Chapter Twenty-One
Jane
When I see him at the club, in that moment before he turns and sees me, he has such a lost expression on his face that it breaks my heart. And it helps me make my decision. I don’t want to be scared anymore. I want to do this, and not just because I know he wants it, but because I want it.
Then he looks at me and the heat in his gaze is enough to send desire rocketing through me.
I’m walking toward him with only one thought on my mind: I need to touch him.
The kiss is everything I hoped it would be. It’s intentional on both parts, and for the right reasons this time. There’s no wondering why or what the other person’s thinking.
When he asks me if I’m sure, I know I’ve made the right choice. He barely takes his eyes off me as he tells a friend that he’s leaving. He just nods at Chloe, but out of the corner of my eye, I see her beaming. I tell myself I need to thank her, but there will be time for that later.
There’s a town car waiting when we leave the club, and I expect Anthony to give the driver his address as soon as he slides in next to me. Instead, he asks, “Will you be more comfortable at your place or mine?”
“I think we’ll both be more comfortable at yours,” I say. “My bed is that futon, remember?”
He gives me a wry sort of smile as he brushes back some hair from my face. “Sadly, I don’t really remember much, but I’ll take your word for it.” He wraps a lock of hair around his finger. “I don’t want you to feel any pressure. If you want me to stop at any point—”
“You will, I know.” I take his hand and press a kiss to his palm.
“I don’t want to jinx this, but can I ask what made you change your mind?” He laces his fingers between mine and rests our hands on his knee.
I know I’ll need to tell him about my past, but this isn’t the right moment. So I give him the truth, but not all of it. “Chloe talked some sense into me.” He raises an eyebrow, and I add, “She reminded me that I can trust you.”
The rest of the ride to his place is quiet. He keeps me close, tucked under his arm, our hands clasped together. I wait for the panic to kick in, for the memories to come pouring forward. I’m in a car. With a man. Who’s touching me.
When nothing happens, I force myself to think of each specific thing. Better to work on calming myself now and have it all under control by the time we get to his place, than to freak out right before we take that last step like I did before.
The flashbacks don’t come. My uncle’s face stays in the past. It’s only Anthony’s hands. His scent. The warmth of his body.
For the first time since it happened, I feel like I’m in control of every part of me.
We maintain our silence until we reach his door, but the air between us is steadily thickening. My heart is loud in my ears, my body warming as my stomach twists and churns. He won’t hurt me. He would never. He only wants to bring me pleasure. Be with me.
He leads me to the bedroom, taking me in his arms as he kicks the door closed behind us. I expect a fast, deep kiss, one that takes us right back to the place we were before I freaked out on him, but his lips are gentle against mine. He lets the fire between us gradually build as he traces my bottom lip with his tongue. I open my mouth as I push myself on my tiptoes, my arms winding around his neck. I can feel his erection pushing against my stomach, and my pussy clenches in reaction.
“Anthony,” I moan his name as he moves from his slow exploration of my mouth to planting soft kisses down my jaw, and then down my throat.
I’m barely aware that he’s undressing me until I’m down to my panties and bra and the heat of his hands is scorching my skin. Then it’s all about getting him naked, and my fingers shake as I tug at the bottom of his shirt. He takes a step back and pulls it over his head. I trace his muscles with my fingertips, feeling them jump at each pass. His body is a true work of art.
I go for his jeans next. I didn’t get a chance to see him before, and the need is almost too much. I go to my knees to help him from his jeans, then realize that I’m at a good place to try something new, something I never imagined I’d want to do. When I reach for the waist of his underwear, he sucks in a breath, but doesn’t stop me.
I swallow hard as I see him for the first time. Thick and arching up toward his stomach, he’s even bigger than I thought. For the first time, I’m grateful that those gymnastic classes at the Y when I was a kid had taken care of my hymen. Things are probably going to be a bit uncomfortable even without that added issue.
“You don’t have to—”
“Do you want me to?” I cut off his statement with a question.
He shudders and reaches down to run his thumb along my bottom lip. “Fuck, yes, Jane. But only if you—”
Whatever else he planned to say is lost in a strangled groan as I take the tip of him into my mouth. I can only get a couple inches, but based on the curses I’m hearing, I feel confident that he’s enjoying what I’m doing. I may be a virgin, but I grew up with a lot of kids who weren’t, and when there’s two or three girls in a single room, information is shared.
Information that I’m currently putting to the test as I circle his tip with my tongue, stroke the base of his shaft with one free hand while the other moves a bit lower. He puts his hand in my hair and his hips move forward, sliding a bit more of his cock into my mouth. The skin is impossibly smooth against my tongue, the flesh beneath it hard.
“Jane, sweetheart.” His voice is rough as he takes a step back. “Too much.”
For a moment, I try to follow him, wanting to feel him come in my mouth, but then I remember that there’s something else I want more.
He takes my shoulders and pulls me to my feet. I’m not there long as he eases me back on his bed. He leans over me, his mouth covering mine in a deep kiss as his hands rid me of my bra and then my panties. When he finally straightens, his eyes slide down my body, and I fist my hands in the blankets to keep from covering myself.
“Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?” His fingers curl around my ankles, spreading my legs so that he can kneel between them.
The compliment sounds like a line, but I know it’s not. I can read the sincerity in his eyes. He truly thinks I’m beautiful.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to share one of my two secrets: the one that’s a bit more relevant to the current situation. But then his mouth closes over my nipple, and all thoughts flee.
I arch my back to encourage him, pushing myself into him, holding the back of his neck to pull him closer. I cry out his name as his teeth lightly scrape the tight flesh, then curse when he takes the tip between his teeth and tugs. My eyes flutter closed when he starts to suck.
His hand slides between my thighs to stroke me, and I almost see stars when his fingers press against my throbbing, aching flesh. His thumb passes over my clit as a finger slips inside. This time, all I feel is the pleasure that comes with each stroke. The past stays where it belongs and leaves me with him.
“So sweet,” he whispers as he works his way further down my body, a second finger joining the first. “So tight.”
My hips move, rolling in circles, as he drives me crazy with his fingers, his thumb. His mouth. His tongue laps at the sensitive skin between my thighs, and I whimper. It’s too much, sensory overload, the way my body screams for more combined with his own moans. Knowing I’m turning him on just adds to my own arousal.
I arch again as I come, shivering and shuddering. I let go and let myself fly, knowing he’ll be here to catch me when I come down. It’s pure bliss.
When I come to, he’s making little patterns on my stomach with his fingers. I reach for him, skimming his taut, chiseled body, learning all the little dips and planes. He’s beautiful, perfect, and he wants me. Me! It’s the most incredible feeling, just knowing that the thick, long dick he rolls a condom down is hard because of me. I hold my arms out to him and welcome his weight as he lowers himself over top of me.
He waits, looking down into my eyes. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard it. He’s shaking with the strain of holding back, and yet he’s still taking the time to ask me that. That’s all I need to tell me that I’ve made the right choice.
“Yes.”
I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. When the pressure gets stronger, I do my best to relax as he eases his way inside. I don’t regret any of this, not one bit, even as the discomfort rounds the corner into pain and I can’t stop the gasp. While I hate the circumstances that led to my remaining a virgin, I’m glad I waited for him instead of having some awkward tumble in the backseat of a car with some random guy. He prepared me well, and it doesn’t take more than a few seconds for nature to do its work, slicking the place where the two of us are joined.
“You okay?” he murmurs, the question strained.
I nod wordlessly. I can’t speak. Tears sting behind my eyes, but they’re not tears of pain. There’s so much happening in my head and my heart, I can’t focus on just one thought or one feeling. I wonder if he feels it, too. If he understands just how much this moment means to me. Not because I have some naive romantic notions linked to my first time, but because he’s taken care of me so well.
He’s right above me, his lips skimming my forehead and cheeks and throat. I tilt my head back and he presses his face into the curve of my throat, his breath hot against my skin, but it’s a good heat, just like the pressure deep in my core as he begins to move is a good pressure, sweet and right. So right.
The whole thing is right. The way his body rests on top of mine, and the way I raise my hips to meet his steady strokes. I don’t even have to think about it. It’s instinct, deep and natural and ancient. Even that initial pain is part of it, though it’s since faded under the sweetness that comes with every perfectly angled thrust.
I run my hands up and down his back, grip his firm ass, and kiss his shoulder. I close my eyes, sinking into the sensations, letting the heat building between us carry me away to that place beyond thought or reason.
I moan, my breath coming in short little gasps as I near the edge again. He pulls back so that our eyes can meet, and I see so many emotions swirling there that I can’t name them all. Sliding his arms under my shoulders, he holds me closer. I wrap mine around his neck, my legs tightening around his waist, not a sliver of space between us. We’re together, our bodies joined as one, riding the waves of pleasure that are building and growing. He speeds up, and his breath comes faster, harder, more ragged.
“Yes…yes…Anthony, yes...!”
I’m going to come again, and this time, he’s coming with me, driving himself into me with hard, fast strokes. He grunts and pants like an animal, and I want him to, I want all of him. I scream into his neck as my body convulses underneath him. His cries ring in my ears, and I clutch him as hard as I can.
I hold him close as we float, then slowly descend back into reality. Even though he doesn’t know about my past, and doesn’t know that he’s my first, I feel like being with him washed clean everything that my uncle sullied. Now, when I feel the ghost of a touch, it will be Anthony’s. It will be his face I see. His scent and his body.
He pushes himself up a little and slides out of me. I feel a sense of loss I can’t explain, like he’s leaving. Only he’s not leaving. He rolls onto his back and pulls me close, wrapping me in his strong arms where the aftershocks make me shiver.
“Are you all right?” He skims his fingers over my arm in a soothing gesture that warms me more than any blanket could have.
I rest my head on his chest, knowing that I still need to tell him my secrets. But not yet. Soon. But not now. “I’m great,” I answer honestly. “When can we do it again?”