Judah's expression darkened, all humor vanishing in an instant. He knelt before me, his hands resting lightly on my knees.
“Who told you that?” he asked, his voice dangerously soft.
I shrugged, suddenly feeling foolish under his intense gaze. “Girls at church. My father's church.”
“They lied,” he said simply. His thumbs traced small circles on my bare skin. “Or they've only known selfish men.” His eyes held mine as he spoke. “The first time can be good. Itshouldbe good, Mercy.”
The rum was making everything soft around the edges, but his words cut through the haze with perfect clarity. I watched as he moved his hands up my thighs, leaving trails of heat in their wake.
“You don't believe me,” he observed.
“I want to,” I whispered.
“Then let me show you,” he said, his voice low.
His hands moved higher, thumbs tracing the skin of my inner thighs. I shivered — couldn’t help it. “We’ve walked some of this road before. You liked my tongue?”
I boosted myself on my elbows as he reached for the elastic of my panties. “You know I did,” I said, oddly not embarrassed by the admission, nor the fact that he was undressing me so casually — like we’ve known each other for years, not just weeks. I lifted my hips as he slid the fabric down my legs. The air felt cool against my newly exposed skin, but his hands were warm as they moved back up my calves, my knees, my thighs.
“Lie back,” he instructed softly.
I complied, sinking into the plush bedding. The ceiling above me was high and shadowed, the lamp casting just enough light to see the crown molding at its edges. I felt exposed, vulnerable — and yet strangely at ease under his gaze.
Judah's hands parted my thighs gently. I closed my eyes, feeling the mattress shift as he positioned himself. When the warmth of his mouth found the heat of my core, it was… it was something. The burning Eden on his back finally started making sense.
I gasped as his tongue made a slow, soft glide up my pussy, my body arching involuntarily. His hands gripped my thighs firmly, keeping me spread for him as he kept exploring with soft strokes. Yet my mind kept going a hundred miles a minute, despite the rum.
“Judah?” I asked, looking at the white ceiling of his bedroom. “Doyoulike it? What you’re doing right now?”
His mouth paused against me, and I felt his breath — warm and steady — against the most sensitive part of me. He lifted his head just enough to meet my eyes, his gaze dark and intense in the low light.
“I love it,” he said, his voice rough with desire. “I love tasting you. Feeling you respond to me.” His thumb traced circles where his mouth had been, making me shiver. “Why do you ask?”
I swallowed hard. “Just making sure this isn't... some kind of sacrifice for you.”
Something glinted in his eyes — amusement, tenderness, hunger — everything mingled together. He pressed a kiss to my inner thigh, then another, moving higher with each touch. Past my hipbones, past the navel, past the breasts until it stopped at my collarbone and he murmured against my skin: “Do you know how to tell when a man enjoys a woman?” He didn’t wait for my answer; he took my hand and guided it to the front of his pants.
The hardness I felt there made my breath catch. Even through the fabric, there was no mistaking his arousal, its size and heat apparent against my palm.
“Jesus,” I cussed, not really meaning to; my fingers curled instinctively around the outline of him.
“That's for you,” he said, his voice deepening as my hand rubbed him with tentative pressure.
His mouth found mine then, and I tasted myself on his tongue — salt and musk and something indefinable. His kiss was different now, hungrier, as if he'd been holding back before. One of his hands tangled in my hair, the other working at his belt buckle.
“I want to see you,” I said against his lips, my fingers fumbling to help him. The rum made me clumsy but bold.
He stood, letting me watch as he stripped away the last barriers between us. The tattoos I'd glimpsed before revealed themselves fully — intricate patterns flowing across his chest and arms, disappearing around his sides only to emerge again on his back. And below...
My eyes widened. I'd never seen a naked man before, certainly not out in thewild.Not aroused and ready.
If I had a measuring tape on hand, Ibetit would’ve taken six solid inches of roll-out to measure him. Maybe more. There were veins and a slight curve, and—
“It's bigger than I thought,” I blurted out, then immediately felt heat rush to my face. “How—howis it supposed to fitinsideme? I’m legitimately asking, Judah. Not even being funny.”
But Judah laughed either way. “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll take it slow.”
I was skeptical, and my face showed it. “You know, youmaysay two plus two is five — it doesn’t change the actual math underneath it.”
