Blake snakes his arms around my waist from behind and lowers his lips to my neck for the fifth time during our stroll back to our hotel.
As nervous as I was about the concert and the dress, I was even more worried I was going to embarrass him while he was working. Surprisingly, the complete opposite happened. My crass attitude was well welcomed by most of the drunken college kids and for those who didn’t appreciate it, his charming smile was there to soothe them over like some well-cooked up scheme. They ended up closing earlier than anticipated due to being out of product. Blake called it a victory and the two employees who had been working closest with him insisted we join the crowd while they cleaned up. We took our time walking the beach, the music far from mellow, but the moment perfect. He told me a bit more about the jobs he had before working with his brother and I hung onto every word. Blake’s not only more open than me, he’s more interesting. He’s had exploits. He’s had hilarious drunken adventures. Embarrassing moments from antics backfiring. He’s lived his life. And as much enjoyment as he’s getting from being a part of mine as I try to venture out, part of me feels like he should be with a woman more experienced. In all departments.
He drags my earlobe between his teeth and my breath is passionately bereft.
“My second favorite sound you make,” he whispers in my ear.
I hit him with a heated look over my shoulder. “What’s the first?”
He gives me a predatory smirk, slips his fingers, under my dress and gives my clit the lightest rub.
Helplessly, I brace myself against him as I whimper, “Blake…”
“That one.”
My body makes a feeble attempt to push him away. “Pain in the ass...”
Blake doesn’t bother arguing. Instead he removes his touch all together and waits for me to open the door to the beach suite he rented for the weekend. The moment I open the door my expression shifts to one of surprise. The white rose petal path perks my curiosity while Blake remains silent. My intrigue leads me to follow it while he lingers behind, leaned against the wall. Our bed is sprinkled with them as well as the white cushioned couch beside the balcony doors. On the small coffee table are a vase of white roses and a bottle of sparkling water chilling in an ice bucket. I let my eyes grab a glimpse of the heart shaped chocolate strawberry cheesecake on the table before I turn back around to him with my jaw on the floor.
Unable to question with words I motion my hand around.
“Happy anniversary,” he says, sliding a hand into his khaki shorts pocket.
“That’s not until tomorrow.”
Blake gives me a small smile. “It’s after midnight. Happy anniversary.”
With a shake of my head, I declare, “You didn’t have to do all this.”
“I did.” The correction closes my lips. “It’s been the best four months of my life. It deserves to be celebrated.”
It does. And I was actually ahead of him with an idea on how to make it significant. The moment he suggested a beach weekend getaway my brain went to the place it has been dwelling over the past month ceaselessly. When. When is the right time to take the next step? How? Do we talk about it first? Do we plan an entire weekend around it? Thankfully, Dana did what a best friend does, took me to lunch, forced a shot of whiskey down my throat for courage, and dragged me to the lingerie store. She explained how it’s best to let everything unfold naturally, but maybe bring something to initiate the idea this time will be different than the others. If I’m honest with myself, I wanted us to get to this point about a month ago, but our schedules clashing made it difficult. It didn’t seem right. After seeing this? After dancing to some rock band that had a violinist? Most importantly, after letting it naturally flow from his lips how he loves me even though we’re not having sex, the timing is perfect.
“I’m gonna freshen up,” I announce softly.
Blake’s face frowns. “Angel-”
“Patience babe…”
He grins at the pet name.
Also a random accident. We were just in the kitchen one day and I asked him to hand me a pot with the name on the end. He got so excited and turned on by it, he plopped me on the counter to feast on me as a pre-dinner treat. I know he prefers it to Tiny Dancer, but he secretly loves them both because he knows no one else in my life has ever been given a nickname.
I slip away into the bathroom where I already have the lingerie waiting. The change into it is quick, but the confidence to strut out in it, is not. For a few longer breaths than intended, I stare at my own reflection, impressed by the changes my figure has made, yet still terrified it’s not enough. I give my hair a ruffle and command myself to let go of my inhibitions. Blake’s never complained about my body. He’s never complained about having to wait for sex. He’s never complained about anything other than me worried about what other people think. I am sexy and it’s time I get comfortable acting like it.
With my head held high, I walk out of the bathroom in a white baby doll top and matching panties.
Blake’s jaw hits the floor.
His speechless reaction typically causes me to clamor up, but I make a conscious effort to fight against it. I pause, my body across from where he is sitting on the edge of the bed and allow for him to do with his eyes all the things I’m hoping he does with his hands.
Finally, he croaks, “Damn…”
A teasing smirk crosses my lips. “Poetic.”
He lightly chuckles easing a bit of the tension settled in my shoulders. “Angel, the words do not exist for how fucking amazing you look.” The compliment erases the rest. “You didn’t have to buy this to impress me…”
“And you didn’t have to decorate our room to impress me.” Blake prepares to argue and I blurt out, “Besides, I wanted you to remember our first time together and not have it blur with all the other women you’ve slept with.”
Regret on the execution of the sentence is immediate.
Yeah. Could’ve phrased that better. A lot better. Why the hell do I get so thoughtless when I’m uncomfortable? Why was that never a skill I bothered correcting?
I expect his expression to harden yet it does the unexpected and softens. “Let me start by saying you could never and will never blur with my past, Angel. You are one of a kind and there isn’t a single minute of the day I could ever forget that.” His hands fly to my hips and he pulls me down to a straddling position. “And there is no pressure to do this tonight. I didn’t do all this or say I love you, so you would have sex with me.”
