Page 54 of Stone Promises

I’m living my boyhood dream. Mallory Schaffer has my dick in her hands. And just like a boy, I’m not going to last very long unless I get a grip. Her hand slips from my jeans as I resume my spot on top of her. I watch her face as I unzip her pants. One look from her gives me the green light, so I work my way down her body, pulling off her pants and shoes in the process.

As I climb back up her legs, my mouth finds her smooth calves, then her knees, then her thighs, as she squirms beneath me. Her alluring musky scent hits me as I hover over her black lace panties. I push them aside and run a finger down her soft trail of curls to find her soaking wet. My dick dances in my jeans as I slip a finger inside her, then two.

“Chad,” she says, breathlessly, pushing herself into me.

She fucks my fingers with her body and I can hardly stand it. I want to be inside her right now, but I need to go slow. Take my time with her. Make this an experience she will never forget. It’s already the best sexual encounter I’ve had and yet she’s only touched me for maybe thirty seconds.

I remove my fingers from her and she protests with a squeaky sigh that makes me chuckle. But I need to get rid of her panties. I pull them down her legs, kissing the sensitive skin along her inner knees as I go. When I return to the apex of her thighs, I hold her stare as she looks down on me when I press my mouth to her. Damn, that’s hot—her watching me when I do this. My tongue runs slow circles around her clit as my fingers resume their expedition inside of her. Another minute of this has her eyes closing and her head falling back and lashing against the pillow as her thighs tighten around me.

“Oh, God!” she shouts at the ceiling as she pulsates around my fingers. I watch her taut stomach convulse as waves of pleasure shoot through her. It’s got to be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my whole damn life.

As she recovers, I quickly remove my jeans, pulling a condom from my wallet before I deposit them on the floor. I lie next to her on the bed and show her the small square package. I didn’t want to presume that she’d let me make love to her tonight, but I sure as hell was going to be prepared. I raise my eyebrows in question.

She smiles. “Yes, please,” she says softly. Then she takes it from me. “Here, let me.” She tears it open and carefully rolls the condom onto my rock-hard length as I try not to think about how many times she might have done this before with some other guy.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” she says with a shy smile.

Fuck. If she only knew how much better she just made this for me. As I kneel next to her, I take a moment to stare at her naked body and I wonder what the hell a guy like me ever did to deserve a woman like her. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

A blush works across her face and she nods. “Once or twice,” she says, smiling.

“Well get used to it,” I say. “Because it’s true and I’m never going to let you forget it.”

I climb on top of her and position myself at her entrance. I shake my head at the unbelievable reality that I’m about to make love to Mallory Schaffer. As I start to push inside her, I lean down and whisper, “This is everything I’ve ever wanted.” And then I kiss her as our bodies join together for the very first time.

We moan into one another’s mouths as I fill her completely. The feeling of being inside her is like no other. She’s soft. Tight. Safe. And as I make love to a woman for what feels like the first time in my life, I find emotion flooding through me. I lock eyes with Mallory and see her experiencing the same thing. A tear escapes her eye and rolls back into her hair. I lean down and kiss the wet trail.

“God, Mal,” I whisper in her ear, as I continue my long, soft strokes inside her.

Her hands glide over every inch of my back and then find their way down to my ass. She pushes me deeper inside of her, bringing her hips off the bed to meet mine with increasing speed. “Chad,” she says, my name flowing off her lips like a prayer, “please.”

I rise up on an elbow, changing my angle in hopes of finding that sweet spot that’ll send her toppling over the edge. With my free hand, I grab her breast, kneading the soft mound, pinching her stiff nipple.

“Uh . . . Oh, God . . . Yes,” she murmurs.

I can feel her begin to stiffen beneath me. Her thighs tightly embrace me and her fingers dig into my ass cheeks. She shouts my name as she bucks under me, her walls clamping down on me as I witness what is no doubt the eighth wonder of the world. Watching her orgasm has me quickly chasing my own. My sac tightens and waves of painful pleasure shoot through me as I empty myself into her before her aftershocks cease. “Unnnnngh,” I cry, biting down on my lower lip as I pulsate inside her.

I collapse onto her, our slick bodies languid as we replenish our lungs with much-needed air. I can feel her racing heartbeat underneath mine. I stay on top of her until it calms; until our breathing slows and I find myself capable of purposeful movement.

I wince as I pull out of her, moving to her side before I wrap her tightly against me. “Jesus, Mal. I’ve never . . .”

“Me either,” she says, craning her neck to look at me. We stare at each other for long drawn-out seconds. We don’t need words to tell each other what just happened. That in these past minutes, our lives have forever changed. That never again will we accept anything less than what we just had. That we’ve become connected by a bond that cannot be broken.

I touch her face with my hand, her shimmering eyes mirroring mine. “I love you, Mallory Kate.”

She closes her eyes, squeezing tears from them before looking at me again. “I love you, too, Chad Christopher.”

I embrace her, needing to remember every detail of this moment until the day I die. I hold her until our bodies cool down, still slick from sweat and now becoming chilled from the movement of warm air circulating from the room’s heating system. I lift her up and pull down the covers so we can climb in under them. Then I lay my head down on her pillow, inches from her radiant face. “I’ve loved you forever,” I tell her.

“When did you first know?” she asks, tracing the outline of my ribs with her finger.

“Did you ever wonder why I didn’t kiss you when we were in that play?”

She shakes her head. “I assumed because you were nervous. We both were.”

“I had psyched myself up for it. Even Mr. Spencer told me it would seem more real if we kissed for the first time on opening night. That’s why he didn’t have us rehearse it. But right before I was supposed to kiss you, I realized I didn’t want it to happen on that stage. I wanted our first kiss to belong only to us, not a few hundred other people. And that’s when I knew. I was only fifteen years old, but I knew right then that I was in love with you.”

Her eyes glisten once again. “Thank you,” she says. “Thank you for not kissing me back then. Now it belongs only to us. Well, and maybe Cole. And my dad, if he was peeking out of the curtains.”