He laughs, and it’s a raw, deep sound…then we’re kissing again. His fingers find my bra clasp, and I tense for just a second before nodding. He pops it open, the cool air hits my nipples, and I shiver, not from being cold but from want.
Garrett’s mouth trails down, letting his tongue swirl over one nipple, then the other. I moan, arching into him, need flooding my pussy, I can feel it dripping. My hips buck up, searching for friction, for anything to ease this tension.
He slides his hand lower, fingers skimming the waistband of my leggings. “Can I?”
I nod quickly, my voice gone. He pulls them down, along with my panties, and I’m completely exposed, trembling, aching. He stares, his pupils dilated wide.
“Jesus, Annie,” he groans.
He’s wearing only his boxers now, and I can see his cock tenting the fabric. I reach out, tracing his length.Holy shit, he’s huge. How is all that supposed to fit inside my virginal lady bits? Is there even room?
He catches my hand, pinning it above my head.
“Not yet,” he mutters, eyes burning with desire. “Let me take care of you first.”
My heart hammers against my ribcage.
I want to let him. I want to let go.
But suddenly, I freeze, and my fear overtakes me. Before he can go any further, I break the kiss. “Wait…Garrett, I need to tell you something.”
He sits back, concern showing on his beautiful face. “Are you okay?”
I swallow. “I’ve never done this before. I’m a, um... I’m a virgin.” The word feels too big, too heavy, now that it’s out in the open, but I force myself to meet his gaze.
He instantly softens, his fingers gently brushing the hair back from my face. “Thank you for telling me. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
I shake my head. “No, I want you. I just... I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m probably going to be terrible.”
Leaning down, he kisses me on the forehead; the simple gesture melts my heart. “Annie. I want you. But not like this. I’m not going to let your first time be on the cold ground, out in the woods. You deserve more than that.”
His words hit me harder than anything has before. They are honest in a way that makes my chest fill with so many raw emotions it feels like it’s about to burst open. No one has ever made me feel so precious, worth waiting for, like Garrett has in this moment. My throat goes tight, and my eyes start to sting. I want him even more now, not just for sex, but because he sees me. Garrett makes me feel wanted in all the right ways—cared for. And it has made me fall for him, hard and fast, right here in the middle of nature.
He wipes at the single tear that’s sliding down my cheek. “Annie, I want to make you feel good. I want to make you come until you can’t remember your own name. Will you let me?”
I nod shakily. “Yes. Please.” He gives me a devilish grin before he starts kissing his way down my stomach.
When he spreads my thighs, I forget how to be shy. I forget everything but the way his mouth feels, the rough scrape of his beard, the way his tongue swirls over my clit, gentle but relentless. The sensation is nothing like I’veever felt before. So raw and intense, my hands claw at the blanket, my toes curl, and I cry out, loud and unashamed.
He slides one finger inside me, slow and careful, while his other hand gently strokes my thigh. His movements focused on that particular spot inside me, causing this feeling…a buildup of something unimaginable that has me gasping.
“You okay?”
“God, yes. That… whatever you’re doing, don’t stop, please…”
He grins against my skin, and his tongue goes back to my clit, pushing me higher and higher. I come with a shudder, hips jerking, voice ragged. But he doesn’t stop. He keeps licking, keeps working me until I’m begging, until the same feeling crests again, this time even harder, ripping another orgasm from me that leaves me shaking.
He crawls back up, eyes dark, and his mouth slick with my arousal. “You’re fucking perfect,” he whispers, kissing me until I can taste myself on his tongue.
I still want him. I want to give back what he’s given me.
I reach down and find his cock, hard and throbbing, straining against his boxers. I tug them down, and he lets out a low groan.
“You don’t have to,” he rasps, but I cut him off with a kiss.
“I want to, Garrett. Tell me how.”
He guides my hand, showing me how to grip him, how to stroke. I take him in my mouth, savoring theweight and the taste of him, letting my tongue explore his entire veiny length. I feel empowered as his hips jerk, and his hands bury in my hair. Letting me know I must be doing something right.
