He chuckles. “Oh why, thank you. Glad I meet your standards.”
Laughing together feels good. Kurt is always serious, and I didn’t realize how worried I was that his constant, stony expression would turn out to match his personality.
His thumb strokes the skin between my thumb and my index finger, and I’m surprised by the effect that simple, innocent touch has on me.
A rush of liquid heat collects between my thighs and my inner muscles clench in a desperate search for release.
“Rebecca,” he whispers. “I know we’re already breaking your father’s rules, but we’re going to say I do tomorrow night. Byron told me that he thinks we would produce some incredibly talented children. I agree with him. But talking about children and forever feels strange when we haven’t even kissed. I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day. Is it something you would like?”
My pulse picks up its pace.
I used to love kissing my high school boyfriend, and making out with him. I miss being in love, and how that made me feel.
I’m not so naïve to think that kissing Kurt could make me instantly fall for him, but I really want to feel his lips against mine. “Yeah. I think we should take this as a rehearsal. I don’t think our first kiss should be at the altar. It would be weird.”
He scoots closer, leaning forward until our lips touch. His head slants so that he can deepen the kiss, pushing his tongue inside my mouth.
I haven’t kissed anyone since my senior year of high school, since Matthew and I broke up after graduation because he was headed east for college.
The thought hits me that this isn’t the best kiss I’ve ever received; it’s too slow and there’s too much tongue. But maybe I’m being unfair. Maybe Kurt is as nervous as I am.
I’m sure once we’re married, we’ll get a lot of time to practice and get in better tune with each other.
While I’ve definitely had better kisses, my body has been so starved for attention that it reacts to Kurt’s closeness.
“I knew you’d like kissing me.” His eyes descend to my chest, where my nipples are poking against the thin fabric of my tank top, desperate to be touched.
“Oh.” I half-gasp, half-wince when he palms one of my tits, squeezing hard and pinching the aching point.
The pleasure is equally mixed with pain, but I feel myself growing increasingly hotter. Wetness pools between my legs, and when Kurt uses his big body to push me down on my bed, I go willingly.
“I like the way you feel, Rebecca.” He grunts, lifting my tank top just enough to keep kneading the bare flesh of my breasts.
Kurt bites his way down my neck, a little too rough, his body crushing me into the mattress.
His attention is confusing. I’m not sure how much I’m enjoying being with him, and how much of my physical reaction is down to sheer need.
“Fuck,” he grinds his hips, his hard length pressing against the apex of my thighs. “You smell so good, and you feel even better.”
My clit pulses with need, but I wish he’d slow down. I wish he was a little more gentle.
“I want you, Rebecca.” Kurt grunts. “I haven’t had sex since I’ve agreed to move into this house. Between my schedule and the rules of this house, it’s been impossible to find an opportunity. Will you let me fuck you?”
He lowers his head, biting on my shoulder so hard that I whimper. Kurt must take my reaction as a sign that I like this, because he does it again.
“Please, please, please, Rebecca. I’m dying for you.”
When he looks at me, his eyes are pleading.
“I don’t know, Kurt.” I say, taking a breath now that he partially lifted his weight off me to look me in the eye.
“I haven’t really done this before.” I admit.
Matthew and I fooled around a few times, but we never got past hand stuff and third base—on one occasion on which I blew him, but he didn’t return the favor. Once the writing was on the wall that we would be on opposite sides of the country for college, I didn’t feel like going all the way and he respected my wishes.
“You’re a virgin?” Kurt sounds surprised.
“Why is it so hard to believe? I haven’t had a boyfriend since high school.”
