AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Paul’s large frame pushed into mine as he dragged one lone finger down my arm until finally threading his hand with mine. I watched him, inhaling as I took in every action, studying, cataloging, remembering.
“If we’re going to be married, then we need to start getting more comfortable with one another - start participating in the breeding program.” He spoke the words in a gentle whisper as if he were whispering sweet nothings to his lover. But these were not sweet nothings, and as the full weight of his words hit, I blushed. He wanted to start exploringsex- with me.
“Ok-ay.” I dragged out the word, agreeing to something I had no full knowledge of. Sure, I had read books and articles centered on the nature of the act itself. I had watched videos filled with porn, taking in the body movements and position changes - sometimes, I even felt the tingle of a flutterdown there, but none of that meant I wasprepared. “But I’ve never been with anyone before.” I blinked up at Paul, ignoring the way his proximity made me want tostep back- made me want to create somedistancebetween us. Being anything but honest wouldn’t serve me.
“You stayed purefor me?” He grinned down at me, finding the idea of me still being a virgin pleasing, somehow. I already knew that he wasn’t - that he hadn’t waited for me. My mother had already explained how the frameworks varied for men versus women. I nodded once, unsure what to say - unsure if my voice would even work. He squeezed my hand lightly, and something about that small action soothed me - reminded me that he and I were in this together. Maybe he was just as unsure as I was.
“Come. Let me heat up dinner.” He spoke softly, his hand pressing against mine as he tugged me along as I looked at him in surprise.Dinner.Paul organized dinner.
Something about that knowledge seemed as if this moment was a turning point - something to be diarised - noted for future celebration. The day I could look back upon with reminiscence - a story for our children.
Or, perhaps, I was simply being fanciful.
Supercilious, even.
Paul led me to the small dining room table that sat just off the kitchen - the same one I had set for breakfast only a week or so ago. This time, the table was set, boxes of takeout were laid out on the counter, the food dished up into various serving platters to make them appear more aesthetically pleasing, although I was certain that my stomach didn’t care. Nevertheless, there was an argument to be made about the level of enjoyment one gained from their food when it wasbothaesthetically pleasinganddelicious, with many citing that the aesthetics had the psychological effect of somehow enhancing flavor. I had never tested this theory.
I watched in fascination as Paul dished up a plate for himself first, plating everything with forceful precision, before dishing up mine afterwards. He didn’t cook, but mother had already taught me that most men didn’t - it would bemy jobto cook and cater and manage our house-staff when it came to our dietary requirements. I glanced over the plate, taking in the masala like curry, the starchy rice mixed in with the sauce, creating a dish that was both spicey to the taste and heavy on the stomach. It didn’t seem the kind of dish to serve on a hot summer’s night in the middle of Texas, never mind the fact that Paul didn’tknow me- he didn’t know my likes and dislikes when it came to food - didn’t know my palette. Nonetheless, it was a sweet gesture.
Once we were both seated, Paul poured some red wine for the two of us - first for himself, and then for me, before shifting his chair closer to mine so that our thighs pressed together. I had no doubt that the intention was to be moreintimate- possibly evenromantic, but the action only served to make my palms sweaty and my anxiety spike.
He moved swiftly - fluidly, as if flirtation and physical human contact was the most natural experience in the world, and perhaps it was -to him. Instead, I shivered, the movement entirely involuntary, but Paul mistook my shiver to be of pleasure - not panic. He pressed his palm against my thigh, sliding his hand further and furtherup, and, in that moment, I had never been more grateful for the fact that I was wearing high-waisted dress pants. My chest expanded as I inhaled, stuttering and freezing in the process as Paul turned my face towards his, his fingers pressing lightly on my jaw in order to force the movement, and then, suddenly, his lips were mashed against mine. Or perhaps it wasn’t sudden at all - perhaps I truly was a naive girl that had no real business being here because, in hindsight, I should have seen this coming.
