Chapter Eight

Georgina

 

 

“Hi,” I said, standing on Blake’s doorstep. I was cool, calm, confident, and hadn’t just rushed over here with my heart pounding so hard that I almost forgot how to drive. Nope, tonight I was List Georgina, and List Georgina was Brave Georgina.

“Hi,” he replied.

A moment of silence stretched out, then Blake stepped aside and ushered me in.

There was a bottle of champagne, two mismatched wineglasses, and a bouquet of roses on the coffee table. The lights were dimmed, and he had cleaned up.

“I understand the alcohol. Good call. But why the roses?”

“I know you said you didn’t want anything special, but I just thought this might help the whole … procedure.” Blake cringed and ran his hand through his hair. “We’ll take it easy on the alcohol. Just enough to calm nerves.”

“You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”

He chuckled softly. “Don’t think I’m not nervous, too. There’s a lot of pressure and expectation. I haven’t been someone’s first since I was sixteen. And also, there’s all of this hotness to deal with,” he said, gesturing to my body while biting his bottom lip. “I just want you to enjoy this. I don’t want to hurt you at all.”

“You know, the whole hymen-popping thing is a myth, really. Hymens don’t work that way.” What was I saying? Blake looked highly amused. “Shut up. I’ve just been reading up. Fine. Watching YouTube videos. Whatever.”

Blake looked even more amused. “Videos, hey?”

I flushed red all over. “So, alcohol?”

With a leering grin that made me giggle, Blake poured a drink for each of us. Pressing one glass into my hand, he clinked his own against it. “To first times.”

Blake wore a plain black T-shirt that fit tight against his body, and large, baggy jeans. I was already thinking ahead to if I was meant to undress him and how I was meant to do that, and what he looked like under those clothes. I’d seen the top half. I was nervously excited about the bottom half.

I downed my first glass of champagne in three huge gulps. It was good, and left a warm trail from my throat to my belly. Before I had time for it to absorb, Blake leaned in and kissed the last drip of champagne off my lips.

I kissed him back, and we stood there like that for minutes, exchanging slow, burning kisses that left me breathless and flushed. His fingers slid up my neck, caressing it and then my earlobes before moving up to my scalp. He tugged at the comb holding my hair and it tumbled down onto my shoulders. He brushed the strands away from my neck. His tongue flickered over my throat, resting on the point of my pulse.

I could feel it, my life, resting there against his flesh. His tongue withdrew and his full and sensual mouth laid a trail of butterfly-soft kisses from that pulse point to the valley between my breasts. Blake was practically kneeling before me with our height difference, and when he stood up again, he wrapped an arm around my legs and shoulders and scooped me up with him. He lifted me like I weighed nothing and carried me up the stairs to his bedroom.

Tiny points of light flickered around us. LED candles were spread across every flat surface. The room was tidy and the bed made, a handful of red rose petals thrown on the covers. On the nightstand sat a single condom. I smiled a little, grateful Blake had the insight to not put a whole box out there.

Blake laid me down on the bed, then knelt next to me, leaning across my body. The sheets weren’t satin, or white, but I was already so blown away by the effort he’d made. I couldn’t expect him to be a mind reader too. And I didn’t want him to be.

I had worn a halter dress without a bra, and he kissed the exposed flesh of my cleavage. Blake followed the line of the dress straps, then hesitated. “May I?”

I didn’t reply, just reached around and tugged the ties loose.

I lay still while he pulled my dress away, down over my legs. It made a whispering rustle as it dropped to the floor. I wished I hadn’t chosen a halter dress. Just one item of clothing gone and there I was in nothing but high heels and black lace panties. Blake still had so many clothes on. It seemed unfair. I brought my hands up and covered my nipples.

Blake’s hands still rested near my ankles, and he gently slipped my shoes off.

My glassful of champagne was kicking in, and everything got fuzzy. I felt like I should do something. Should I be taking off his clothes? Should I be helping him take off my clothes? Do I look okay without my clothes? I can’t believe I’m doing this. This wasn’t the first time I’d dreamt about. Our bodies, this room, our actions, it looked and felt the part, but it was just window dressing, fake. Is this a mistake? Then Blake kissed a soft spot on my thigh, and all doubts left me. It was all I could do to keep breathing.

He moved back up my body and grabbed both of my wrists, bringing my hands away from my breasts and forcing them down on the bed on either side of my head. He wasn’t rough, but he was so strong I knew if he wanted to be forceful with me, I’d be helpless. That thought scared me, but before I could react, Blake had let go, trailing his fingers along my arms and down my sides. His hands cupped my breasts, and his tongue and teeth played against my nipples until I arched my back, crying out as heat grew and spread between my legs.

