Waylynn
I suckin my stomach when Memphis’ fingers go to the button of my shorts. “Breathe,” he reminds me, and I exhale. My heart is thumping so hard, I’m sure he can feel it. Once my shorts are loose, he slides his palms into the back, cupping my butt and pushing the material down at the same time.
My shorts and panties slip down my legs, getting hung up on the cast, but he bends, kissing his way down my stomach, until he unhooks the fabric and I’m fully naked. As he rises, he runs his hands up my body, sliding his palm between my legs while staring into my eyes as he does it.
The heat and press of his palm leave me wanting more, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous too. “Oh, sweetness, you’re soaked,” he rumbles, moving his hand back and forth until the tip of his finger slips between my lips.
My hips swivel, proving my body knows what to do, even when I feel overwhelmed.
“I want to sink so far inside you that you’ll never get me out.” He continues to toy with me, making me ache even more. I want to answer him, to tell him he’s already carved out a spot in my soul and that I think it was there waiting for him before we even met, but I bite my bottom lip instead. “I want to know what you will sound like when I slip inside you for the first time.”
My inner muscles clench, and he must be able to feel it because his eyes slip closed and he tips his head back, making his neck look even thicker, stronger, before letting out a groan. I wonder if he’ll let me leave a mark on him. I run my eyes over his chest and the fine hair covering some of him, noting the perfect spot to bite. It would be hidden behind the collar of his shirt. It could be my secret. While all the other girls in class are fantasizing about him, I would know what’s under his clothes.
I lean forward while his eyes are still closed and kiss his chest. His head jerks back and his nostrils flare as if he wasn’t expecting me to touch him. I pull back, unsure, but he palms my head, pushing my face toward his chest. His finger is still between my legs, teasing and swirling.
I kiss him a few more times, wishing I were tall enough to reach the spot I’m fixated on, but it’s no use, so I go lower instead. Bending removes his fingers, and he makes a deep sound of warning before using his hand to direct my head back up.
“Uh-uh, get on the bed.” He steps back, removing both of his hands from me. I feel like I did something wrong.
“Sorry,” I tell him as I sit down.
He stops in the middle of unbuttoning his pants, jerking his eyes up to meet mine. “For what?” He moves a little closer.
I lift my shoulder in a shrug, tempted to pull the blankets over to cover below my waist. “I don’t know, you just aren’t happy.”
“Sweetness.” He takes his hands away from his pants and steps up, pushing his body between my legs hanging off the bed. “I wasn’t punishing you. I just don’t have enough control for you to put your mouth on me right now.” He takes my hand and guides it to his pants. When my fingers brush the fabric, I can feel how hard he is.
“Oh,” I whisper, feeling a little reassured as I trace his thickness with my fingers. While I’m still touching him, he tugs down his zipper, and the fabric loosens before he pushes his jeans down. My hand is still in place, so I touch his bare skin tentatively. My fingers wrap around him, and his stomach tightens.
“Are you testing me?” he asks darkly with hooded eyes.
“No.” I let my fingers trace his tip before pulling my hand away.
“Scoot back,” he demands, then moves his legs, getting rid of his pants and crawling up after me. Instead of climbing over me, he lies down next to me, pulling me over with eager hands until I’m leaning over him and my leg is hiked up over his.
Even while lying under me, he’s still the one in control. He has one hand on my butt and the other on my neck as he pulls me down to kiss him. Once our lips meet and he slips his tongue in my mouth, his hand on my nape starts to travel until he’s teasing my nipple again.
My hips roll and rock, and he uses his hand on my ass to encourage the movement so I’m grinding against him, but I want more. I want to feel his fingers between my legs again. As if he’s reading my thoughts, he whispers, “Come here,” between kisses while pulling me on top of him.
Our eyes lock once I’m above him. It’s the most intensely intimate thing I’ve ever experienced. I feel more than naked, I feel raw and exposed, like he can see every inch of me. For a heartbeat, I worry it’s too much, but then Memphis reaches up and traces his thumb along my jaw. His eyes track the movement as if he’s just as enthralled as I am, leaving no room for self-doubt or worry.
He pulls me down to his mouth again, and my nipples drag along his chest with every breath I take. When our lips are barely touching, he says, “I’m going to make you come, and when you’re wet and dripping down my fingers, I’m going to slip inside you and make you mine.”
“Okay,” I answer. My heart is beating so fast, I can feel it throbbing in my head. Memphis kisses me then, sweet and unrushed. His hand trails down my back and around my hip, lighting a fire with his touch. I catch myself holding my breath more than once, just so I can focus completely on the sensations he elicits in my body.
When he finally slides his fingers up my thigh, I lift up, eager for his touch. “Good girl.” His deep voice curls around the words, making them even more delicious than usual. I cannot explain why those two little words mean so much to me, but it’s almost addictive. The more I hear it, the more I want to.
When he touches my clit, my mouth falls open on a pant, and I can’t even pretend to focus on him kissing me. Instead, I bury my face in his neck, and I let my lips and tongue roam over his skin.
I lift a little more with his guidance, and he slides his finger back, pushing a little inside me before returning to swirl his finger around my clit until I’m anticipating the pattern and my hips are moving with him. With each pass, he pushes his finger a little deeper, preparing me.
I’m getting close to coming, and the knowledge almost makes me a little nervous. I start to wonder how badly it’s going to hurt and if it will hurt him too because I’m a virgin.
I find that one little spot on his shoulder that I wanted to kiss so badly earlier, and I let it distract me. I bite a little, just like he does to me, then I suck on him. Memphis huffs out a breath, tipping his head back, and the tip of his finger stays on my clit, swirling and rubbing, pushing me over the edge, and I start to come. I moan with my lips still on his skin, and his other hand bites into my hip roughly before he jerks me down, hard and fast.
My mouth pops off his shoulder where I was sucking, and I stare into his eyes. I feel a burning sensation between my legs, and my inner muscles tighten convulsively. He’s breathing so hard, I realize it must hurt him too, but I’m not in that much pain. It feels more foreign than anything, and I feel bad if he’s hurting.
My intent is to ask if he’s okay, but the only thing that comes out is, “Memphis,” in a whispered plea.