I had been kissedonce. It was when I was thirteen, and our Gardner had a son who was a year older than me. One day, his son tagged along with him to work, and I grewcurious. Not because he was beautiful - but because he was a boymy age. He was someone I couldspeakto - someone I couldstudy. He never shied away from my questions - even when they were odd, and from then on, he tagged along regularly - every Saturday, to be precise. For a long time, Saturday was my favorite day of the week. Until one Saturday, he kissed me.
The kiss waswet-sloppy-young. It was filled with both inexperience and promise, and that was probably what made it enjoyable. I never saw it coming - wasn’t prepared for it, and the serendipity of it all made it all the more sweeter.
But Mother saw. She showed me the footage as she reviewed the cameras, disgusted with my actions. His father lost his job as our head gardener, and I never saw the boy again. It had beenmy fault. Mother had said as much. I hadled him on- had filled him with the belief that he had some sort of claim to me.
Only, the entire time, I was certain that that was not what I’d done.
This kiss with Paul was nothing like that. It wasn’t sloppy nor sweet. It was cold andprecise, and it took me a moment to force my lips to move against his - tosoftenunder his touch, and, even then, I was certain I was doing it wrong.
He released my lips, groaning as he kissed his way down my neck while I sat there, my mind whirling with a million thoughts.Was it supposed to feel like this? Did I kiss him back properly? My neck feels wet.
His thumb pressed against the apex of my thighs - a demand for me to part for him, only I wasn’t sure if Ishould- or if Iwantedto. I had seen enough movies to know that this was the prelude to the grand act, but I wasn’t ready for such grandiose gestures - not when my mind was still reeling about whether this was indeed the correct way to kiss.
“Paul,” I gasped his name, pulling my neck free from his lips. Still, he clung on, sucking my flesh in an act that should have been erotic, but simply left me feeling… confused.
“Paul.” This time, when I spoke, my voice was stronger, more certain.
“Hmmmm?” He finally pulled away, his gaze glazed with something that he alone was feeling. “Can we, um…” I chewed my bottom lip as the humiliating blush of embarrassment spread across my face, “slow down a bit?”
He blinked, and, just like that, his lust was replaced with an expression akin to annoyance. “We can take it slow, Madilyn, but I’m not going to wait indefinitely. So,every daywe’ll build up to it until, eventually, there’s nothing to build up to.” His dark stare hardened against mine, and, this time, I nodded my consent. My time of innocence was coming to an end. I knew it would end this way - knew that Paul would be the one to break me in, but even that knowledge hadn’t prepared me because, somehow, in my mind, I thought that Paul would feelelectric-sweeter-right.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: LITERARY KNOWLEDGE
O’GRADY
I was never going to live this down. Holly would hold these books over my head forfuckingever - I had no doubt about it. But who else was I going to ask for some smutty female novels? It also wasn’t lost on me that I had borrowed this literature from the girl Paul was currently railing, only to give it to the girl he was set to marry.
That thought didn’t sit well within me - not the idea of Madi reading literary porn, but the idea that she was going to marry that shithead. It shouldn’t bother me. She wasn’t my problem -andshe was one ofthem, and yet the way she had looked at me the other night
Still, I wanted to give her something more to read than justtextbooks. It was partly for the shock value - I wanted to see the whites of her eyes when she realized exactly what I was handing her, but it was more than that - I was almost certain that Madi didn’t know what sheliked- didn’t know whatturnedher on, and maybe the book could help her figure that out. I wasn’t even sure why the fuck I cared, and as my boots hit the the stairs with each step on the way up to the rooftop, I wondered if the girl in question would even show. There was a very good chance that she would blow me off - as was her right, but I hoped she didn’t - if only so I could fuck with her some more.
She had that skittish act of innocence down, and for some fucked up reason I wasdrawnto that. Sure, I’d messed around with Society girls before - got a thrill out of touching theuntouchable, but those girls knew what they were doing - knew what they were getting themselves into - they wereexperienced.
Madi just seemed… confused.
