Page 67 of Rival Summer

He grinned down at me, his eyes dark with desire. "I'm not all the way in yet."

I wrapped my legs around him tight as he slowly pushed himself deeper, my body continuing to stretch. I could feel every inch of him, the thickness of his shaft, the pulsing veins that ran along his length.

"Damn, you're so tight," he groaned before starting to move—slowly at first, as if savoring every inch of me. With each thrust, he picked up the pace, driving deeper and deeper inside me. The sensation was overwhelming.

“Fuck,” I moaned, closing my eyes as my nails dug into his back.

"Eyes on me, pretty girl," he demanded, his voice rough with desire.

I complied, and he began playing with my clit, teasing and rubbing it in circles with his thumb. The combination of his fingers and his cock was almost too much to bear. He was hitting all the right spots, and I felt a heat building inside me that I had never felt before.

"Chandler, I've wanted this for so long," he murmured. The grasp of his hand on mine remained firm and unwavering as he kept it pinned.

"I know," I breathed out. "Me too."

I could feel my orgasm building, and just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, he angled his hips, hitting a spot that sent me over the edge.

He whispered in my ear, "Come for me, Chandler. I want to feel you come on my dick."

He continued to thrust at just the right angle, like he knew exactly how to keep me on the cliff of pleasure.

“I’m... I’m...” I moaned, not able to form the words.

“That’s my girl,” he said, panting.

I screamed in ecstasy as my body convulsed around him. He continued to thrust at just the right pace. He wasn't done yet, though. I could feel him swelling inside me, and the thought of him coming undone sent another wave of pleasure crashing over me.

“Oh god, yes—Boston.” I dug my nails into his back, urging him on as he rocked his hips into me. He kept going, bringing me to another orgasm until I was a panting, sweating mess.

"Oh fuck," he gritted through clenched teeth, his body tense and shuddering with his release. I lay there, spent and satisfied, feeling the aftershocks of pleasure coursing through my body. It was my first time, but it was perfect—because of him, the gorgeous boy I trusted, who always made me feel safe and protected.

Lying there, our breath seemed loud in the quiet of the room. I turned my head to watch Boston's chest rise and fall, his eyes closed as if he was savoring the moment just as much as I was. A lingering sense of disbelief had me whispering, "I didn't expect it to be like that."

Boston's eyelids lifted, revealing those icy blue eyes that always seemed to make me melt. A chuckle escaped him. "What did you expect it to be like?" he asked, his voice low and slightly hoarse.

I bit my lip, feeling suddenly shy. "I don't know... I've heard horror stories from my friends about their first time."

"Horror stories?" His lips curved into a smile, and he propped himself up on one elbow, gazing down at me with an affectionate curiosity. "Maybe they weren't with the right person."

My cheeks flushed with heat as I managed a playful retort, "Or maybe they just didn't have a Boston to set the bar so high."

His smile deepened, and something tender flickered across his features. "Well, tonight was a first for me too."

Curiosity piqued, I tilted my head, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear. "How?"

He leaned in, his breath tickling my skin. "Being with you, Chandler, it's different. It's unlike anything else."

The corners of his lips tilted upward in a smile that reached his eyes, lighting them up in a way that made my heart skip a beat. He had been out of reach my whole life, but there he was, in front of me, giving me a look that said I was the only one who mattered.

"Being with you is so much better than any stupid hook-up I've ever had," he continued, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that sent shivers down my spine. "You're not just some girl, Chandler. You're you. And I care so much about you... that changes everything."

I snuggled closer to him, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the tangled sheets or our bare skin. It was the warmth of being seen, of being cherished for who I was rather than the image I presented to the world.

"Thank you for tonight," I murmured, pressing a soft kiss against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. It was a thank you for the way he took care of me, for the honesty, and for seeing me as someone worth caring about.

Boston tightened his embrace and held me close. As I closed my eyes, for the first time in a while I let myself embrace some of the feelings I was having for him. It was a risk, but with Boston, it felt like a risk worth taking.

TWENTY-TWO

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