward and reach out, trailing my fingers down the front of him.
Crew bites back a groan, thrusting his face in mine before he kisses me as if he’s a starving man, and I’m the only one who can ever satisfy him. His tongue thrusts rhythmically against mine, his fingers circling around my wrist and yanking my hand out from under my panties, replacing it with his own.
His touch is rough, making me cry out, but I don’t mind. He searches and thrusts, his thumb pressing against my clit at the same time he slips a finger inside my body. His finger matches the rhythm of his tongue, in and out at a rapid pace, and I cry out against his lips, the orgasm already drawing closer.
“You like that?” he whispers against my lips, and I nod, frantic. “Fuck my hand, Wren. Do it.”
I move my hips, awkward with my movements but eventually getting it. I push forward at the same time he does, wincing at first, until it starts to feel better.
So much better.
“Oh God,” I murmur, my eyes tightly closed as I do exactly as he says. Moving with his hand helplessly. Desperate to get off.
He increases his speed, shoving two fingers inside me, stretching me wider. It hurts, only because it’s so tight, and I pause in my movements, trying to calm my breathing. My racing heart.
“Birdy.” He kisses me, softer this time, his touch turning softer too. He rubs gently against my clit, sliding his fingers back and forth, coating them with my wetness before he pulls his hand out, his fingers suddenly at my mouth. “Taste.”
I part my lips and his fingers are inside my mouth. I lick them, tasting myself, a moan leaving me. I’m throbbing between my legs, so hard it hurts, and he knows it.
I’m sure he does.
“You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?”
I nod, not even caring anymore. I just want him. “Yes.”
“I’d do anything for you too,” he continues, his fingers drifting across my belly, making goosebumps rise. “Will you give me this?”
He cups me between my thighs, holding me tight, and I open my eyes, staring up at him, breathless at the darkness I see in his gaze. “Yes.”
“I want to fuck you.” I nod. “I know.”
“Do you want me to fuck you?”
Another nod. “Yes.” I close my eyes, faintly embarrassed. Even after everything we’ve shared.
“Open your eyes.” I do so, and he continues, “Tell me, Wren. Say you want me to fuck you.”
Pressing my lips together, I swallow hard before I whisper shakily, “I want you to fuck me, Crew.”
He’s pleased by me saying such a thing. It’s written all over his face. In his smile. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
I know he won’t.
“I’m going to make you come.” He kisses me. “Once. Twice. You need to relax.”
His mouth wandering all over my body does wonders for my nerves. The tension racing through me. He kisses me everywhere, removing my bra. Sliding my panties off, careful not to rip them. I melt into the mattress, at the touch of his mouth on my inner thigh. My hip. My belly button.
“You smell so fucking good,” he murmurs against my skin, just before he slides in between my legs and opens his mouth, his breath tickling my most sensitive spot when he asks, “Do you want to come?”
“Y-yes.” I slip my hands into his hair, holding him to me. Like I never want him to leave.
He laps at my clit. Gentle, soft strokes that have me moaning. He pauses, and I want to die. I never want him to stop. “Like this?”
“Harder,” I encourage, and he presses his tongue flat against me, licking and then sucking. “Oh yes. Like that.”
I’m shameless, rubbing myself against his face, his low groans only encouraging me. It feels so good, what he’s doing. He feels so good. It doesn’t take much until I’m coming, my body wracked with shivers, his name falling from my lips as I thrust my hips up, trying to get closer to his magical mouth.
He holds me to him, his mouth never wavering, his tongue lashing at my clit as I ride out my orgasm against his face. He slips a finger inside me and I arch up, closing my eyes.
“I don’t think I can take it,” I protest.
But he doesn’t let me go. A second finger joins the first and he pushes them deep inside me, pulling out before sliding back in. His tongue is everywhere, licking my still throbbing clit. Searching every part of me slowly.
Another orgasm builds, this one slower. More gradual. I keep my fingers in his hair, twisting the strands tightly, moving with him as he drives me out of my mind with his tongue and fingers. Until I’m a gasping, crying mess, coming again, so quickly after the first one.
He kisses the inside of my thigh, wiping his face against my skin before he rises up and kisses my mouth. My response is enthusiastic. I can’t get enough of him, and the heavy weight of his erection against my stomach tells me he’s ready.
He’s probably been ready since this all started.
“You taste good,” he murmurs against my mouth, making me smile. “I can’t get enough of you.”
“I want you,” I whisper, not holding back.
“I’ll be right back.” He drops a kiss on my forehead before he climbs off the bed.
I rise up on my elbows, watching as he strips off his jeans and socks before going to his bag and pulling out a box of condoms. Shock courses through me and he must see it on my face as he tears the box open.
“I was hopeful.”
The smile that curls my lips is one of pure satisfaction. I love that he was hopeful.
He plucks a condom out of the box and tosses it on the bed before he drops the box back into his duffel. He makes quick work of his boxer briefs and I watch, gnawing on my lower lip as he tears into the condom wrapper and slips the ring of rubber over his thick length.
I swallow hard, fighting the fresh nerves fluttering low in my belly. This has been fun and all, but knowing he’s about to enter me for the first time is making me apprehensive. I think of all those promises I made long ago. How I swore this would never happen.