Unlike him I let my irritation show. “I never accused you of either of those things.”
His mouth twitches to fight.
“I came with the lingerie, Blake. Before I saw this. Before you said you loved me and then bailed before I could say it.”
Blake’s brown eyes fill with astonishment. “You love me too?”
“Of course I love you too!”
Realizing this night is not at all the romantic one I had cooked up in my mind thanks to an uninvited slew of chick flicks from Dana, I do the least sexy thing possible. I start laughing. It doesn’t take long for Blake to join in on the action. The two of us unleash wave after wave until my side begins to hurt.
At that point, I try to steady my breathing, and shake my head. “I ruined this.”
He pushes my hair behind my ear, still smiling. “No. You made it us.”
There’s no more conversation. No more arguments. No more hesitation. Blake’s mouth melds against mine, and he holds me closer. Our tongues melt against one another and feverishly fight for dominance. The unusual passion over who rules the situation ignites an animal response in him. He groans harshly and tightens his grip. I whimper from the change in pressure, but he doesn’t back down. His tongue battles harder until he has the control over the situation he wants. Enslaved by the intoxicating efforts of his kiss, I submit to every touch he delivers to my body. Blake’s fingers gently graze my chest, lightly toying with my hardened nipples. He drops his efforts to them, imprisoning one while his hands untie the string that’s keeping the material blocking his way in place. Mere seconds after it falls, he tugs it out of his way to properly bathe the nub with his warm tongue. My eyes fall closed, and I arch into the sucking motion. His cock thumps between my thighs reminding me of the life altering transition that lies ahead.
Blake pulls back, my change in demeanor more apparent than I realize. He holds my eyes as well as my body hostage. “Angel, do you actually want this or do you just think it’s what you should want?”
“I want this.”
“Then trust me,” he commands, tone leaving no room to counter.
Once I nod, Blake completely takes over. He rolls himself on top and begins whirling his tongue against the hot spot on my neck. A sweet sigh parts my lips as well as my legs. His dedication to devouring me seems ceaseless by the way he continues to consume every inch of me possible. The feeling of his mouth traveling my skin pushes me closer to the edge inch by inch. By the time we’re both naked and his dick is covered with a condom from the box I brought, I know it won’t take much to make me explode even with the pending pain I’m certain is coming.
He adjusts himself so his head is on the pillows and begins to pull me on top of him. Sensing the objection coming, he leans up, and locks our lips back together to prevent it. Blake leads me with his tongue and guides me into his lap where he wants me. His cock pierces my pussy, yet he keeps our mouths locked tightly until he’s settled inside.
Blake pulls back and my forehead rests firmly against his. Through the panting he instructs, “Just…Take a moment to get adjusted.”
My pussy squeezes at the intrusion, uncertain whether to welcome or banish it despite my brains insistence of greeting it with love. It feels different. Unusual. Exciting yet terrifying. The muscles contract again thoughtlessly and the action receives what sounds like an uncomfortable groan.
“You okay?” I whisper.
He nods, but doesn’t open his eyes. “Feels…good.”
The racing of my heart increases. “And that’s bad?”
“Too good,” his poor explanation piques my interest.
This time, I intentionally squeeze my pussy tighter, the sound now more delectable. “What’s too good?”
Blake latches his hands onto my lower hips and meets my gaze. “You’re messin’ with me? Now?”
As soon as I nod, he falls backwards, draws his cock back and thrusts it upward slightly harder and slightly deeper. Initially I gasp, the bite of pain almost instantly tipped over to pleasure. He holds me in place and repeats the action sharply. The punishment for misbehaving feels mistakenly like a reward.
My nails cut into his biceps at the same time I moan loudly, “Oh God…”
His hungry groan rattles in his chest. “So tight…”
I smile with certainty that’s a good thing.
Blake suddenly relinquishes his harsh grip and I find myself preparing to request its return. “Your turn…”
I let my eyes lift open in question.
“You take control, Angel.”
My mouth starts to move.
“Ride me…Find what feels good.”
The invitation doesn’t feel like one I should deny. I widen my legs into a better position, which receives another pleased groan. Slowly, I begin to drift back and forth, the action engaging my clit in a very gratifying way. I moan through the experience, coming quicker than anticipated. My orgasm burns through me and begs Blake’s to join it, yet he grits his teeth to assist in his refusal. After a few deep breaths, I attempt another series of movements, these deeper than the last. For what feels like hours, Blake lets me bounce, grind, and sway with his cock’s full compliance. Each time I choose to change positions or speed, he simply groans his acceptance. The delicious difference in so many feelings from just the slightest difference has my mind spinning out of control towards another climax. When I finally return to the original motion I started with, he adds the smallest amount of pressure to my clit with his thumb. My entire body bows and I move faster in desperation to feel it again. Blake’s cock swells widening me further, creating not only a new sense of being filled, but a new feeling of commitment. His breathing becomes ragged as his entire body strains underneath the relentless rocking. The quivering in my pussy passes the point of no return, granting the orgasm I was trying to suppress, permission to flourish in full. My head falls back on a cry of Blake’s name loud enough to shake the entire room. Unable to resist any longer, he joins me, filling the moment with proclamations of love alongside his groans. He shifts back up to a sitting position, and we reunite our mouths with only the need to breathe in each other. His arms engulf me the same way his love does. I release one last sigh and accept the simple truth of why I waited so long. This moment wasn’t meant for anyone else. I’m not meant for anyone else. Just him.