“You, uh…are you a…”
I know what he’s asking, and instead of blushing and avoiding the subject, I answer as best as I can.
“Technically. I’ve never made love before, so I’m a virgin in that sense, but the barrier isn’t there anymore. I had an episode when I was fourteen involving a horse and me landing very hard when it took off while I was on it. Trust me, though, after seeing all that blood, you’re lucky that thing is history.”
“Okay. Good. Uh…I’m going to kiss you now, Ellie.”
He doesn’t give me a moment to process this before his lips are crashing down on mine in a kiss that is about claiming and possession. After a few seconds, and now that he’s satisfied his urges, he gentles the contact and starts kissing me sweetly and deeply, slowing us both down till I feel like he’s making love to my mouth.
It’s arousing, heated, soft, and romantic all at the same time, and I feel myself falling deeper under his spell. This isn’t my first kiss, but I can say that it is the first real kiss I’ve had. Ever.
It does everything the books have talked about and so much more. With this one action, he’s got me hooked, and by the time he stops licking and kissing my mouth and pulls away, I think he knows it.
The moment should be awkward as he pulls away and stares deep into my eyes, his hands cradling my face gently, reverently. It isn’t.
“I knew it would be this way with you. Perfect,” he breathes before coming back to lay butterfly kisses all over my upturned face.
“Wyatt, I—”
“Shh, don’t be afraid, Ellie, this is exactly what making love should feel like. Let me show you what I feel for you.”
That pleading tone and the way he’s looking at me is so loving that all I can do is nod and follow as he takes my hand and leads me out of the pool area and back into the house.
Our trek up the stairs takes longer than it should because he keeps stopping to kiss me breathlessly, and by the time we reach the master bedroom, I’m dazed and so aroused that I can hardly form a thought.
I get nervous when he stops us beside the bed and unties my robe, sliding it down and off my shoulders in a feather-light move that sends goose bumps breaking out all over my body and tightens my nipples.
“You’re so beautiful, baby, do you know that? I’ve wanted you this way from that first day I saw you,” he says, running his hands from my shoulders to the very tops of my breasts.
A soft moan is the only response I make when he reaches up to untie the strings at my nape and back, and discards the bikini top with a flick of his wrist.
I’m exposed, feeling more vulnerable now than I did when I woke up that first morning. I don’t know why. You’d think knowing that he’s already seen me naked would calm me, but it doesn’t.
When all he does is stare silently, my nerves get the better of me and I raise my arms.
“No, don’t hide from me, baby. I’m just taking my time to look, that’s all. I’m just fulfilling a dream I’ve had for a very long time.”
“But I have scars.”
They’re not as bad as they used to be, some have lightened considerably over the years, but the ones just under my right breast and around my belly button are still there, a constant reminder that he ruined me.
“Not scars, baby. Badges of survival, that’s all they are.”
He finishes that statement by dragging his hands from my collarbone all the way down till his large hands cup my breasts and envelop them in heat and gentle squeezes.
It feels so good, I can’t help but throw my head back and moan long and low. After hefting them and testing the weight, he leans his head in and takes one into his mouth, suckling so gently, I feel loved even as the arousal he’s been building since that first kiss amps up and settles in my sex.
It’s overwhelming and beautiful as he alternates between breasts, licking and sucking me before giving me a gentle nudge and laying me down on the bed.
My bottoms disappear quickly, and he crawls up onto the bed and brushes over me, his skin sliding over mine and settling. The weight of him against my skin is pure heated bliss, and I moan at the contact, pushing myself as close as I can.
I’m new to this, have never felt all of these overwhelming sensations before, but I trust him enough that when he stops kissing me and fondling my breasts minutes later and moves down my body, I spread my legs willingly.
“Ellie.”
His voice is a sigh when he looks down at my sex and breathes in deeply, as if he’s struggling to control himself. He’s shaking over me when he lowers his head and presses his mouth to my flesh.
I gasp at the contact.