I nod then feel like stabbing myself in the dick. “I didn’t bring condoms.”
She smiles. “Front zip of my suitcase.”
“I should be ashamed that I forgot, but it’s kind of hot that you brought them.”
Stacey grins as I go to her suitcase and pull out an unopened packet of condoms.
“You even knew to get large.” I chuckle and pull the plastic off. “Good girl.”
She crawls to the edge of the bed, and she distracts me. “Stand here.” She points in front of her.
I don’t hesitate. When I’m in place, she tells me to open the box, but I nearly drop it on her head as she sucks my cock into her mouth.
She pops it out from between her lips. “Open the box and unwrap one.”
As her tongue glides up my twitching cock, I gulp, quickly ripping the box to shreds .
“Do you know how to put one on? Or do you want me to try to do it?”
I don’t want to admit that I’ve tried on every condom imaginable while bored in my room, so instead, I shake my head and tell her to do it.
She doesn’t take her eyes off me as she rolls it down my cock and finds her place in the middle of the bed, head on the pillow.
As I climb on top of her and line the tip of my dick up to her entrance, I try to focus on her and not the panic rising in my chest. If I do this wrong, I might hurt her. If I’m a failure and unable to perform, then I’m never having sex again.
I’ll cut my dick off if I hurt her.
What if I’m no good?
I’ve heard Dez and Base discuss fucking people plenty of times, even had a full description from the latter of how warm and tight and fucking heavenly it feels to be inside someone.
But that’s not what I’m thinking about.
All that’s going through my mind is that I’m a fuck-up in most things. This will inevitably suck for her.
She had to talk me through going down on her, for fuck’s sake.
“Hey.” Her soft voice breaks my inner thoughts, her hands on my face. “Be here with me.”
“I am.” My voice shakes. “Sorry.”
Her hand slips down my chest. “Don’t apologise.”
I bite my tongue to stop myself. She notices, smiles that beautiful smile that warms my dysfunctional heart, then rises to press her lips to mine.
We don’t rush anything as we kiss. The tip of my cock is easing inside her, and my arms are shaking so fucking badly. I feel like she’s trying to push me out, like there’s a fist around my dick trying to force me away.
I stop pressing my hips forward. Take a breath. Kiss her forehead and ask if she’s okay, and when she nods and presses her heels to my ass, I slowly push into her.
Inch by inch, eyes locked, lips parted, we become each other’s firsts. And if I can help it, lasts.
“Fuck. You’re gripping me so tight.” I try to move a little deeper, but she winces, so I stay still. “We don’t need to do this if it’s hurting you.”
I ease back, her inner walls pushing me out with the pressure. With my head still inside, I wait for her to speak.
“No.” She hooks her ankles behind my thighs tighter. “It doesn’t hurt – it’s more of a pressure. Just…” She gently rolls her hips, and I hiss from the sensation. “Keep going.”
I lower my body to hers, my elbows resting on each side of her head as I kiss her. Stacey sucks on my tongue as I slowly move out a few inches then slide back home, which earns me a whimper.
Stomach muscles tightening with each carefully controlled thrust, I keep my eyes on Stacey. Looking for any sign of discomfort, showing her that she has my full attention, that this might be sex, but it’s her and her soul and fucking heart that have got my emotions running wild.
Her fingers dig into my biceps as I go deeper, a mixture of a moan and a gasp filling the space between us. I keep my forehead to hers. “How does it feel?”
Stacey rocks her hips into mine, nearly taking all of me and moaning, “I want more. ”
“More?”
She nods. “Yeah. Give me more, Kade.”
I give her one hard thrust to test how it feels and grit my teeth. Fuck. Her pupils are fully dilated; she’s drunk with pleasure, and when I drive inside her, her body trembles beneath me. I hit that spot that has her seeing stars and then do it again, hooking my arm behind her knee to open her wider.
I fuck into her, not in the slightest fast, but deep. Each glide of my dick, the way I’m strangled by her walls, has me groaning and kissing her. Each stroke of my tongue is a push of my hips, her rolling into me and us letting sounds fall from our lips.
I was fifteen when I met her, and that’s when my obsession began. Now, as I feel her body shattering around me and beneath me, orgasm slamming into her with my name on her lips, I know it’s an obsession I’ll never get over.
Because as the pleasure blooms through me and rockets through each muscle in my body, my balls tighten, and I empty into the condom.
I collapse on her, careful not to crush her as I catch my breath, then pull back to ease out of her. Once I toss the condom in the bin beside the bed, I caress her cheek. “Talk to me, Freckles. How do you feel?”
She grins. “Amazing.”
“You’re not sore?”
“A little,” she admits, and we glance down between us, noticing the spots of blood on the sheets.
I stop her hands from covering her face. “You don’t need to be embarrassed about this stuff. Not with me, okay?”
“It doesn’t disgust you?”
I shake my head. “As long as you’re okay, I don’t care about anything else.”
“I’m okay.”
I kiss the tip of her nose. “Then so am I.”
In her post-orgasmic state, Stacey leans up and kisses me. It’s a chaste kiss, but it means more than all the others we’ve had the past hour.
And it’s now, as I carry her to the bathroom and clean us both, that I realise I might be feeling an emotion I’ve only ever heard about. One I had no idea existed for me – never knew I was capable of feeling.
An emotion that makes me want to blind everyone in the world so they can never see how beautiful she is. I’ll stick a screwdriver deep in their ear canals, so they’ll never hear her laugh. The idea of anyone thinking they can have her after me makes my blood boil.
Dangerous. This is so fucking dangerous.
I think I’m falling in love with Stacey Rhodes.
33
KADE
The dream – or more like the nightmare – ends where it always does, and it takes me a long minute to realign with reality.
Hair is in my face, a head resting on my dead left arm, our fingers linked. My other hand is against a warm chest, a palm holding me in place between two tits.
I never sleep over when I’m working. I fuck and leave, then report back to Bernadette.
When I open my eyes, the familiar smell of coconut shampoo and the feeling of being content makes sense as I see dark hair, freckled, inked skin, and Stacey in my arms.
I blink a few times.
Stacey… In my arms. Long bare legs tangled with mine.
My painful morning wood is pressing into her ass through my boxers. Because that’s all I’m wearing.
If I’ve fucked Stacey and have no memory of it, I’ll be so fucking pissed.