Page 43 of Exit Strategy
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, or upset you,” I said softly.
“You didn’t,” she said. “You can try again, though.”
I kissed her on the lips. They were so soft, and I could feel her tremble in my arms. “This shouldn’t be happening,” I said in a pained whisper.
“Why not?” she asked, her words almost a foreign language, dark and heated.
“Because you’re still married, because of what he—” I was going to protest, but she pressed her lips to mine and silenced me. Her lips were still soft, but there was more force behind her kiss. There was a heat, and a need there too. She shifted and instead of knees and elbows against me, her full body was pressed into mine. I didn’t have a chance to shift so that my aching need wasn’t pressed against her stomach.
“Don’t say that,” she said. “He doesn’t own me anymore.”
Before I could respond, we kissed again. This seemed to go on, her lips parting, and then I felt her tongue. I felt like a filthy commoner, all coarse and crude, kissing a princess. I was in no way worth this sort of attention, this affection. No, I was meant for commoner women, with thick thighs and low-wage jobs, the sort who ate fried food, and smoked.
“Be gentle,” she said, stroking my chest with her hand. “I want to know what that’s like.”
“What?” I felt like whatever grounding I had under me had been suddenly washed away.
“He was the only man I’ve ever been with, and he was cruel. I don’t know how this is going to turn out, but I want to know what it’s like to make love…” she let her words trail off.
“Okay,” I agreed, hesitantly. My cock wanted me to rush in, but that was absolutely the wrong thing to do. Making love to her was the slightly wrong thing to do. The wise thing to do would be to apologize for all of this, and retreat to the couch in the cabin’s living room, or maybe to the front deck, where the cold mountain air would steal my overheated enthusiasm. I kissed her neck and her shoulder and started pulling my shirt up and off her. She moved to make that easier, and then it was a memory tossed to the floor. Her breasts were small, and even in the dark, I knew how pale and pink her nipples were. They were already firm before I touched them. When I did favor the first one with my lips, the noise Callie made seemed almost unnatural.
“I don’t know what you’re doing but I like it,” she said, her voice breathy. I stopped and looked up at her. I could barely make out the hint of her face in the dark, but knew she was looking down at me.
“Should I ask what youdoknow?”
“I only know two positions. Both involve me being on my knees, and I hate both of them,” she said.
“Good to know, we’ll avoid those,” I said. “But is this okay?” I gave her breast the slightest squeeze.
“I think I like that, but it feels weird.” She let out a breath. “It feels weird that I like it, not weird what you’re doing.”
“Okay, good,” I said. “If I do something you don’t like, please tell me, alright?”
“Okay.” I could feel her smile even in the dark.
I knew he was a bastard, but I didn’t suspect him of being that sort of bastard, but really, why was that a surprise? Arik cheated on her relentlessly, physically abused her, emotionally manipulated her and the whole New Eden cult. Why was it a surprise that she hadn’t experienced anything remotely resembling foreplay?
I kissed her body, light and soft, and slowly worked my way down to her panties. The thin fabric was the only thing between her and my affection. I kissed along the waistband, and then down the front of the sheer fabric. She let out another groan, and her entire body shuddered. When I moved her leg, she relaxed, and spread her legs for me. I felt a shudder of excitement run through me like electricity. I knew that I was working a wet spot into the front of my boxers, grinding against the sheets as I kissed against the crotch of her panties. I could almost taste her, and her scent filled my head.
I pulled her panties to the side and kissed her on the lips.
She shuddered and let out a high-pitched almost-animalistic sound. I started slowly, exploring her, and teasing her. I followed the contours of her body, finding her secrets with the tip of my tongue.
Had I been thinking about this?
Maybe I had been, but kept it buttoned down under a professional veneer.
This was how she should have been treated – lavished with tender affection, and protected. I ached, and the only thing that would ease that was to get out of the confines of my underwear and off of the bed. I reluctantly pulled away, feeling her hands caress the sides of my head. She was panting and sighed when I stopped.
“What are you doing?” she asked, breathless.
“Taking off my underwear,” I said. “I want you, if you’re ready.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this ready,” she said with a little giggle in her voice. “Which is a first.”
“That is a crime,” I said. I climbed back on the bed and felt her move.
“Just be gentle,” she said again.