But I’m almost eighteen, and I know what I want. And what I want is… Crew.
He glances up, catching my gaze, and he must see the fear written all over my face. Without hesitation, he comes to me, wrapping me up in his arms, our damp with sweat skin sticking to each other as he cradles me close. His hand is on my stomach, and his mouth is at my forehead. I close my eyes, savoring the closeness, not able to ignore his erection nudging against my thigh.
“Don’t worry.” He kisses my temple. “I’ll be careful.”
“Crew…” My voice fades, and I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, trying to tamp down the panic that threatens. “This is a big deal to me.”
He says nothing. Just squeezes me closer.
“I’ve never done this before, and while I definitely want to, I can’t help but feel…scared.”
Crew strokes my hair, his fingers tangling in the wild strands. “I know.”
“Please don’t ignore me when we get back to school.” I blurt out my biggest fear, and it hurts, how scary that was. My chest is so tight, it feels like it could burst. “I think I might die if you pretend I didn’t exist.”
His body stills, and he reaches beneath my chin, tilting my face up so I have no choice but to meet his gaze. “I won’t. I promise.”
There are no more words after that. Nothing decipherable, that is. Plenty of murmured sounds and soft moans as he kisses me until I can’t think. He runs his mouth all over me. Down my neck. Across my collarbone and chest. He licks and sucks my nipples, giving them so much attention, I start to become restless. My legs tangle with his, the throbbing between mine unbearable.
I want him. I want to feel connected to him.
He rises up, his fingers curled around his shaft as he drags his erection through my folds. I moan, my hips lifting, seeking more while he teases me. His brows are lowered in concentration, and when the head is nudging at my entrance, I automatically tense up.
His mouth is on mine once more, his tongue thrusting before he pulls away. “Relax,” he murmurs.
I do my best, relaxing my shoulders, imagining the rest of my muscles slowly easing. I spread my thighs wider as he fits himself more firmly between my legs, and then he’s nudging again, the head just inside, filling me. Stretching me wide. I close my eyes, wondering if this is what it feels like to be split in two.
Wrong mental path to take, I know.
He works his way in, one excruciating inch at a time, and I’m breathing deep, long exhales leaving me until he’s fully inside me.
I crack my eyes open to find Crew watching me carefully, his entire body shaking, his cock throbbing. Hot and thick and unmoving. The undeniable reminder that he’s completely claimed me.
I feel incredibly full. Like I can’t even move—and neither can he. I’m scared it’ll hurt, and maybe he won’t care. Maybe he’ll become too wrapped up in his own pleasure that he won’t pay attention to me.
“You’re so tight.” He curls his arm around the top of my head, his fingers playing softly with my hair. His gaze is tender as he studies me, but I see the strain bracketing his mouth. He’s holding himself back. For me. “I’m afraid if I move too fast, I’ll come.”
“Be careful with me,” I whisper, because that’s what I need. If he was to ram himself deep, I might cry.
He does as I ask, pulling out before he pushes back inside. I try to move with him, awkward as can be, becoming frustrated though I know it all takes time to learn. He’s patient with me, his hand falling to my hip, guiding me, and after a few minutes of false starts and stuttering stops, we’re moving together.
Slowly. Smoothly.
I’m still not fully comfortable. He still feels thick inside me, but the more he moves, the easier it gets. The looser I become. The bed springs creak rhythmically with our movement, the squeaky sound filling the room and making me smile.
“Why are you smiling?” He pauses, dipping his head to kiss me. “I don’t know.” I loop my arms around his neck. “I’m happy.”
I am. I’m so happy with Crew. Knowing he’s my first. I never thought this would happen. Not this fast. Not like this. Certainly not with him.
His smile is sweet, unlike any smile he’s ever given me before. And then he buries his face in my neck, his breath hot against my skin as he picks up the
pace. Pumping himself inside my body, the slow drag of his erection in and out starting a fresh wave of tingles washing over me.
I clutch him closer, his heart racing against mine, our mouths finding each other, tongues thrusting. The kiss is filthy. Sloppy. He’s lost all control and I’m encouraging it. Encouraging him.
“Oh fuck,” he whispers against my throat, bucking against me, his cock buried deep. His body goes tense, a choked groan falling from his lips just before the shivers take over.
He’s coming. And all I can do is hold on to him, witnessing this miracle. It’s mesmerizing to watch him, knowing that not many have seen him look like this. I squeeze my inner walls around him, causing a strangled sound to leave him, and he collapses on top of me, his weight heavy and hot. His skin sweaty and sticking to mine.
“Jesus. I’m sorry. That happened way too fast.” He’s breathing hard, his heart racing, I can feel it.
“Don’t apologize.” I drift my fingers up and down his wide back, tracing his shoulder blades. “It felt good.”
“Did you come? You didn’t.” His voice is flat, his disappointment palpable.
“I came twice already,” I remind him, kissing his forehead. I can’t stop touching him. I love having him lie on me like this, as if he owns me. It all feels so perfect.
He feels like mine.
Crew is about to pull out of my body, but I hold him to me, keeping him in place with my hand on his butt. Good lord, his muscles are hard.
“Can we do it again?” I ask hopefully.
He smiles, his mouth finding mine as he murmurs, “Hell yeah.”
