I slide the fabric down, past her knees, over her calves, and set it aside. The air strikes the bare skin of her thighs and there it is—the faint, sweet heat of her. I brush my palms up the backs of her calves, lift her slightly, and press a kiss to the front of her thigh, right where the muscle meets softness.
Her response is immediate—a soft gasp, her body tilting toward me as if seeking more. I give her what she silently asks for, trailing gentle kisses along the inside of one thigh, then the other. Each brush of my lips draws a new little sound from her throat. They’re breathy, hitched, and they’re driving me mad with need. But I hold back the storm inside me. I want her dripping with anticipation before I take her first.
With one last kiss just above her knee, I rise to my feet again, lifting myself to tower over her smaller frame. In one smooth movement, I wrap an arm around her lower back and sweep her up into my arms. A tiny yelp of surprise escapes her, and she grabs onto my shoulders instinctively.
I carry her the few steps to the bed and set her down gently on the edge of it. The mattress dips under her weight. Mara scoots back reflexively, further onto the bed, and I follow, crawling over her until I end up with her lying on her back against the pillows, and me hovering over her on all fours.
Her hair fans out against the dark sheets, midnight silk on charcoal. Her camisole strap has slid off one shoulder, revealing an expanse of smooth skin and the edge of a tattoo peeking out—the tail of that snake tattoo, I think.
I dip my head and kiss her again. Mara melts beneath me, her hands finding the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair once more. I kiss her until she’s sighing against my mouth and her body relaxes into the mattress.
Then I begin to travel downward, dragging my lips along her jaw and down her throat. When I flick my tongue against the pulse point there, her pulse throbs rapidly under the delicate skin. She’s so alive, so vibrant and fragile. I want to consume her and shield her all at once.
My hand finds the hem of her camisole and slides beneath it, meeting warm, soft skin. I inch upward, caressing the curve of her waist, her ribcage. Mara arches slightly, unconsciously urging my touch higher. Her silent plea is answered when I push the silky camisole up, exposing her breasts.
Her breasts are perfect for her petite frame—full but soft, nipples already puckered.
“Beautiful.”
Mara’s cheeks flush even deeper, and she makes a half-hiding motion with her arm. I catch her wrist mid-air and gently pin it back to the bed. My eyes flick up to hers and I give a small shake of my head.
“Let me see you.”
Her arm relaxes, and she nods, trusting me.
I bend down and press soft kisses across the swell of her right breast, then around the left. I avoid the nipple for now, teasing, savoring the little mewls she makes as I take my time. My hand mirrors my mouth’s path on the opposite side, thumb circling her other nipple slowly. When I finally close my lips around one tight peak, Mara’s whole body jerks and she cries out. A startled, airy “Oh!” that she quickly bites back.
I hum in approval, releasing her nipple with a gentlepop,only to lick a broad stripe across it.“Don’t hold back. We want to hear you.”
She whimpers as I suckle her left nipple, her back arching off the bed. I feel her legs shift, one of her knees brushing against my hip as if she can’t get comfortable under this onslaught of new sensations. Her free hand (the one I’m not pinning) clutches the sheets.
Satisfied that she’s thoroughly sensitized, I release her wristsand sit up slightly.“Mara,”I sign her name against her collarbone, tracing the letters with my fingertip in a gentle pattern so she knows I’m still speaking to her even when my voice fails me. Her heavy-lidded eyes open wider, focusing on me.
I trail my hand down between her breasts, over her belly. Her camisole is bunched up above her chest now, so my fingers skim directly along her skin.
My pants have become nearly unbearable, my erection straining painfully against the zipper. But I ignore my own discomfort for now. This is about her first time. I want her trembling and pleading before I even think of taking her.
I settle between her parted legs, my knees sinking into the mattress. One of her legs is bent at the knee, the other lies slightly askew. Gently, I grasp her knees, urging them wider.“Open for me.”
Her eyes lock onto mine as she lets her thighs fall open further, fully exposing herself to my gaze. To banish any doubt from her mind, I run my hands up and down her outer thighs in a soothing caress.
Her pussy, slick with arousal, is flushed a delicate pink. I can see a hint of moisture gathered at her entrance, and when I brush the backs of my fingers lightly along her slit, I feel the wet heat of her. Mara gasps, a strangled little sound, and covers her mouth with her hand.
My heart swells. She’s beyond beautiful, and she’s mine. The word snarls possessively in my head. I push it down for now—ours,she’s ours, I remind the primal voice inside. But in this moment, with her laid out beneath me, trusting me to be her first, I can’t help feeling that she’s especially mine.
I slide one finger through her slick. My touch glides easily thanks to how wet she is. Mara’s hips jerk and she moans behind the hand still clamped over her mouth. I notice and gently tug her wrist away from her lips. I pin that hand beside her head, lacing our fingers together against the pillow. Our eyes meet, and I holdher gaze as I slowly, slowly circle the pad of my index finger around her clit.
She chokes out a cry and instinctively tries to twist away from the overwhelming sensation. Her free hand flies to grip my forearm where I’m bracing myself above her. “Jasper—” she whimpers, voice high and needy.
I still my finger immediately, worried I’ve gone too fast. But she shifts under me, and I realize she’s not trying to escape my touch at all—she’s repositioning, trying to angle her hips closer. I bite back a groan at her eagerness.
Maintaining our entwined fingers above, I resume the gentle circling on her clit. Each tiny motion coaxes a new reaction from her. I watch every flutter of her lashes, every parting of her lips. When her head tips back, exposing the long line of her throat, I lean down and mouth hot kisses there.
Her pulse thrums against my tongue as I taste her skin. “Jasper…”
I nearly break. My hips grind involuntarily against the mattress to relieve some of the ache in my own body.
Mara is climbing fast, her body so responsive it’s like playing a finely-tuned instrument. I drag my finger lower, tracing her entrance. Her slickness coats my fingertip. Gently, I push inside, up to the first knuckle. Her walls clench around even that small intrusion and she whimpers, tensing. There it is—the slight resistance of her virgin body resisting being stretched. I retreat and return to circling her clit, letting her relax again with pleasure.
