Chapter Sixteen
Molly
It happened as unexpectedly as that first kiss. One second he was staring at me with some unrecognizable emotion flitting through his eyes, and the next his lips had descended on mine, and he was kissing me passionately.
There was no lead up to the kiss, no caution in the way he approached me. There was no subtlety or hesitation. There was no build up and no anticipation. It happened all at once.
I could feel his hands on my body; his lips pushed hard against mine. I could hear the grappling of his breath mixed in with mine. I could feel his tongue, warm and sweet with the taste of eggnog and rum, against my mouth.
This kiss was much like the first one: bold, hard, passionate, and intoxicating, but everything was heightened somehow. It was as though the six years between our first kiss and this one had made everything come into living color.
I could feel my heart pounding against my chest, I could feel goosebumps prickle my skin, and I felt almost as though I could hear Tristan’s heartbeat, too. My body was alive with need and desire, and I could sense that he was battling with the same untenable emotions.
When we broke apart, we were both panting deeply, as though we had just taken part in a hundred-mile sprint. My lips felt sore and raw, and Tristan was looking at me intensely. I thought I saw a conflict in his eyes, but couldn’t be sure. I wasn’t about to let this moment pass. I wouldn’t allow him to simply walk away from me now—not after all this time, not like he did the last time.
I took his hand and pulled him along to my suite. Surprisingly, he came without a fight. I could sense a little shock mixed in between us. We were both shocked at what had just happened, and now that it had happened, it almost felt like it had been inevitable.
Tristan followed me inside. We walked to my bedroom together. I didn’t bother turning on the lights because I had left the blinds open and the light from the sky and the ocean flooded the room and bathed it in romantic blue light. When I turned around to face Tristan, he was looking at me with an unreadable expression on his face.
We stared at each other for a moment.
“I shouldn’t be here,” he said slowly, breaking the hypnotic silence.
“Then why did you come?” I asked, challengingly.
He looked down for a moment. “Because I’m weak.”
“You’re a fool,” I whispered. “This moment is six years in the making.”
He seemed to agree because he took a step towards me. Then he stopped abruptly, as though shocked by his own presumption.
I could taste every single daydream I had ever had about Tristan. They were separate little jewels that I’d held close to heart in all those years of absence. Was it possible to fall in love at first sight? I wondered. It certainly seemed like that had been the case for me.
I didn’t care to decipher what it all meant, however. For now, I just wanted to be with Tristan. I wanted to put aside the daydreams and experience the real thing. I wanted to have something real to hold onto if I ever found myself on my own again.
I reached behind to the back of my dress and undid my zipper. Then slowly and deliberately, I pulled the dress down off my shoulders and pushed it down from my waist until I was standing before him in nothing but my black lace bra and panties. His eyes caressed my body, looking over every curve and every line as though he were an artist studying his canvas. I reached up to unhook my bra.
“Don’t,” Tristan said, and my hand froze over the hook.
For a second, I thought he was going to hand me my dress and walk away. But instead, he approached me slowly until his face was only inches from mine. Then he put his arms around me and unhooked my bra himself.
He pulled it off and gazed down at my breasts. One hand reached out tentatively, and he cupped my right breast in his hand before circling the nipple. I felt a moan on my lips, but I suppressed it.
He pulled me towards him so that my breasts were pressed up against his chest. Then he started kissing me again as his hands snaked down my body. As the kiss grew deeper and more desperate, I felt Tristan hook a finger around the thin strap of my underwear and yank it hard, pulling it free from my skin. Moisture pooled between my legs at the gesture, and my knees went weak.
We fell back onto my bed, with Tristan lying on top of me. His weight was comforting as I clung to him, wondering what it would feel like when he was inside me. He seemed to be thinking the same thing because he started stripping.
I reached up and helped him pull his shirt off. Once his pants were off, I could feel how hard he was already. I reached down and encircled his cock with my hand. He gave a little sigh, and I squeezed a little harder. I saw his mouth turn into a circle of pleasure, so I started moving my hand up and down the length of him.
His cock was so huge that had he been any other man, I might have been a little scared. Had he been anyone else, I might have thought twice about this.
