Fuck I’ve missed how beautiful she is.
I sink to one knee in front of her, eyes level now and start unbuttoning her blouse with slow movements. One button. Two. Her breathing gets louder with each one.
“Tell me if anything feels wrong,” I say quietly. “Anything at all. I stop. No questions.”
She told me since that night, she’s never been with anyone else, so for me this is her first time, and I’m going to be soft this first time. After that, I’m going to show her that the men in her books are nothing compared to what I can make her scream.
“I know.” Her fingers tremble as she reaches for my wrists, not to stop me, just to hold on. “I trust you. I’ve always trusted you.”
I finish the buttons, ease the fabric off her shoulders, and let it pool around her wrists. I lean in to kiss her again, as I remove her bra, reaching behind her, flicking the clasp, and draw it down her arms.
I lean in closer to her, so she lies back on the bed, feeling her hard nipples through the fabric of my t-shirt.
Kissing her collarbone, and moving down, I kiss the slope of one breast, then the other. Slow open-mouthed kisses. When I close my lips around a nipple she gasps, fingers flying to my hair. I suck gently, then a little harder when her hips jerk forward.
“Hayden—oh?—”
I’m going to have so much fun with her, when she gets used to this, I’ll be teaching her so much.
I switch sides, give the same attention, while my hands slide up her thighs, under her skirt, hooking into the waistband of her underwear. I tug. She lifts her hips without me asking.
Good girl.
The scrap of fabric comes away damp. I groan against her skin.
“You’re already so wet for me,” I murmur, my voice rough. “You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?” Because God I have, so many times I’ve thought about her naked and sexy under me.
“Yes,” the single word escapes with a whimper.
I stand, pull my shirt over my head in one motion, kick off my shoes. Then I’m back on her, crawling over her until my weight is braced on my forearms. I kiss her again, slower this time, letting her taste how much I want her.
My hand drifts between us, fingers finding her slick heat. I circle her clit with the lightest pressure, teasing, patient, until her thighs start to tremble and little broken sounds slip out of her.
“Feel good?” I ask against her mouth.
“So good, please don’t stop.”
I don’t. I keep the rhythm steady, slide one finger inside her, slowly carefully. She’s tight, so fucking tight, and the way she clenches around me makes my vision blur for a second.
“Relax for me, baby,” I whisper. “Breathe. Let me in.” I know this is hard for her, and I need her to relax before I can even think about thrusting into her.
She exhales shakily. I add a second finger, curl them gently, find that spot that makes her back bow off the bed.
“Oh God.” The moan is a little louder. That was a promise I made her, everyone at this campus will know she’s mine by the time we walk out of this room.
I work her clit with my thumb, until her hips are rolling, chasing my hand, until her breathing turns into soft, desperate sobs.
“Come on my fingers first,” I tell her, voice low and commanding. “Let me feel how much you want me inside you.”
I know these books she reads have dirty talk in them, and I’m going to give it to her.
She shatters with a choked cry, her walls pulsing hard, and her thighs clamping around my wrist. I kiss her through it, swallowing every sound, murmuring against her lips how beautiful she is, how perfect, how mine.
When the aftershocks fades, I pull my hand away, lick my fingers clean while she watches with wide, stunned eyes. Then I strip the rest of my clothes, roll on a condom, and settle back between her thighs.
I notch myself at her entrance, but don’t push in yet. I just let her feel the blunt pressure.
“Look at me,” I say.
