Chapter 13
Nicholas
She’s a virgin.
Fuck – she’s a virgin.
I don’t know why I’m surprised. The always-shy eyes and constantly blushing cheeks should have been a dead giveaway. But I guess that after I found her naughty little manuscript, I ruled out the possibility that someone with such a filthy mind isn’t actually writing from experience.
Now that I know that precious, little Blakely has never given herself to another man, I should stop. I should stop kissing her, stop touching her. But I don’t want to. I don’t think I can.
I want to be the first man, the only man to get inside of her. The desire is so strong, so territorial.
I want to see the look of pain and pleasure and abandon in her eyes as my cock tears through her innocence. I want to plunge my shaft between the lips of her pussy and drown in a heat that no man has ever felt before.
But I know I shouldn’t want that.
My self-restraint finally wins out. I take a step away from her, letting my hands fall away from her body.
She’s a virgin.
“Please, don’t stop, Nicholas. Don’t stop kissing me.” A chill skitters across my skin when I hear her begging for me. I can hardly believe my ears.
“What?”
“Don’t stop kissing me just because I’m a virgin,” she pleads in her quiet, understated way.
And man, hearing her beg is the best. It’s almost as if her words are reaching into my pants to give my cock a firm tug. The difference between right and wrong go down the spin cycle as I grab hold of her and hoist her roughly onto the washing machine. There’s so much urgency in my movements, so much lust.
But Blakely doesn’t seem taken aback at all. She’s right there with me, roughly grabbing hold of my face and crushing her sweet lips to mine. I feel more alive than I ever have. I’m completely desperate to taste every part of her. Settling between her thighs, I clench her fiery hair in my fist and pull her neck back. A sound so primal, so raw escapes her lips when I grate my teeth along her throat. I suck on her flesh with no regard for the fact I’ll bruise her tender skin, leaving marks and sore spots behind. A thrill runs up my spine when her fingers find their way under my shirt and claw their way up my sides.
The machine switches cycles and I feel a wicked desire tightening in my stomach. I shove my hands under her ass and pull her pelvis closer to mine. I angle her body for the perfect contact, thrusting hard against her center. Her moan fills the air. She abandons herself to me.
I can feel how much she wants me. I can smell it in the air. Even through the layers of clothing separating us.
And suddenly, this – making out with her on the washing machine – isn’t enough.
I pick her up and she wraps herself around me. I push aside everything on the kitchen table. It all falls to the floor like a clichéd movie scene. I lay her down on the table and now she’s spread out for me. Like a crazed caveman, I grab at the legs of her pants, pulling them down her body. Her pale, shapely thighs are bared to me and when her legs fall open, there’s a visible wet spot at her core. Yes, her arousal is seeping through the crotch of her pink cotton panties.
“Fuck, Blakely,” I groan, “you’re killing me right now.”
She writhes on the table, her body begging for me. “Touch me, Nicholas.”
I don’t waste a second. I push her panties aside and find her pussy, silky and wet. After just a few strokes, my hand is completely coated, soaked in her juices. “God. This is insane,” I mumble, “You’re so fucking ready for me.”
I lean over the table and kiss her, swallowing her groans as my fingers circle her pulsing clit. She holds my head in place, almost like she’s afraid that I’ll stop, that I’ll change my mind.
Not a chance.
She grinds her greedy pussy against my fingers as pleasure surges within her. A tortured scream rips from her throat. “That’s it, Princess. Don’t hold back.” With my free hand, I cradle her breast, massaging it tenderly as she comes for me. It’s a long and hard climax that turns her trembling body red.
I rip off my shirt and my pants as she recovers, lying there all beautiful and satiated with her crazy hair and her sweaty skin. But when I step out of my boxers and climb on top of her, angling my rock-solid cock over her pussy, something instantly changes in her face.
Blakely recoils, panting, and looks at me with wide eyes. “Are you going to fuck me?” The vulnerability in her voice, the innocence on her face – they jolt me.
What the fuck is wrong with me? Am I about to take this sweet girl’s virginity on the fucking kitchen table? What the fuck, you Neanderthal!
I stumble off of her, running a hand over my mouth. “Shit – I’m sorry,” I mutter feeling like an asshole, “I got carried away.”
Blakely rises up, propping herself up on her elbows. She purses her lips and jams her thighs shut. “I – I – it’s okay,” she stutters, “I got carried away, too. I just – I’m sorry. I –”
“No, don’t apologize.” She’s done nothing wrong. I’m the one who obviously can’t control myself. One taste of her and I’ve completely lost my mind.
She climbs gingerly off of the table and crouches to gather her pants from the floor. “I’m sorry, Nicholas. I really am.”
And she scurries away to her bedroom.