Page 129 of Unexpected Hero

At some point, he stopped kissing me and shifted his weight slightly, so he’s hovering to one side. But he stays close enough for me to grab his shoulders, and his head lingers close so he can whisper in my ear and kiss my neck.

“Do you want to come with my fingers here,” he brings his fingers from my clit and swirls them around my opening, “or in here?”

I can’t answer with anything other than a keening sound, which doesn’t tell him what he wants to know. But I don’t know what I want. And I’m also not sure how to speak anymore.

What are words?

In my entire life, I’ve never felt this overwhelming level of shyness. It’s not shame —not even close. I’m proudly enjoying the way he’s playing my body. But I’m terrified of saying the wrong thing or doing something stupid that will reveal my inexperience.

“Answer me,” he demands, a firmness threaded into his tone. “Up here,” he moves back to my clit, plucking the tender pearl, “or down here?” When he slinks his fingers back down to my virgin hole, he attempts to put two fingers inside me.

Yes, he attempts.

But fails.

He can’t fit them both inside me.

Mortification floods my system. I don’t use tampons. Never had a vibrator or dildo. Not even my fingers have been in there. All my self-pleasuring has been of the humping variety until recently, when I finally began rubbing my clit with my fingertips. But that’s all.

I’ve avoided getting a female exam. So literally no one has ever been where he’s trying to go. Like it’s the final frontier of space.

He groans, dragging his tongue along the sensitive skin below my ear. “So fucking tight. Relax and let me in, sugar bear.”

Sugar bear. Like he saved my contact in his phone.

Why does that sound so sweet and sexy at the same time?

“I’m trying,” I press out through panting breaths.

He must hear something he doesn’t like in my voice because he stops, rises to his elbow, and removes his hand from my panties.

Panic fills me, my eyes finally fling open. I grab his wrist, holding it down there with both of my hands. “Don’t stop,” I beg as I lock my gaze on him. “Please don’t stop.”

If he stops, I’ll die.

Death by blue bean. What an obituary that would make.

He settles against my body, his lips hovering over mine. “I can’t say no to you. Fuck, woman, you drive me insane.”

And he kisses me. Hard and punishing. Like he’s angry with me.

Or with himself.

His hand snakes back into my panties, and I let go of my death grip on his wrist.

“Thank you,” I rasp after he breaks the kiss and begins toying with my clit. My eyes hold fast to his. I’m afraid he’ll stop if I look away.

“Those fucking manners again.” He grins, then sucks my lower lip between his teeth for a gentle nibble. “I like that you’re a good girl, but I want to make you a bad girl too. That stunt you pulled tonight proved there’s a naughty girl in you. I’m going to pull her to the surface — one orgasm at a time.”

I don’t have time or mental capacity to formulate a response because my toes curl and thighs tighten around his hand as the coil deep inside me begins to spring free, slicing through me with the first wave of my climax.

“That’s it, sugar bear. Come for me.” He sucks my nipple into his mouth, causing my orgasm to explode, blasting pleasure throughout my body.

The pitch and volume of my moans crescendo.

He pops off my breast and orders, “Let me hear you. Scream for me.”

My hands wrap around his wrist again, holding him in place. Throwing my head back, I convulse and thrash against his hand.

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