“I’m not a closet freak or anything. You won’t need to unpack your whips and props.”
“Props?” he asked with a curious smile. “What props do you think I have?”
“I don’t know, but some people are into like horse-size dildos and butt plugs, and I just thought you should know, I’m not.”
“Me, either,” he said, amused. “I don’t need any of that. Just straight sex is good.”
“Straight sex. Right.”
“Abby, don’t be so nervous. We can wait if you aren’t ready.”
“I’m ready, it’s just that I’m … out of practice.”
“Don’t worry about it. Hey, let’s just get in bed and talk for a while, okay?”
She nodded, exhaling with relief as she snuggled against him. She was surprised how apprehensive she was about something she wanted so much. Deep down, she knew her fear was disappointing him.
He propped his head up on his hand, resting on his elbow. She reached up to his hair, running her fingers over it lightly.
“I love your hair,” she murmured.
“Do you? I’ve been thinking about getting it cut really short.”
“No. I’d miss it.”
“Then I won’t.”
Abby smiled over at him as he grazed his fingers across her stomach. The familiar burn of desire for more of him set in, and she closed her eyes, relishing the sensation of his touch.
“You know what I love?” he said softly. “I love your hazel eyes. They’re light brown, green and gold. More gold when you’re happy, more brown when you’re sad.”
Abby reached her hand around the back of his neck, pulling his face to hers, and his lips brushed against hers softly. Her heart raced, knowing that this time would be different than the rest. This time they wouldn’t stop. This time she would finally get to satisfy him.
The thought made her suddenly hungry to feel his bare skin, and she stripped his t-shirt over his head, running her hands along his arms and back, still warm from the day in the sun.
He was slow, unfastening the buttons on her shirt one at a time, and kissing her stomach after each one, his lips climbing higher as he opened it from bottom to top. The ends of his hair brushed against her skin softly, and Abby wished for no woman but her to ever feel the brush of his hair in such an intimate way.
“I want you all for myself,” she murmured, sighing as his eyes looked up to hers.
“You have me all to yourself,” he said, kissing her tenderly between her breasts.
“Not just now … all the time. I wish you were mine,” she said, the words coming out before she’d considered them.
“I am, Abby,” he said softly. When she blinked, tears dripped from the corners of her eyes, and she was overcome. Chris brought such raw emotions from her; feelings of passion and need and love that she’d never felt for anyone.
As he slid the strap of her bra down her shoulder and kissed the spot where it had been, she reached down, needing to bring out something raw from him. He was already hard, and he groaned as she stroked him through his jeans.
“God, Abby,” he said, closing his eyes. She reached for the button, struggling to unfasten it with one hand.
Things moved in slow motion and fast forward simultaneously. She wanted to remember every touch, every kiss, but they blended together like the music of a symphony.
When he slowly peeled away her clothes and she felt his warm, bare skin against her entire body, she thought it might be all the sensation she could handle. She kissed his neck, ran her hands down his back, and drew in a deep breath. He was so close to being inside her, and she felt a sudden, deep need for him.
As though he could read her mind, he reached for the bedside table and ripped into the foil package of a condom.
“Still sure?” he whispered against her ear.
“Yes,” she whispered back, her body pulsing with anticipation.
The discomfort was secondary to the rush she felt when he was finally inside her. She moaned and whimpered and groaned all at once, desperate to feel more as he pulled back.
“Is this okay?” he asked uncertainly.
“Yes, it’s good. I want more.”
He responded with his full length, and Abby moaned with the pleasure of the pain. As he picked up his pace, she flushed from the intensity of the desire building in her.
“Chris,” she moaned, clutching his back tightly.
“I’m yours, Abby, and I want you to be mine, too,” he said, his voice strained as he pushed against her deeper, faster and harder.
“I am,” she said, crying out loudly as the orgasm seized her. The raw, guttural sound he made as he came turned her on so much that she continued to come, still moaning and breathless when he collapsed on top of her.