Page 66 of The Pact

And that’s my undoing. The throbbing in my clit becomes too much until a wave of intense pleasure crashes over me. I shudder over and over, collapsing on Kelley’s firm chest.

He closes his strong arms around me, placing a soft kiss on my hair. His heart is beating as fast as my own.

***

Kelley

––––––––

I’D BE LYING IF I SAID that I wasn’t disappointed when she didn’t agree to let me fuck her. But I understand that it would be her first time and that after we kissed the night we met, we haven’t had any alone time together.

Not that fucking someone I’d just met isn’t something I haven’t done plenty of times, but I know Ausra isn’t like that.

That’s the only explanation for the fact that she’s still a virgin at eighteen.

Of course I should be the last one to slut shame her if she wasn’t, but regardless of her parents being strict, I can’t fucking believe that she didn’t have every single guy at her school trying to get in her pants. Fuck, I wish I’d gone to high school with her, I would’ve been all over her until she caved.

But this is different, we’re playing our game in the most exciting way ever. Whenever the guys and I have shared a girl, the girl was always as experienced as we were, often even more. So it was a fast transaction, we’d hook up and then everyone would be on their way, the minute the condoms were disposed of. The thrill was taking a girl together, possibly all of us at the same time.

With Ausra, we get to be her firsts. So the excitement is amplified by the awareness that she’s experiencing each thing for the first time. She feels ours in a way that’s hard to explain.

This is why when she doesn’t agree to let me be the first inside of her, I don’t even try to insist. I bide my time, knowing exactly what she did with each of my three brothers and deciding to give her a new experience.

And fuck if seeing her come apart in my arms, on top of me, isn’t the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. The best birthday present I could’ve ever asked for, I think as I run a gentle hand down her delicate spine. That’s another thing that’s different than with any other girl. I’m not immediately preoccupied with having her return the favor in any way. I could’ve kept thrusting against her but watching her bask in the afterglow of the orgasm I just gave her is satisfying in itself.

She looks positively gorgeous and debauched with her blonde hair fanned across my chest and the creamy, white skin of her chest against my more tanned one. She’s still wearing that cute pink skirt that immediately reminded me of a tutu, making her look like the rock and roll version of a ballerina.

Neither of us says anything for a few minutes, until Ausra lifts her head, offering me a lazy, satisfied smile.

My first reaction is of pride because I put that smile there. Me.

“Kelley,” she whispers, looking at me with those huge, bright blue eyes. “You’re still hard.”

I smirk. “I know.” Being a smart ass is a defense mechanism. The way she was with my mom and my sister, the genuine understanding she offered, without a shred of judgement for my fucked-up family, makes me feel so close to her that I need to do something. Anything to look cool and to push the weird feelings that are invading my chest to the side. We’re playing a game. That’s it.

She won’t relent. “Don’t you want to take care of it?”

I provoke her. “What do you have in mind? Did you change your mind on letting me fuck you?”

Her reaction isn’t I expected. “Is that what you want?”

This time I chuckle darkly. “That’s a silly question, Ausra. Isn’t that what every guy wants any time he’s with a hot girl?”

She blushes and fuck if I don’t feel a perverse satisfaction in teasing her a little.

“If that’s what you want, then I—”

“You what? Are you really gonna let me fuck you?”

She shrugs, suddenly nervous and her voice trembles. “It’s your birthday. We said that the birthday boy should get what he wants ...”

Oh, fuck me!

With any other girl, any other time, I’d cash in on the offer. I wouldn’t even stop to think if that really were what she wanted. Yeah, I know, whatever. Call me a bastard but consent is consent. If a woman says yes to fucking, it’s not my job to investigate her reasons. I might ask if she’s sure but that’s about it.

With her, I don’t even stop to think about asking the question that’s on the tip of my tongue. “Are you just saying this because it’s my birthday and you feel bad denying me or because you really want to have sex with me?”

She tilts her head, propping herself up on my chest to look into my eyes, her tits rubbing against my chest and making my dick twitch in my underwear. “Well fuck, it is your birthday. And I—”