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She gazes down at me, her eyes searching mine. “I lied to you because Camille told me she kissed you in the back of a limo, and I wanted revenge.”
“Camille Alawi?” I ask with a frown.
“I thought that if you should have my first kiss, then it’s only fair I ought to have yours.”
With a lazy smile, I roll us over in my bed, pinning her underneath my body, my hardening cock pressing against her thigh.
“Youdidget my first kiss, Theo. I never kissed Camille in the back of a limo, or anyone else for that matter. But I’d kissyouin the back of a limo.”
“I got your first kiss?” she asks, a glimmer in her eyes.
“Mm-hm. All my firsts are yours, Theo. My first crush, my first fantasy. My first kiss. My first love. My first time.”
“Your first time?” she asks. “Are you sure?”
“I think I ought to know.”
“Must be beginner’s luck, then,” she mutters.
I smirk. “Or I’m just a quick learner.”
“Definitely luck.”
“Only one way to disprove your theory beyond doubt. Data-based research via practical experiment.”
“Such dirty talk,” she sighs. With a wicked smile, she arches up, her nipples sliding against my chest, sending blood rushing to my cock. “Who would have thought you were such a slut, Zachary Blackwood?”
“I’m not a slut.” I laugh. “I’myourslut.”
“You’re mine?” she asks, wrapping her arms around my neck, tenderness blossoming in her forget-me-not eyes.
“Yes, my darling adversary. I’m yours. For now and forever.”
“Promise?”
“I swear it.”
Chapter 38
Sunshine Scandal
Theodora
Ifeellikeadifferent person when I go back to Spearcrest.
Not because I’ve lost my virginity—I don’t really believe sex changes a person—or because I feel like I’ve suddenly aged. I’ve always felt older than my years, sex was never going to change that.
I feel different because, for the first time, I don’t feel cold or numb or empty.
The last few days of the holiday, spending time in the warmth of Zachary’s presence, or gossiping and playing games with Zahara, even the cosy evenings of sharing snacks while watching Iakov doggedly play his video game even though he kept dying—those were the best days of my life.
Never before had I realised the difference it makes to spend time around loving people. Like going from a cold, sunless winter to a summer flooded with sunshine.
The sunshine of Zahara’s affection, the way she would ask me for advice, or go on walks with me, or sit and braid my hair while I continued our reading ofThe Pirate Lord’s Captive Bride. The sunshine of the Blackwoods’ admiration for me, the way they kept engaging me in discussions on a spectrum of subjects as if they were genuinely interested in what I had to say. The way they shamelessly expressed their approval of me as if Zachary had brought me home for a bride and they were happy to welcome me into the family—even though Zachary and I never gave away the changed nature of our relationship.
Love radiated from Zachary, richer and warmer than sunshine, when he would kiss my neck when we sat in his study working on our assignments or when he would sneak into my bedroom at night to lie between my legs and lick me until I was stifling moans and cries into my pillows.
By the end of the holidays, I even developed the closest thing I could achieve to a friendship with Iakov, given he barely ever spoke and that Zachary acted like a spinster chaperone whenever he was around.
