Page 15 of Keeping The Virgin

He only clenches his jaw then slips his hands into the sides of my dress where the fabric gapes away from my body. The feel of his palms on my ribs electrifies me, and I grab his arms.

“Easy,” he says. “Just relax.”

“I guess this is why you don’t usually have anything to do with virgins,” I babble. “Because we have no idea what to do.”

“I’m not going to fuck you yet. I’m only going to make you cream for me, just like yesterday.”

It’s as if he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about our first encounter either, and I let go of some of my tension. For some reason he wants me. I can see just how much in his fiery gaze, even though he isn’t saying it out loud.

“Now that’s more like it.” He slips his hands up my ribs until he comes to the bottom edge of my bra. “Yesterday, I liked watching your face, seeing how good I can make you feel. Show me that again, baby.”

As he easily undoes the front of my bra, I close my eyes, fully giving in. When my breasts pop free of the cups, I bite my bottom lip, not knowing if my boobs will measure up to the tits on his more experienced women. I suspect I have nice ones—full but not big, firm with pink tips—but when I open my eyes and see the way Cage is looking at them, I feel as if they’re the only breasts that’ll ever matter.

His eyes are filled with desire as he cups them, gently squeezes them, and I arch back my neck, moaning.

“Do you make those sounds for other men when they touch you like this?” There’s an edge to his question.

“No.”

He keeps fondling me, exploring and making me move with his every caress.

“How much of a virgin are you?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

He rubs my nipples with his thumbs, bringing them to hard peaks. I bite my lip so hard that it stings.

“I mean,” he says, “how far have you put out for other men?”

Boys, I want to say. Because no one compares to Cage and the way he touches me. The one guy who ever got anywhere near this point with me doesn’t deserve to be called a man. Not after the nightmare he’s putting me through.

“I’ve never given other guys very much,” I finally say. “No one has ever…”

I can’t go on, because Cage is lightly playing with the very tips of my nipples now, and I’m overtaken by waves of heat.

He pulls me toward him, positioning me so that he can suck one nipple into his mouth. I haul in a sharp breath, bracing my hands on the top of the chair and digging my nails into the leather. My pussy nestles against his cock, and I feel his tip nudging me every time he sucks on my breast, every time he lightly pushes my hips forward with his hand so that I’m barely humping him.

I’m so wet that my pussy is sliding against my panties and his trousers, and every time his head hits my clit, I mewl a little.

“Fuck,” he whispers against my breast. “You feel so damned good, taste so damned good.”

Then he flicks my nipple with his tongue, and I press my sex against him harder, gripping his thick hair with one hand. A low growl seems to be vibrating inside of him, as if he’s getting just as turned on as I am. Every time my pussy hits his cock, he seems to lose that much more control.

When he comes up for air and looks up at me, there’s a hellish need in his eyes. Even though I don’t know what I’m doing, I think I know what he’d love for me to do now.

Still unsure, I ease off of his lap. My heart is thundering inside me as I look at his groin, where I can see the length of his cock under his trousers.

“Do you want me to…?”

I can’t believe I’m asking him this…or almost asking him. I’m too much of a novice to know how to ask, but I want so badly to make him happy.

He only smirks in answer, and it’s a dark, greedy expression of lust. A hungry yes.

As the blood pounds in my ears, in my chest, in my clit, I drop to my knees in front of him. This time I don’t fumble—I want to see what’s underneath his zipper too much—and when I pull him out of his trousers, I blow out a taut breath.

He’s thick and long, and my mouth waters just looking at him.

“Now touch me,” he says.

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