“I’m sorry,” he said. “That was inappropriate.”
“But—”
“I got caught up in the moment,” he said.
What the hell?
And why was this making me want him more? Why did I suddenly feel the urge to yank him down to me for even more intense kissing?
“I’ll protect you and defend you, but... I shouldn’t have done that. You’re not... it wouldn’t work out.”
“Cole?”
“Let me know if you, uh, need anything else,” he said, hurrying to grab a pillow and a blanket.
I wanted to reassure him that I had liked the kiss. I wanted to let him know that him doing that didn’t bother me and, in fact, had me feeling as aroused as I’d felt in forever. I wanted him to... I didn’t know if I wanted to get naked with him, I didn’t know if I wanted to lose my virginity to him, but I knew I liked how far we’d gone so far.
But I didn’t know the words to bring him back. I didn’t know how to say it without sounding desperate or sad.
Why would I, anyway? It’s not like I had an extensive history of boyfriends and personal growth. My father’s shadow still loomed over my heart and mind, even if his physical shadow did not; it was as if his hand was wrapped around my brain, preventing me from thinking of the right thing to say.
“You can, uh, well, I guess you can stay here until you figure things out,” Cole said as he tossed some more pillows and blankets on the couch. “Since your cell phone can’t be tracked now. We’ll, I, uh, take care, see you in the morning.”
“OK,” I said, feeling extremely unsatisfied with my last words of the night to him.
Where were the words that got him back to that couch for some more kissing? Where were the words that sought to express how I felt? Where were the words that would tell the truth about my lack of sexual and romantic past, and how I wanted to break free from my father’s influence and be myself?
Wherever those words were, they were not accessible.
Cole went into the room, shutting the door. I pursed my lips. Now, with Cole gone, my arousal had gone through the fucking roof. Just because I’d never had sex didn’t mean I didn’t have libido; in fact, I suspected my virginity played a huge role in making me want to have sex that badly. The experience of sex could be anything that I wanted it to be.
I found my hands falling down inside my pants, but could I really do that on Cole’s couch? I didn’t fear making a mess so much as I did getting walked in on—how would that go? If Cole had walked away from me after a kiss, what the hell would he do when he caught me touching myself?
But the urge was far too great, and the desire far too overwhelming.
I made sure all of the lights were off. I made sure I had all of the blankets on me, the better so I could have some plausible deniability. I removed my pants, leaving on only a t-shirt and panties.
And then I slid my hand underneath.
To an extent, everything that I thought was merely conjecture. I was not so sheltered as to not know what sex entailed; I was not a part of some weird religious cult. But there was a difference between knowing what it was like to have a man inside of me and assuming what it was like to have a man inside of me.
But that didn’t stop the thoughts of imagining Cole kissing me, kissing my body, working his way down my chest, my stomach... and then pressing his face in between my legs and eating me out.
I rubbed myself and pleasured myself as I imagined Cole would. I bit down on my lip very hard to make sure that he wouldn’t hear me in the other room, but given that even masturbation did not happen that often for me, the feeling was incredibly intense and pleasing.
I imagined him coming forward, taking off his pants, and revealing his cock. It would, of course, be hard and ready to fit inside of me. I imagined him sliding in and going in and out, in and out, all the while, his girth grinding against me. The pleasure intensified. I had to focus on not breathing so hard and so loud.
And then, the pleasure started to center. It started to concentrate in a very small area. I was close.
I imagined him saying my name. “Lilly…” Oh, it was so fucking hot. Oh, just imagining him inside of me, naked, saying my name…
“Ah!”
I let out a gasp as the orgasm rolled through my body. It was loud, but it was short, and I didn’t worry that Cole would have heard it. Worst case, I’d lie and say I stubbed my toe.
But I definitely felt like I had gotten away with something naughty, and it was so thrilling. The man one room over, probably no more than ten, fifteen feet of physical distance, was the source of my pleasure, my imagination, as I achieved sexual release. All he had to do was walk out, not even for me, just for a glass of water or to lock the door... and what would have happened then?
That was an even more erotic, arousing, thrilling thought.
Cole Carter had become something more than my protector, the man who would guide me to the next phase of my life.
And I had to admit, I was getting more and more interested to see what that “something more” would wind up being.
