Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
He lifted me onto the hood of his car, shoving my skirt up so he could step in between my knees, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, worried that he would stop kissing me and it would all be over. I wasn’t ready to go back to real life, not when he was touching me and making every inch of my skin tingle with awareness.
Maybe it was because I was the middle child in a family that lived by the rule that children were seen and not heard, or maybe it was because I’d spent thirteen years of my life walking school hallways like a ghost—overlooked by everyone, or maybe it was just the fact that I was nineteen and I’d lived a sheltered life and now suddenly the world felt like it had broken wide open… but at no point did I think that we should stop. For once in my life, consequences felt as distant as the moon.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, running his mouth down my neck, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. “Can I—”
When he started unbuttoning my shirt, I must have completely lost all sense of reality, because I helped him. There was skin under my shirt and I needed his mouth on it.
I didn’t think about what would happen when it was all over. I didn’t worry about the fact that my parents were definitely looking for me by then or that I was getting in way over my head. This insanely attractive man was solely focused on me and I never wanted it to end. Every step of the process happened so gradually that I was dying for the next step and by the time it happened I was ready.
I was completely topless by the time he laid me down across the front seat of his car, my feet dangling out of the open door. As he sucked on my nipples and his hands swept my skirt to my waist I felt drunk on him, drunk on the feeling of his body pressing against mine and his mouth on my skin. My mom had warned me that the first time was terrible, but this was the opposite. My skin was on fire. My heart was racing.
I didn’t even flinch when his fingers trailed up my legs and began to slide delicately over the slippery skin between my thighs. I was so frantic for him by then, stopping was the very last thing on my mind.
I should’ve been nervous. Scared, even.
I wasn’t. For once, I wasn’t afraid of anything. I felt invincible. Beautiful. Wanted.
“Otto,” I breathed, pulling on his shirt.
He leaned back and whipped it over his head and I stared at the muscular chest above me, dimly lit by the bonfire outside. I hadn’t known that people were actually built like that in real life. His muscles had muscles.
I slid my hands down his torso, marveling at the definition and he shuddered as I reached his waistband.
“You sure?” he asked, his hands covering mine.
It was dark, he’d turned off the overhead light when he’d opened the door so we wouldn’t be illuminated for everyone to see, but I could still just barely make out the bulge in the front of his jeans.
I didn’t want to stop. It was the only chance I would ever have and I knew it. What we were doing, the desperation and the need and the overwhelming sensations would never come again. I wanted to see him. I wanted to feel him. I wanted him to be as vulnerable as I was.
“I’m sure,” I said, fumbling with the button on his jeans.
Leaning up as far as I could, I wrapped my hand around him, marveling at the way he shuddered and arched toward me. I felt powerful in that moment, a novelty for someone who’d grown up the way I had.
Then he was reaching into his pocket and pulling out a condom and I was blissfully watching him roll it on, fascinated by the way his forearm tightened as he stroked himself. By the time he leaned down over me and wrapped my legs around his back, I was practically shuddering with need.
Reality hit me like a crushing wave as he thrust forward. He wasn’t abrupt by any means, but he didn’t go slowly either and before I could open my mouth to say a word, he’d broken my hymen and was lodged completely inside me.
“You good?” he whispered in my ear. “This okay?”
What was I supposed to say? No? That it hurt? That I was pretty sure he’d broken something? I didn’t want it to be over, even though I knew that for me the magic of the moment had passed. He was still gently running his fingers over my skin and through my hair that had pooled around my head. His body was still vibrating with desperation.