He climbs up next to me, planting a kiss on my shoulder, then nuzzles into the hair at the back of my neck. I’m still shaking.
“Was that good?” His tone is smug and gentle all at once.
“I can’t feel my toes.”
His pupils dilate until only a thin ring of brown remains, and his gaze drops to my lips, lingering there with an obvious hunger and my breath catches in my throat. “You’re so wet right now, I bet you could handle me.” He asks for my hand, and I let him guide me to the thick, hard bulge in his pants. He lets me try to map out his girth and length like constellations, but I can’t make out the entire picture. Taio stands at least a foot taller than me, with hands twice the size of mine, but this defies proportion.
“How do you feel?” he asks. “We can slow down.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to slow down.”
Taio leans over and kisses me sweetly. His lips are gentle, undemanding, but his hand travels up my thigh in a languid, intimate sweep. He palms the side of my hip, thumb stroking small, lazy circles there, like he’s coaxing me open one inch at a time. He kisses around my mouth, my jaw, the shell of my ear—little pecks, like he’s sampling. With every touch, I’m melting, my body turning right back to syrup underneath him.
“Charlie,” he murmurs, and the way he says my name—low, like a prayer—makes me want to cry for no reason. “This isn’t fucking, okay?”
“What is it?” I ask, confused.
“Something more. I promise you that. For your first time you should know this means a great deal to both of us.”
I press my cheek into his shoulder and nod, not sure I’m ready for words yet. Slow, yes. Safe. I want to remember this, every second.
He slides his hand up my torso, pausing at my ribs, then cups my breast with a reverence that makes me forget how small they are, or their slight asymmetry. Taio touches me like I’m sacred. His thumb grazes my nipple, and my breath skips. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t pinch or grope or do anything movie-men do. He just holds, massages, waits for me to tell him what I like. The patience alone is enough to make my core clench.
He climbs on top of me, his weight on his hands and knees, his body a protective cloak around me. Then, he drops his hips, grinding against my naked center with his pants-sheathed hardness. The wave of aggressive need that washes over me is foreign. Something new and primal, like the only thing that matters is Taio’s body melded into mine. He’s way too big for this to be comfortable in any way, but it’s okay. I’ll take the pleasure. I’ll take the pain. I’ll take everything if it keeps me close to him.
“Tell me if you want to stop,” he says, and I realize I’m still trembling.
I manage, “Don’t stop.”
He smiles, sweet and open. It makes me want to kiss him again, so I do, my hands threading up into his hair. It’s so fucking soft. He groans into my mouth, shifting his weight so the tip of his cock nudges against my clit.
I run my foot along the back of his calf, testing the weight of his leg above me. He’s solid, but not crushing. I feel small underneath him, but not at all powerless. If anything, I’m the one in control—he’s the one waiting for my next move, holding himself back so I can catch up.
When he finally peels the teddy off my arms, he does it with slow, careful hands, leaving kisses behind on each new inch of skin. He doesn’t comment on my body, doesn’t make a joke or a compliment, just lets his hands do the talking. I can feel how much he wants me in every touch.
I’m trembling as I reach for his waistband. He bridges his hips so I can work the waistband of his bottoms down.
Then, the sound of voices…
We both freeze, wondering if we imagined it.
The sound fades, then returns. Definitely real, definitely happening.
Taio leaps to his knees, clasps his hands around my mouth, telling me with a finger to the lips to be quiet. His ears are perked, fire in his eyes, and I realize he’s not worried about getting caught. He thinks there are intruders. Wordlessly, he lets go of my mouth and points to the closet.Hide. I’ll handle this.
I reach up and place a hand on each cheek. “Taio, it’s fine,” I whisper.
His eyes are bewildered, probably wondering why I’m sabotaging his heroic sacrifice. “I’m responsible for you, Charlie. It’s my job to protect you,” he whispers. His eyes say don’t fuck with him. He’ll hog-tie and throw me in that walk-in closet himself if it means my safety.
Maybe Claire is right. I’m looking at Taio and right now he looks far more like Superman than Joker.
“My hero,” I say. “But there’s nothing to save me from. Those are my dancers. I invited them over. They have a key. It must already be two o’clock.”
Taio’s eyes shift left, then right. “Invited them over for what? To announce your deflowering?”
I chuckle underneath him, rubbing his strong forearms. “No. To team-bond. To make some performance changes. I… Well,you slept in really late, and I didn’t know how the striptease was going to go. I didn’t think we’d be doing this.”
There’s a loud splash. We both glance to the far window which luckily has the drapes closed. “They enter someone else’s home and just immediately dive into the pool?” Taio asks.
