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“I’m really nervous,” I admit while fiddling with my flannel nightgown’s collar. “I’m also worried if I wait too long, something will happen, and I’ll miss out on my chance.”
“I don’t want you to force yourself. This isn’t a vacation where you’re on a time crunch. We’re building something real and permanent.”
Smiling at his reassuring words, I explain, “I’ve been in a state of arrested development since that summer. I went to school, started a business, had a lot of grown-up experiences, yet I still feel like that scared, teenage girl. I want to get unstuck. You were what I wanted then and what I crave now. But I will absolutely find reasons not to have sex. Not just now but in a year or ten. I sabotage myself. You know I do. You see how I can’t let myself be happy. I’m asking you to help me right now before I find a reason to go back to my room.”
Walla Walla wraps his arms around me and strokes my hair. I sense he’s trying to coddle rather than fuck me. He still very quickly sports an erection barely concealed by his boxers. I feel it poking my belly as he holds me.
“I’m in love with you,” he says in a soft voice as he shuffles us toward a dresser where he uses a remote to lower the lights. “I like how different we are. I’ve been me for a long time. I want to see the world from your eyes.”
“If you could see yourself through my eyes, you’d know why I’m both obsessed with you and certain I’m not enough.”
“Well, if you could see through my eyes, you’d know why I never forgot you. It’d make sense how I held out hope. Or the reason I insisted you come with me once we finally met. You make me crazy in a way no one else does.”
His words lift a burden from my chest. Despite knowing what I want, I haven’t been undressed in front of a man since the night in the barracks.
However, I trust Walla Walla completely. When I was rubbing up against him while stoned, he could have enjoyed what I offered. Instead, he protected me from myself.
Walla Walla’s lips feel sexy yet familiar on mine. I’ve gotten to know the real man. He’s better than I imagined. In my fantasies, he was always a bit cold and rather unattainable. The real Walla Walla radiates warmth. Even when he killed those men, he never became callous or rough with me. His good heart refuses to be silenced.
Before moving us to the bed, Walla Walla kneels and slides his hands up my nightgown to my panties. I inhale sharply, nervous about what happens next. Walla Walla looks up at me as his fingers softly loop the fabric and wiggle it downward.
“I’ve waited a long time for you,” he says in voice laced with need and tenderness. “I don’t plan to rush this moment.”
Smiling at him, I stroke his forehead and admire my dream man. Once my panties drop to my feet, I step out of them and run my fingers through his damp hair. The room smells of his recent shower, and my body warms at the thought of him soaped up.
Walla Walla nuzzles my belly through my nightgown as his hands explore underneath. I sigh at the feel of his fingers teasing my bare back. He stands and kisses me. I lean into his embrace, trusting him completely.
Then, when his fingers brush across my nipples, I shiver and step back. A part of me panics. I’m certain I’m in danger. Looking around the room, I only find the man I love. Stepping away from him has left me cold.
I wrap my arms around his neck and lean into his embrace. Walla Walla’s hands move across my back. He’s careful and never greedy. I sense he’s training me to accept his touch. That’s also why he hasn’t removed my nightgown.
Our kisses grow heated. My skin is flushed, and a sticky need grows between my legs. I’m unable to see past this moment.
Walla Walla’s hands return to my breasts. His fingers test me again. This time, I lean into his touch. His thumbs brush across my hard nipples, inspiring me to moan.
Drunk on lust, I slide my hands down his chest to his boxers and tease the fabric. I’m unsure what I’m supposed to do with myself. I only want more. How can I make him help me alleviate the painful heat between my legs?
“I don’t know what’s normal,” I mumble when his lips leave mine long enough for me to speak.
Walla Walla nips at my throat as he murmurs, “Everyone is different. Tell me what you want.”
Clenching my pussy, I can’t say the words. My voice might remind me of the world outside this room. I’m afraid to drop into the past. I only want to know this man.
Walla Walla and I dissolve into a flurry of hot touches and wet kisses. We sway as if dancing to an unheard song. He turns me around and rests my back against his chest. His hands cup my breasts, teasing my nipples before sliding down to my belly.
I moan at the feel of his lips tasting my throat. My brain is fuzzy with arousal. I don’t even realize he’s tugged up my nightgown until I feel his fingers against my bare pussy. Sighing with surprise and pleasure, I reach upward to cup his face with one hand.
Walla Walla slides open my wet, overheated pussy and dips his finger inside. I groan his name in a wildly unguarded way. I feel as if I’ve been stripped of everything except this moment with Walla Walla. Nothing exists beyond his finger making possessive circles around my clit.
My name on his lips sounds like a promise. I trust in him in a way I never will any other man. He’s the only one. After years of loneliness and longing, I can finally claim the heart I’ve wanted to be mine.
MARTIN
Austen makes me fucking crazy. I can’t think straight. As soon as she enters the room, filling it with her floral scent and curious presence, I struggle against the urge to spread Austen out on my bed and flip the lights on bright. I ache to see her pale skin, explore her freckles, and claim her every curve.
I can’t indulge that desire. Austen needs me to take my time. She might be in her thirties, yet she’s never given herself to a man before. My mission is to fuck us both into submission without triggering memories of that violent night.
That’s why I take my time despite my dick begging for relief.
