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“So fucking sweet.”
“Quaid,” she moans, grinding her pussy lips erratically on my mouth.
I keep at it, mercilessly griping at her waist, while my ruthless tongue plays with her hidden nub. She pulls my hair, almost yanking it at its roots, losing all restraint.
“Quaid! Something’s happening!” she whisper-yells, having a hard time holding onto reality, anxious to learn what’s on the other side, leaving me feeling fucking victorious.
I don’t relent and just worship her with my tongue, cherishing the taste of her on it.
“Quaid,” she shouts this time, finally going over the precipice.
I continue to lap at her, prolonging her orgasm, and only when I’m sure she is sated and content do I stand back up on my feet and kiss her. Her face is flushed, and her forehead dons a gorgeous sheen of glistening sweat. Her knees can’t stop wobbling, so I hold her tight to keep her steady.
“Thank you,” I whisper, inhaling her strawberry scent.
“For what?”
“For letting me be your first.”
Her brows draw together in sadness, and before she can say anything to ruin the moment, I kiss her. Once I feel her body melt into mine, I pull away and press my temple to hers.
“I want you to be my date for Winter Formal.”
“That sounds more like an order and less like an invite,” she jokes, giving me a soft punch in the gut.
“Fine,” I chuckle. “Will you be my date for Winter Formal then?”
“Yes,” she says, beaming.
As her eyes sparkle with so much happiness in them, I almost say the words that have been lodged in my throat since the very first day I saw her.
I love you.
But instead of uttering those words out loud, I go for another kiss, silencing my exposed heart—doubt and fear keeping me silent. Deep in my soul, I know my heart will only ever love Valentina. There will never be another for me.
I’m just not sure the same can be said for her, and it fucking terrifies me that one day, I’ll have to find out.
Valentina
“Val, your date is here,” my dad hollers from downstairs.
“Just a minute,” I yell back as I quickly check my makeup one more time in the mirror.
I’m nervous and excited all at the same time. It’s going to be my first official dance on Quaid’s arm. We usually either bail on school dances all together or go with a large group of his friends, mostly the guys from the football team and their significant others.
But not tonight.
It feels like a turning point in our relationship somehow. Or maybe we took that step further earlier this week when we made out under the bleachers. My cheeks glow a soft shade of pink just remembering what we did to each other. With my lovesick heart beating madly in my chest, I count from one to ten, just to keep my composure together. Excited to start this night, I walk down the stairs, but am disappointed when Quaid isn’t there to see me walk down them in my dress. Muffled voices carry from the living room, and silently, I make my way there, hiding myself behind the wall. My curiosity is piqued to hear my dad and Quaid talking in hushed voices, since neither one of them are known for their subtle behavior.
“That’s a bold claim for a seventeen-year-old,” my father utters, his tone sounding troubled.
“It’s not bold, Mr. E. I’m just stating the facts. And we’ll both be eighteen when I do it, I just wanted your blessing before I ask Val,” Quaid replies, his voice resolute and firm.
“It seems to me you can still wait a few more months to get it. As you said, you’ll only be popping the question when you both graduate, so a lot can happen from now until then.”
The excited high I was living a few seconds ago just took a nosedive, my chest tightening at the topic of their conversation.
“Be it now or in a few months, nothing will change my mind. I will ask your daughter to marry me.”
