What I want?
His hands travel down my body leisurely, resting just below my navel. His thumb brushes the elastic of my pajama pants until a heat rises between my legs and makes me squirm. “Where do you feel you want me, Mouse?”
My lips part, then close.
His thumb dips under the band, tracing my skin. “Am I getting close?”
I let out a tiny noise that sounds both desperate and nervous. His lips dip to the crook of my neck, kissing and sucking and licking until I arch into him. He makes an approving noise, but when his hand moves away I protest.
“What do you want, Emery?” he asks against my skin, nipping my collarbone and then my shoulder. “Tell me with words.”
Fluttering my eyelids for a moment, I grasp his soft cotton shirt and pull it up. “I want your shirt off.”
He reaches behind him and yanks it off by the collar, throwing it on the floor. “Done. What else?”
My heart flips in my chest as I trace the slight ripples of his toned stomach. He shivers when I glide my palms up his body, resting them on his shoulders. His skin is soft and warm and flawless. The corded muscles in his arms pop from holding himself up over me, and I trace them too with my finger until his eyes close and his breathing hitches.
I take advantage and sit up on my elbows to initiate the kiss. He’s taken by surprise but quickly returns it, our lips and tongues and breaths dancing and tangling together until I reach for my shirt and start pulling it up too. He helps, slipping it over my head until we’re both bare from the waist up.
His eyes burn my chest as he stares, brushing his knuckles against my breast until I’m shuttering. When I move his hand to cup me fully, I bow up until he’s squeezing me the way I want.
“Touch me,” I whisper, kissing his jaw, neck, anything to feel close to him.
He doesn’t disappoint. Lowering onto his elbows, he shifts so his full attention is on my chest, kneading, kissing, and driving me mad. My nipples pebble under his touch, and when he dips down and takes one in his mouth, I cry out until I’m covering my face with my palms to keep quiet.
“Mm,” he murmurs, tugging on me with his teeth before nipping the side of the same breast. “Remember to keep quiet, Mouse. Wouldn’t want one of our parents to walk in.”
Oh my God. “We need to lock—”
“Already did,” he muses, moving his mouth to the other breast and mimicking his actions until I’m panting and needing him more.
“K-Kaiden.”
He looks up through his lashes. “Yes?”
I cup his face, brushing my thumb over his bottom lip. “Can I…would it be okay if I touched you?”
His eyes heat until they’re puddles of dark chocolate. “You should be more specific. Where is it that you want to touch me exactly?”
Licking my lips, I gather the courage to slowly trail my hand down, down, down his body until it rests just above his shorts. They hang low on his waist. All it would take is just one little movement…
“Fuck,” her murmurs, dropping his forehead on mine. “Your eyes say it all and it’s killing me.”
“Sorry?”
He shakes his head. “Don’t be. You’re hot as hell when you go after what you want.”
Blushing, I tug on his shorts.
“Want me to take them off?” he purrs, pulling my bottom lip into his mouth and suckling it.
“Y-Yes.”
“Want to see my cock, Mouse?”
My mouth practically waters as I nod, getting him to let go of my wrist and help me push his shorts down.
Eyes widening when I see him spring out of the nylon material, I can’t help but stare. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t something so big or pink or veiny.
I blink. “Oh, God.”
It twitches. Twitches.
“It moved,” I whisper-hiss.
He laughs, kicking his shorts off until they land on the floor in front of the bed. “Yeah, it’ll do that.”
I groan, realizing that thing is going to try fitting inside of me. “You’re not going to fit. That is not going to work, Kaiden.”
“Hey,” he murmurs, lips wavering like he wants to keep laughing. “Trust me, Em. It’ll fit. People do this every day.”
“Yeah, but…” Not knowing what to say, I shake my head.
“Do you want to do this?” he asks for the billionth time.
“Yes.”
“Do you want to touch me?” He takes my hand and slowly starts lowering it toward the very thing I’m still enamored by. “Words, Mouse. Do you want to touch my cock? I know I want you to.”
I choke on oxygen. “Yes,” I rasp.
He grins. “Do you want me to touch you? To take those cute little pajama pants off until we’re both bare. I know you’re not wearing panties under there.”
My eyes widen. “How would you know that?”
He leans in closer like we’re sharing a secret. “Do you know how many times a day I stare at your ass? I’d know if you’re wearing underwear or not.”
My whole face heats up.
“So?” He licks his lips. “Can I?”
For a split second, I debate my answer. I’m not sure why because I know I want this to happen—to sleep with Kaiden. To lose my virginity. To feel…normal. I also know it’s a horrible idea for so many reasons.
But I also don’t care.
I whisper an audible, “Yes.”
And just like that, my pants are on the floor tangled with his discarded clothes.
The nerves come back in full force now, because we’re both completely naked. My hand is back on his stomach, his eyes are raking over me, and I’m suddenly so self-conscious that I want to pull the blanket over me.
My stomach is flat, but my thighs aren’t as thin as they used to be. I’m hyperaware of their sudden roundness in contrast to the ribs that decorate my torso from the rapid weight loss I experienced before moving here. I’m no longer proportional. Not too skinny like I was, but also not fat. The in-between my body has shaped itself into is foreign territory.
Yet Kaiden doesn’t seem to mind at all. His eyes cut to mine before drifting down my nakedness, taking in every square inch. “Don’t hide. You’re beautiful, Emery. You’re beautiful and you’re mine.”
That one word, four little letters, is exactly what I need to gather the courage to make my move, wrapping my hand around his hard length. He groans loudly and bucks into me, twitching in my palm as I stare at how my fingers look around him. Not sure what to do, I squeeze him a little before moving my hand down and back up in a fluid motion.
He curses, most of the words making no sense that escape his lips. “So good. That feels so fucking good.”
“Can you show me?”
His eyes are closed, his head tipped back, and I think maybe I don’t need him to show me anything. I still want him to though. He’s feeding me confidence by letting me experience this.
“Show me how you touch yourself,” I whisper, causing him to grow harder in my hand.
“Fuck, that’s hot.” He wraps his hand around mine and starts jerking our palms up and down faster than I was, twisting the grip to put more pressure under the head. The sounds he makes as his hips roll makes dampness settle between my thighs, and I feel a strong need to experience everything with him as long as it means I can see his face so carefree and lost and beautiful in the moment as it is now.