“I’m a virgin,” Keely blurted.
My eyes widened. Okay, that one I wasn't expecting. Yes, she was young, but there was a maturity about her that made her seem older.
“It's not that unusual in my world,” she said when I didn’t speak. “I’m twenty-three. Most of my friends are waiting. We just have other priorities.”
Other priorities besides having sex. I got that now, but in my early twenties, I would have laughed if anyone suggested that.
Now I regretted those meaningless flings, though. It all seemed a waste while staring into the eyes of this woman—a woman like no one I’d ever met.
”We shouldn't do this here,“ I said. “Your first time should be special.”
I wanted to make it clear that I was all in without scaring her off. I didn't want anyone else to be her first time, but I definitely didn't want to be her last.
She shook her head. ”Here. Now. On this table.”
I’d built this table with my own two hands. It wasn't one I ever planned on selling. It was just a table where I set my coffee cup in the morning and my bottle of beer in the evening. And now I’d forever look at it as the place where Keely had her first time. The spot where my new life began and my old life ended.
”Lean back on your hands,” I commanded.
Something flashed in her eyes, barely noticeable but I caught it. Excitement. She liked when I ordered her around—in the bedroom, anyway. I made a mental note of that for the future because if I had a say in the matter, we'd be doing this every day for the rest of my life.
Leaning back, she braced her palms on the smooth, worn wood of the table, her body a beautiful offering. I drank her in for a moment—the trust in her eyes, the rapid flutter of her pulse at her throat. Then I lowered my mouth to her breast again, capturing one taut nipple, laving it with my tongue until her breath hitched and her back bowed off the table.
My hand slid down the curve of her stomach and found her pussy. She was drenched, her slickness coating my fingers as I circled her clit. A low, desperate sound escaped her lips. I slid one finger inside, and her inner muscles clenched around me,so tight, so incredibly hot. I groaned against her breast, my cock throbbing in time with her pulse.
I couldn't wait any longer. I dropped to my knees between her spread legs, replacing my finger with my mouth. I licked a slow, firm line up her center and she cried out, her thighs trembling against my shoulders. I slid my finger back inside her, curling it just right as I closed my lips over her clit and sucked.
Her gasps became a symphony. Little whimpers, sharp intakes of air, and my name, a broken prayer on her lips. "Oh, fuck. Silas, yes!”
The sounds she made, the way her body moved for me—the combination was the most potent aphrodisiac I'd ever known. It unspooled every thread of my control. I focused on her, on the rhythm of my tongue and the gentle pressure of my finger, feeling her tension coil tighter and tighter.
Finally, a raw, keening cry tore from her throat as her orgasm ripped through her. Her back arched violently, her hands slipping on the table, and I held her hips steady, drinking every last shudder and gasp, my own body screaming with need. Feeling her come apart on my tongue was the single most powerful moment of my life.
I stood on unsteady legs, my knees weak. "Don't move," I breathed, grabbing my wallet from my discarded jeans.
I fumbled for the condom, my hands shaking. When I turned back, she was watching me, her eyes heavy-lidded and dark with satiation and renewed hunger. She pushed herself up on her elbows.
"Let me,” she said.
She took the foil packet from my trembling fingers and tore it open with her teeth. The simple act was so fucking erotic I almost came right there. She sheathed me slowly, her small, sure hands stroking my length as she rolled the latex down, herthumb brushing over the sensitive head. A deep, guttural groan was ripped from my chest. "Fuck, Keely. Your hands…”
She looked up at me through her lashes, a shy, sexy smile playing on her kiss-swollen lips. "I want to feel you."
I moved between her legs again, bracing my hands on the table on either side of her hips. I leaned in and captured her mouth in a searing, possessive kiss, swallowing her little moans. I positioned myself at her entrance, the head of my cock nudging against her incredible wet heat.
"I'll go slow," I promised, my forehead resting against hers. "Tell me if it hurts too much."
I pushed forward, just an inch, and felt resistance. Her breath caught, a sharp, pained little sound, and her eyes fluttered shut. I stilled immediately, my whole body tense with the effort.
"Look at me, sweetheart,” I said.
She opened her eyes, and the trust I saw there humbled me. "It's okay. Don't stop."
I pressed forward again, slowly, so slowly, burying myself inside her inch by incredible, tight inch until I was fully sheathed. She was breathing in short, sharp gasps, her nails digging into my forearms. A single tear escaped the corner of her eye. I kissed it away, my heart hammering against my ribs.
"You feel…" I couldn't even finish the sentence. She was perfection. Heat and silk and a fit so right, it felt like coming home.
I began to move in shallow, careful thrusts, watching her face for any sign of discomfort. As I withdrew and slid back in, I let my thumb find her clit, circling the swollen nub with a gentle, steady pressure.
