Page 20 of Curveball

He looks up. His lips are glistening with my arousal. “Shhh. Grab a pillow and yell into that when I make you come harder than you’ve ever come in your life.”

As soon as his tongue touches me again, I know I’m seconds away from learning the truth of his statement. I’ve made myself come countless times in the past two years, mostly to thoughts of him doing this very thing to me, but none have felt like this. The buildup is otherworldly.

His fingers curl inside me. I quickly grab a pillow and cover my face with it as my whole body goes numb and then detonates. I yell into it as my back arches, writhing uncontrollably. He does his best to keep me pinned to the bed, but every inch of me shakes and convulses.

After several long minutes, the best minutes of my life, the pleasure begins to fade away. I wish I could feel like that forever.

I’m so…so…satisfied. My body is limp. Every single part of me. I could die happy right now.

Quincy licks up my body until his mouth reaches mine for a deep, hard kiss. I can taste myself on him. Is that what most people do? I have no idea. There’s not a lot of this in porn, but I don’t care. I want this kiss to last forever. I run my tongueover his. There’s something so erotic about tasting me in his mouth. I might be addicted to this.

He breaks the kiss, sits up on his knees, reaches into the drawer in the table next to his bed, and grabs a condom. Oh shit. In my euphoric state, I completely forgot about that. I’m glad he has one.

I watch as he tears the wrapper open and rolls the condom on his length. It doesn’t even go all the way down on his long dick. How is that sucker going to fit inside me? I’m doing the physics in my head, and the math is not adding up.

He must notice the fear in my eyes. He rubs my face with his hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll go slow. It’s going to burn at first, but you’re wet and ready. I’ll get it in and then wait until the pain is gone and the pleasure sets in. I promise. Do you trust me?”

I swallow as I nod. “I trust you. I want it. It has to be you. Do it.”

He smiles as he lays back down on top of me. I love the way he feels and smells. He’s so dominating like this.

I can feel his tip teasing my entrance. Even though I just came, I’m suddenly so turned on again. It’s like my body is calling to his, begging him to enter me. Reaching for him.

Just as he pushes in the first bit, his lips take mine again. I love the way he kisses. It’s wet but not too wet. There’s suction but passion too. And his taste? It’s everything.

I wrap my arms and legs around him. At first, I return his kiss, but then I break it so I can lock my eyes with his for this momentous occasion in my life.

His blue eyes pierce through me, straight to my soul. I’ve dreamed countless times of looking into them while I gave him my virtue. It’s hard to believe this is my reality. I’m not dreaming. For a brief moment in time, Quincy Abbott is mine and I’m his.

His gaze lingers as he surges forward. I wince, feeling the burn. Ooh, that hurts.

“Are you okay?”

Trying to be strong, I grit out, “Keep going.”

He reaches his hand down and rubs my clit with his fingers. I involuntarily convulse, still sensitive from my orgasm moments ago. It distracts me enough for him to push in a little bit more.

He squeezes his eyes shut and I grab his face, worried that I’ve done something to hurt him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. You’re so tight. I’m trying to maintain control. I don’t want this to be over before it even starts.”

The idea of him losing control excites me. I’m so happy that I waited for him. I don’t want to do this with anyone else.

After a few minutes of gradually pushing inside me and a pain-pleasure push and pull, he’s in. I did it. I gave Quincy Abbott all my firsts. Now I want to enjoy myself for what I know will be the only time we’re together like this. This beautiful, perfect man is inside my body. It’s a moment I’ll never forget.

He looks down at me with lust in his eyes. He breathes, “Ripley,” as if he’s trying to maintain control. Trying to contain his emotions. I must misread it because it almost appears as if he’s going to cry.

I can’t do anything but breathe back, “Quincy,” as tears fill my own eyes.

He sinks his nose into my neck and whispers, “Thank you for giving this to me. Thank you for waiting for me.”

He worships my body in a way I won’t come to appreciate until the next few years as different boyfriends come in and out of my life. I don’t know if he felt it too, but the connection we shared was an out-of-body experience that would be near impossible to ever replicate.

TEXAS

THE HOUSTON YEARS

CHAPTER FOUR

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