But I was past feeling scared or nervous or worried. I was past self-consciousness and awkwardness. This was no daydream, and I didn’t want to waste this moment by getting inside my own head.
I could feel his hands between my legs, getting me ready and I started to feel the confession rise to my lips. No, I thought, I can’t tell him. But my thoughts could not be quelled. I knew I had to tell him if I wanted to continue.
He was breathing deeply. His hands were raking over my body, and his lips were on my neck, my breasts, and my stomach. I could sense the urgency of his desire and knew he was ready to enter me. I could just feel the tip of his penis between my legs when I blurted out the secret I had held close to heart since my adolescence.
“I’m a virgin.”
I knew he hadn’t heard me. He was too turned on, too intoxicated by the moment, but I needed him to know before it happened. I didn’t know why it was important to me, it just was.
“Tristan,” I whispered again, and this time he looked up at me.
“Yes?” His voice was gravelly.
“I’m a virgin.”
His expression didn’t change, but I thought I noticed a flicker of something in his eyes. “That…can’t be,” he said at last.
“It’s true,” I confirmed.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I want you to know,” I said simply. “I wanted to be truthful.”
“Should we be doing this?” he asked. I could feel his body tremble against mine.
“Yes,” I said, with certainty. “We should.”
“But—”
“I want you,” I said. “Do you want me?”
“Yes,” he said, and his voice trembled with desire.
“Then that’s all that matters,” I insisted. “I want you inside me. I want you inside me now.”
He hesitated for only a second before pushing himself inside me. I gasped out loud, clinging to his body to try to tame the torrent of emotions that assaulted my body. I had never experienced anything quite so powerful. I could feel beautiful emotions, but just underneath there was a tiny web of pain that interweaved through the desire. After only a few seconds, however, it passed and was replaced by a new wave of need.
I could feel his cock inside me, pushing deep in before pulling back out again. If I had been scared that he was too big, all my fear turned to delight when I realized I could handle it. Not only could I handle it, it was the most satisfying feeling I had ever experienced.
Tristan moved slowly at first, giving me time to adjust to all the new feelings being catapulted at me. And then suddenly, almost without warning, he started pumping me hard until my whole body was shaking and grating against the sheets.
And after several minutes, I started to notice a strange build up. I started feeling everything more intensely; I started becoming aware of new things. There were layers of different sensations, and they started piling on top of one another. There was ecstasy, satisfaction, comfort, harmony, desire, passion, and carnal need. I had never felt so alive, nor had I ever felt so connected to my body.
From the simplest form of pleasure, which was the feel of his naked skin against mine, to the most complex, which was beyond me to even try and explain, I could feel the layers of pleasure start to unfold. So this was what people craved… This hopeless, intoxicating, animalistic culmination of sexual pleasure.
As the orgasm hit me, I kept seeing images of the ocean in my head. Perhaps it was where we were, perhaps it was just the natural association in my head, but I just kept seeing waves that reached the sky, crashing against the shores that never ended.
As Tristan relaxed onto my body afterward, I kissed his neck and licked the tiny droplets of sweat off his skin with my tongue. His body shuddered at my touch, but I continued until he was grabbing me and pressing me as close to him as it was possible to get. We lay next to each other and stared into one another’s eyes for what seemed like an eternity. He didn’t speak, and I didn’t either. There was nothing we could have said at the moment that would have eclipsed what had just happened between us.
So we lay there on our sides, facing one another, memorizing each other’s faces and trying to freeze the moment and commit it to memory so that we would never lose it to time. From time to time, Tristan would reach out and touch my face gently. His expression was unreadable, but I didn’t trouble myself with what he might be thinking.
Keep this night perfect, I told myself, and deal with tomorrow’s problems tomorrow. Once our bodies had cooled down, I started feeling new desire replaced the old. I moved closer to him and placed my hand around his cock. I massaged him until he was hard again, and then we fucked once more.
It was different the second time around. It was more than just carnal desire. It was more than just physical lust. It was validation. It was hope. It was the dream I’d been chasing since I was fourteen.