Blake seemed to be moving slowly, caressing one part of my body at a time, but a fire rushed through me and I no longer wanted slow. I clutched the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it up his chest. He grabbed it as well, lifting it over his head.

His chest gleamed and rippled with muscle. He wasn’t sharply chiseled, just thick and strong. My eyes wanted to trace every single inch of him and they did. “Sooo … biiig …”

“Sorry?” he asked.

“Nothing!” I can’t believe I said that out loud.

A soft, grunting noise came from somewhere deep in Blake’s throat as he looked down at me, and his fingers slid between the waistband of my black silk panties and my skin. I gasped as his fingers tickled and stroked at the sensitive spot there, and a powerful feeling built inside me.

So that’s what the clitoris is all about. I’d felt around down there before—who hadn’t? But I’d never really succeeded in anything. I guess it turned out that bud needed a bit of love to blossom.

My panties slid down. I closed my eyes, allowing Blake to take them away from me. When they were gone, I pulled my legs together, scared of being so visible.

Blake slid his hands up my legs, easing them open again. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to do anything except relax. If you ever want to stop, just tell me.”

His fingertips reached the tops of my legs, the join between them, tickling against me. “I don’t want to stop,” I gasped.

Dipping his head, Blake’s lips grazed my navel, and then his tongue licked my most sensitive area. It created intense bursts of craving in me. I could feel him bring a hand close and then he slid one finger inside me. Inside me. It felt so strange, yet so good. I could feel it when he added another, stretching me softly. Preparing me. His tongue kept moving against my clitoris and I began to shake, my inner thighs quivering.

Blake slid his belt buckle free, and his baggy jeans dropped on the floor with a thud.

His manhood jutted out at an angle from his body, so hard. I took in every detail, amazed at how he looked, how his body responded to mine. The head was heavy and engorged, swollen to an angry red. He stroked it with one hand; the vein running along it throbbed. I could see it all in the low light of the candles, and I kept my eyes open as he knelt between my legs and unrolled the condom down his thick shaft.

He bent and kissed my neck, and whispered, “Are you ready?”

The lucid parts of my brain had melted away. My heart pounded, and my body throbbed. I looked up at his face, my sight hazed with pleasure. This was everything I wanted to be experiencing—the pleasure, the terror, and the pure, naked, powerful mess of life.

“I’m ready.”

He entered me slowly. I cried out, not from pain, but the intensity of the feeling. My back curled and my fingernails raked across the bed. He waited, forehead pressed into mine, panting, letting me adjust before pushing in farther.

The presence of him inside me, the pressure and heat as he eased in and out of me in slow, deliberate movements, could drive me insane. It was such a delicious violation, such intimate torment, I wanted to beg for him to stop, and scream for him to go faster all in the same breath. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out, my lips quivering. Blake stared at them, then pressed his mouth against mine, hot and hungry.

I could feel his deliberate slowness, how he held himself back, in the shake of his body, and see it in the clench of his teeth. Sweat beaded on both our bodies, sparkling in the candlelight. Blake’s body was firm in a way so unfamiliar when compared to my own soft flesh. My hands had taken on a life of their own, exploring every muscle they could reach.

We eased into a rhythm together, and my body met his movements with its own. My hips lifted, pushing against his, experimenting with tilting back or rolling forward, enjoying how the changing angles made him feel different inside me. Everything was wet and smooth, sliding easily yet pushing firmly, filling me, pressing inside of me. I wanted to stay like this forever. I wanted this feeling to last forever. I didn’t know how anything could feel better than this.

Then Blake brought his hand down again and rubbed his thumb against my clitoris. An intense pressure, an even greater pleasure ran through me. His thumb rolled against me as my eyes rolled back, and I hung there in that exquisite feeling, almost in tears at the strength of the sensations running through me. Blake’s thrusts became sharper, hammering into me, making my whole body lift and shake. His fingers and thumb moved faster, flicking and pressing, and my body jolted, uncontrolled, terrifyingly. Every part of me went rigid and white-hot pleasure burned through my mind. My muscles went tight then loose, and my high-pitched, breathy scream filled the room. Blake slammed into me, any effort to be gentle or in control lost, crying out as well, and each thrust drove my pleasure on longer. He collapsed onto me, both of us panting and breathless.

We lay there, neither of us speaking. His weight was comforting, solid, and so very alive. I closed my eyes and went to sleep in his arms.