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I'm too shocked to laugh, I just stare at him.

"I had every intention of fucking you here," he says, "because there's something between us and I want you."

I bite my lip. "I want you too."

"But you deserve for your first time to be better than in the hallway of a club." His finger that's still inside me moves, a slow caressing movement. Gentler than his initial thrust. "But just because I'm not going to fuck you doesn't mean I still can't make you come."

My hands are still on his shoulders, and I move them to hold onto him, grasping his neck. There's still part of me that thinks he's going to leave. "Why would you do that?" I ask. "What's in it for you?"

Eric's lips brush my jaw again. "Has anyone ever given you an orgasm before?" I shiver when his breath touches my skin.

"No," I breathe. "No one but me."

"Then I can be the first," he says. "And when I have the chance to take you to bed properly, I will. Because believe me, Sally, I want to be that first too."

He moves again, just his thumb, brushing it across my clit, and I gasp. Everything about this, his hands, my wetness, the relief that he's not going to leave me behind, it's all swirling together into perfect arousal.

Small movements, perfect circles, and that one finger rocking against my g-spot. I didn't even know that I really had a g-spot. I'd tried all the things, the articles and the toys, and I never seemed to feel anything different. But when his finger brushes inside, there's an explosion of sensation and internal pleasure.

"Do you want to come?" he asks, continuing to tease me. "If you don't, tell me to stop."

"No," I say too quickly. "No, don't stop. Please." It's too late to sound like I'm not begging, but I can't even care. I'd happily get on my knees and beg. Because he's not walking away. He wants me and I don't know how someone like this looked at me and decided yes. But as long as I'm in this dream, I'm going to keep it.

Eric moves his fingers, more insistently, but still gentle, and then he kisses me. His other hand slips behind my neck and tangles in my hair. My head is pulled back firmly so he can deepen the kiss as much as he likes, and the sudden vulnerability curls in my gut, turning me on even more. He laughs against my mouth because he can feel it when I grow even more wet.

The combination of swirling pressure on my clit and the stroking of his finger is new and overwhelming and oh my God. My legs start to shake, and the pleasure building in my gut spreads through me, deepens and clings, sustaining as he moves faster. He's stopped kissing me, instead staring at me, watching my face with his forehead pressed against mine as I fall apart.

His hand tightens in my hair and I feel like I can't breathe. I don't want to breathe, because I'm afraid the pleasure will disappear. I can feel my thoughts starting to intrude, doubts and worry and a disbelief that no one has discovered us and that I'm actually doing this. I start to lose a grip on the building pleasure because I'm starting to think and God, no, I don't want it to disappear.

Eric stops moving his hand, and my eyes flash to his. "Breathe," he says, and I do. "Again."

I do.

"There's no one but us," he says. "No one here to see."

He moves again, lowering his mouth to my skin, grazing across my collarbone and down between my breasts and I'm not thinking about anything other than his lips on my skin and his hand between my legs and the pleasure comes roaring back in a wave. I'm pinned between his hands and I close my eyes, following the feeling.

Pleasure bounces back and forth between my clit and inside and spreads, up and out, and I let it build. Let it take me. My breath comes in gasps and suddenly it's there. The light behind my eyes goes bright and I cry out, the sound swallowed in the echoes of the club's noise as I come. The pleasure is pure and sweet and Eric wrings it from me, fingers never stopping as I come around them.

It's still swirling through me, the pleasure from that spot a different kind than I've experienced before. It crests in ripples that echo outward after that first burst of orgasm has passed. And when it's finally finished, I'm panting and breathless, practically limp in his arms.

Eric is gentle as he removes himself from me, letting my skirt fall back into place. And then I think that I could come again, because he raises his fingers to his lips and tastes me. Holy fuck. There's a sexy smirk on his face when he sees that my mouth has dropped open. "You taste good, Sally. I'll remember that next time."

God, I think I'm wetter than I was before. And I’m still speechless.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” I manage to say. “I just—this isn’t what I was expecting. That was…very nice, thank you.”

Eric laughs. “No thanks needed, but you’re very welcome.” He leans close. “It was a pleasure.”

It suddenly occurs to me that he could just be nice. That he could just be humoring me, and then I’ll never hear from him again. “Are you sure?” I ask.

“I’m not lying to you,” he says with a smile. “No running away here.” He takes my hand. “Besides, I still need you to be my date, remember?”

“Yeah.” I feel a little delirious as he leads me back to the technicolor club.

“Have one more drink before we go,” he says, and I find myself nodding, because I honestly don’t think I could speak.

6

Eric

I wake up with Sally’s name on my lips.

A virgin.

I swear to God I didn’t see that coming. Not that I think anyone would have seen that coming. A woman that sexy? There’s no way that I would have imagined that.

It’s never like me to drag someone into the back of a club for a quick fuck, but it didn’t feel like that last night. It felt like if I didn’t have her right then that I wouldn’t be able to keep breathing. But then…

I didn’t just wake up with her on my mind, I woke up with the biggest hard-on I think I’ve ever had in my life. It hurts, it’s so hard, and I’m not surprised. I dreamed about us tangled together all night. I want her in a way that’s completely off-the-charts. And I want to be her first more than anything I’ve ever wanted.

Whoever were the people she referred to who walked away when she admitted she was a virgin make me angry. You have a beautiful woman in front of you, who’s attracted to you, and you have the chance to create a perfect first experience for her and you say no?

That is unthinkable to me.

I glance over at the clock. Shit. I’m late. But I can’t bring myself to move. I’d much rather be here and think about Sally and all the possibilities than go into the office and deal with whatever shit storm is waiting for me on the day before fucking Valentine’s Day.

I spend another couple of minutes relaxing, and reveling in my thoughts before I have to get up. When we finished in the hallway, I brought her back our alcove in the VIP section, and we had another drink. I think she was a little overwhelmed, because she didn’t say much, but the way she let me tuck her against me was perfect.

And when we finished that drink I took her to a cab, and kissed her good night. I’m going to text her today, because there’s no way that I’m waiting until the party to see her again. No way. But even as sweet as that was, it’s not what my mind keeps coming back to.

Watching Sally come was a revelation. I had that same reaction that I had when she entered my office, that she was so pure and unexpected. The look on her face is burned in my brain.

The way her lips parted, hips tilting into my hand, and the way she was dripping wet for me. God, all of the blood in my body is in my cock and I can’t wait anymore. I sit up and strip off my boxers, stepping into the shower and barely waiting for the water to be hot enough.

There’s no waiting. Holding myself back last night and all the dreams have me on edge, and my cock falls into my hand before I’m even fully in the water. Images are popping up in my mind: Sally laid out on the bed I just left, in the throes of the pleasure that I’m giving her—pleasure she’s never had with anyone else. Every stroke my hand makes

is bringing me closer, and I let the picture expand.

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