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He had had a long time to learn me, and had the time to learn what I was capable of experiencing when he was in control of my body. I knew he hadn’t forgotten what I’d freely given him all those years ago even though my virginity had been on the table, and that knowledge enabled me to relax right into his tender seduction.
My hands clutched at his lower back, the fingers digging deep into the muscle there when he pressed close to me, wrapping me up in the best naked hug imaginable. He groaned at my touch, and I loved the gentle vibration against my lips when he brought our mouths together, and I caught the tail end of his response to my barely there massage.
As he thrust his tongue into my mouth, I tasted all of him, and loved how his touch, as he shaped my waist and hips, was so sure and confident. He was the same boy I’d loved, but there was experience now behind his caresses. The idea could have irritated me, but it didn’t. I wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Cooper, inexperienced, had had the ability to rock my world.
With experience? I didn’t expect to survive.
As he parried his tongue, rubbing his against mine, stealing my breath from my very lips, his hand curved around the peachy globe of my ass. His fingers slid between the cheeks, and I felt him there.
For the first time in so long, someone was touching me intimately, and my body wept as a result. Of course, it was more than just someone. It was Cooper, the keeper of my heart. Something that just strengthened my responses to him thousandfold.
Shuddering, I felt my breath stutter in my chest as he circled the entrance to my body. I suppose I should have been embarrassed by how wet I was, but that thought had long since disappeared. Not since the early days of our fooling around had I felt embarrassment at my responses to his touch, and my inhibitions were as low around him as they’d always been.
My mouth was working on autopilot, almost like it knew the motions, leaving my brain to focus on what he was doing to me elsewhere. And I was grateful for the respite, because I was so aware of what he was doing, it shot every minute touch into the stratosphere.
He almost tickled me there. That was how gentle the caress was. Yet no matter how gentle it was, it had me shooting up onto tiptoe. The move inadvertently gave him more access, and with his other hand, he slid that between my legs too. This time, his access was frontal. And the minute he touched my clit, fireworks set off behind my eyelids.
The explosion was miniature, I knew that. It was a small orgasm, and it spoke of my desperate need at that moment in time. I didn’t have it in me to be embarrassed. Not with Cooper. Never with him. It wasn’t the first time he’d made me experience such pleasure, and it wouldn’t be the last.
That I came so quickly, and from barely any foreplay, pleased him. I could tell. Maybe it was stupid of me to think it, but I felt sure his muscles bulged up in response, like the most masculine parts of him were flexing with pride at what he’d made me feel so quickly.
The crazy thing was, I couldn’t exactly chide him for that. He’d managed what no other man had after hours of being fondled and caressed by them. The truth was, I’d never experienced an orgasm without him. The power that gave him pissed me off. Or, that was to say, it had pissed me off. Now he was here, I could rejoice in the freedom my body gave him where my pleasure was concerned. After years of drought, finally the rain was flowing.
Literally.
He nipped my bottom lip, and speared my mouth with his tongue again as he caught the bud of my clit between the joints of his pointer and middle finger. I squealed into his mouth, and the tender throbbing that appeared at his pinching had my eyes popping open in response. Surprise stole my breath as a few realizations came to me. I was so sensitive, that it belied the small orgasm I’d just had. Making me realize how unaccustomed my sex was to pleasure. While also making me aware of how ready it was for this moment. Because though I was sensitive, more than anything, I felt an impatience. The riding, driving urge for more. A desperate need for him.
Though he carried on kissing me, I pressed my forehead to his, needing the grounding touch to help get me through these frightening moments as the immaturity of my responses leaped forth. He ignored my squeal, ignored my reaction, carried on with what he was doing—gently circling my opening with one hand, and with the other, taunting my clit.
I could feel myself trembling, almost like it was happening to somebody else. My nervous system was in shock, and that came as no surprise considering he possessed this part of me. Owned it, had branded it with his name a long time ago.
I tightened my thighs about his hands, reducing the freedom of access he had to my most sensitive parts, but that didn’t seem to slow him down. If anything, it encouraged him when I hadn’t meant to at all.
Suddenly, the gentle pinching of his knuckles turned into something else. And I knew he was responding to the tightening of my muscles, that he was punishing me for not laying myself bare to his every whim. And that punishment manifested in a demand for my release: he began to rub my clit in earnest, and my eyes flashed open once again in response. I then moaned into his lips as he frigged my clit hard and fast.
I didn’t have the breath to complain, didn’t even have the words. Could do nothing more than simply take what he wanted me to experience. And then, he thrust his finger inside me, making me feel the thickness of his digit deep inside tissues that had only ever been touched by him.
That gentle pain was more than I could stand, and it ripped past any
of my remaining inhibitions, few though they might have been, and let me experience what Cooper had only ever dragged out of my body. This orgasm was night to the earlier one’s day. It shot through me like an earthquake, making me question everything I thought I’d known about myself. Reminding me, once more, and as though I’d forgotten, that I was his. Intrinsically. Instinctively.
I wept against him, shuddering and shivering like a wreck. At that moment, he was so solid, so stable and secure in comparison to my quivering self, that I felt utterly taken care of, sheltered and cosseted by his stronger form.
He brought my body down from the highs he’d forced it to experience. Having taken me past several plateaus, having made me soar high into the sky as my sex experienced, for the first time in too long, the joys of climax. I wanted to weep, I wanted to laugh. The contradictory emotions were ones I’d grown accustomed to long ago when he’d made me experience such pleasure at his hands, so the discordant emotions didn’t frighten me, if anything I embraced the contrast. Loving how he made me feel. Like a woman. A real woman.
If I flew too close to the sun, I knew he’d be there to catch me, to keep me safe as I rode out the welter of joyous sensation he continued to ply from my sensitive self. And it was then, that I realized I trusted him. I’d made the decision for him to take me tonight, to finally rid me of my virginity without having realized the major step I taken. But it was now, as he tended to me, as he made me the center of our pleasure, that I came to see how the trust between us was back.
That thought alone had me shuddering again as relief this time filled me. But he mistook the gesture, instead hummed something soothing under his breath as he petted me, because there was no other way to describe it. I shuddered again at the gentle touch, then realizing he wasn’t going to make the first move, I pounced. Though my bones were like jelly, I had no choice. This couldn’t end here. There was no way the night was ending in any other way than his claiming me.
Leaping against him, I loved that he knew what I was about. His arms came up to grab me, to help me cling to him, my knees to his hips. The minute I was aloft, he pushed me against the wall once more and used the position to press his shaft into my wetness.
“Fuck, you’re so slick, Lauren,” he gasped against my mouth before he started to kiss me. His tongue slid against mine at the same rate of his cock against my sex.
Each thrust of his hips dragged the tip of his dick against my clit and I could feel my juices slipping from my body with each taunting move.
I loved it though, loved the different feel of him, the different texture of his skin against mine.
He was a man now, I realized. Just as I was a woman.
