He groans, and then he’s the one who might out us, saying my name over and over. “Marietta, Marietta, Marietta.”
Let them know. I shouldn’t care. It’s what I’ve wanted. And I’m finally here.
I move faster, down to my throat, out to the tip. I feel dizzy, the motion heady and hot. I control him. I’m making him want me. We are everything to each other in this moment.
I keep going, wondering wildly if he’ll spurt in my mouth and what I will do, when he pulls my head away.
“I’m going to lick you until you come again,” he growls, lifting me up by the waist.
But he doesn’t stop when he brings me to standing. My feet leave the ground as he tosses me onto the bed.
I’m airborne for a moment, my hair aloft, body in flight. I land on the fresh blanket and sheets with the pillows under my head.
He strips off his jeans and boxers and kneels over me. “Spread those knees, cherry mouse. I want to hear you cry out one more time before I become your very first lover.”
My legs fall open, and he leans down to press his open mouth against the crotch of the silk panties. His breath is hot, and I grab fists full of the blanket, writhing beneath him.
I want more contact. No barrier between us. I don’t bother worrying about what anyone can hear. “Merrick. Please.”
He chuckles as he grasps the lace of the panties and slides them over my thighs and down past my ankles. I have no idea where they end up, and I don’t care because, in mere seconds, his mouth lands on me, his tongue flicking inside.
He’s different, unafraid to delve more deeply. My back arches as he separates the folds so he can press his face hard against my skin.
I shiver, then shake, my body vibrating with the anticipation, knowing what he can do to me.
Then a finger slides in, pressing beneath his mouth. I hold my breath, expecting pain, but I only feel an intensifying need. Something unfurls down deep, an urgency. I lift my hips, seeking relief from it. Wanting more.
In romance books, virgins always orgasm, sometimes multiple times, but I’ve read the reviews. Real people say it’s not possible. It can even break the mood of the story because it’s so unrealistic.
I don’t know what to believe after reading story after story about this very moment. What version will I get? Is the truth somewhere in the middle?
Merrick reaches in even farther, and I sense some pressure, but then he sucks on the tip of my bud, and all I can feel is the sudden pulse of the orgasm crashing over me in a wave. It didn’t care about my worries. My body was feeling its own thing.
My breath is fast and shallow as I ride it out. Merrick keeps licking gently, but his fingers are still firmly inside me.
I’m out of the pleasure and back into the fear. What if I do something dumb? Like say, “Ow” or push him away in a reflex?
Or cry.
Ohh, now, I’m nervous.
But he senses it, lifting his head. “You’re in control here. We won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”
But I want to. “I’m nervous.” I bite my lip. “I think it might be … bad. Maybe for both of us.”
He shifts up and over me so his face is near mine. “Trust me, it will be perfectly good for me. And I’ll do everything I can to make it as good for you as possible.”
“Have you been with a virgin before? How did it go?”
He shakes his head. “Not once.”
This is surprising. “So, it’s kind of a first for both of us.”
“It is.”
I’m not sure if I’m relieved I’ll be the first one, or if I wish he had some frame of reference. But it doesn’t matter. He reaches over to the dresser and pulls the strip of condoms from the drawer. “We’re going to go slow.”
“It’s not a rip off the Band-Aid situation?”
