He stands, holding me to him, and I tighten my legs around his waist as he walks toward the bedroom. Our mouths never separate as he lowers me to the bed, and we gradually shed our outer layers.
I’ve never been naked in front of any guy before. Trent repeatedly tries to strip me bare, but I enjoy denying him. Now, I spread my legs for this beautiful, rugged stranger, with no hint of nerves or vulnerability, admiring his gorgeous body as he pulls a condom out of his bedside table and rolls it over his impressive length.
We don’t talk, but words are redundant. He settles between my thighs, bringing his hot mouth to my pussy, and I almost lift off the bed as he devours me with his tongue and his fingers, quickly bringing me over the edge.
No man has ever done that to me before, and the pleasurable sensations coursing through my body are wholly new. When I come down from the best orgasm of my life, he climbs over me, kissing me passionately as his hands caress my small breasts. His roughened fingers tweak my nipples like he’s plucking strings on a guitar, rolling them skillfully until they’re taut peaks, and it’s not long before I’m writhing in need again.
He positions himself at my entrance, stalling to look at me. “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asks, and another little chip melts off the block around my heart.
No one has ever cared to ask me what I need or what I want, and tears prick my eyes at the obvious concern in his eyes.
“Yes. I want to do this with you.”
His eyes are glued to mine as he slowly inches inside me. He stops halfway in, sweeping his fingers across my cheek. “You’re so beautiful.” He nudges in a little more. “And so tight.” He flexes his jaw, and I can tell he’s exercising caution. When he pushes in a little more, a sharp sting of pain jolts through me, and I wince.
His eyes pop wide as he holds himself still. Shock splays across his face. “You’re a virgin?” he splutters.
A sly smirk slips across my mouth. “I was.”
“Fuck.” He leans down, kissing me so sweetly I feel like crying. “You should’ve said.”
And have you change your mind? Not likely.
Thoughts of losing my virginity to that psycho Trent were part of the reason drawing me to the sea tonight. I’ve been holding him off for years, but with the wedding approaching, I know I can’t hold out much longer.
Denying him that victory only adds to the joy of this moment.
But it’s way more than wanting to one-up Trent.
I want to give my body to this gorgeous stranger.
To enjoy this one night where I can take something for myself before returning to the gilded cage I live in.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, bucking my hips up in encouragement. “I want this with you. Right here. Right now. Nothing has made so much sense in a long time.”
He inspects me for so long I fear he will pull out and change his mind, but then he pushes the rest of the way inside me, and I swallow my cry of pain. He peppers little kisses along my neck and my collarbone, gently kneading my tits as he slowly rocks back and forth inside me. “I’ll go slow until it doesn’t hurt anymore,” he whispers across my now overheated skin. “And if you want me to stop, I will.”
“I don’t want you to stop,” I say, threading my fingers through the longish dark strands of hair now falling over his strong brow. “Keep going.”
He makes love to me then, only picking up his pace when I confirm it no longer hurts, but he’s never rough, completely attentive to my needs, and he brings me to a second orgasm as his own climax hits.
I’m sprawled across his warm body, a few hours later, listening to the comforting beat of his heart, watching his chest inflate and deflate in slumber, wishing I could stay here in this little beach cabin with this beautiful stranger for eternity.
But I know that’s only wishful thinking. A fantasy I can’t entertain. Bringing anyone into my life risks theirs, and that’d be a poor way of rewarding this man who has given me a night I will cherish for the rest of my life.
Although I hate to leave him like this, it’s for the best.
He can’t know who I am or understand the implications of what we’ve just done.
Reluctantly, I ease out of his warm bed and his life, feeling a pang of overwhelming sadness as I get dressed, preparing myself to leave him behind. He looks peaceful in slumber, like a tattooed guardian angel, arriving at the perfect moment to help put things in perspective.
If I’d followed through tonight, they would have won, and I know my dead mother wouldn’t want that for me.