Page 107 of Pieces of Ash
He looks confused for a second, and then his lips twitch. “No. I mean…I don’t have any diseases. I don’t sleep around.”
“Oh.” Now my cheeks flush with embarrassment, and I look down at the white sheets, feeling young. “That’s good. Me neither.”
He lies down beside me and slides his fingers under my chin, forcing me to look at him. “I’m using a condom because I don’t want to get you pregnant.”
I’ve been taught that trying to prevent pregnancy when you’re married is a sin, but then again, everything I’m doing today is a sin, and besides, Julian and I aren’t married. The strangest thing of all, however, is that I don’t feel guilty about what we’re doing. I don’t feel dirty, and I don’t feel bad. It feels right, and a rush of peace, of goodness, washes over me like a blessing.
“I’m not ready to be a mom,” I say, thinking about Tig. She was only sixteen when she had me, unmarried, unsupported, alone. I want to do things differently. When I have my first child, I want to be ready.
“I’m not ready to be a dad,” says Julian, though he’s looking at me peculiarly, like maybe he’s looking at his future and liking how it looks. “Someday.”
“Me too,” I say. “Someday.”
“I care about you, Ashley” he says, looking into my eyes. “So much.”
“I know you do. I feel the same.” I lie on my back. “And yes, I’m sure I want to have sex.”
He rips open the package with his teeth, then, presumably, puts it on his penis. I don’t look. Part of me wants to, but suddenly, even after two orgasms that made me feel like jelly, I’m tense and a little shy. Iwantto do this, but part of me is a little scared too.
He’s still kneeling between my legs, but now his head is over mine, and he leans down, kissing my lips. “I’ll go as slow as I can.”
“Okay.”
Bracing one elbow by my ear, he reaches down with his other hand, guiding his erection to the opening of my sex. I feel it there, brushing against me, seeking entrance, but not yet pushing inside.
“It might…,” Julian pants, “hurt a little.”
“I know,” I say, gulping nervously as I look up at him. “It’s okay.”
He starts sliding into me, slowly, gently, and I try to stay relaxed, but the sensation is so new, so different. I feel vulnerable, but not in a bad way. Exposed, but not on display. I am sharing something with him that is only mine to share, and he is taking it as tenderly as he can. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, willing myself to relax.
Something eases where he is pushing inside me, but something else is blocking his way. I look up and see a bead of sweat break out on his brow. He winces, then drops his lips to mine in a passionate kiss while surging forward into my body, burying himself inside me to the hilt, until his pelvic bone is flush against mine.
I whimper, but his tongue is massaging mine, his hands cradling my face as he kisses me hungrily, desperately, and I realize that his kiss is distracting me from the waves of pain that I felt when he thrust through my virgin barrier.
The pain comes and goes. Comes and goes. Goes.
It’s over now. I’m a woman. I’mhiswoman.
“Are you okay?” he asks me, his eyes concerned and soft, dilated to huge black orbs that look heavy, but stay focused on mine.
“I’m okay.”
“If anything hurts, tell me to stop,” he says, moving his hips away from me and then plunging slowly back inside.
And then I feel something else entirely. That buzzing between my legs is back. But it’s so much louder than before. This is different from the way he pleasured me with his fingers and tongue. It’s so intimate, it makes me even more emotional, and tears spring to my eyes. I pull him down to me, lacing my fingers behind his neck and kissing him as he thrusts into my body again and again.
When he cries out my name, shuddering and gasping on top of me, I don’t orgasm with him. Not physically. But my heart, which he doesn’t know I’ve given to him, hammers to the beat of utter and complete devotion. He looks down at me like I breathe fire into the sun, like the stars are my children and every single one is a miracle.
“Elle est si belle qu’elle me brise le coeur,” he whispers reverently, rolling to my side and pulling me into the sanctuary of his arms.
As I am falling asleep, my mind repeats these words over and over, and at some point, I remember what he told me about his father’s favorite song—the song he listened to after Julian’s mother went away.
I remember what the words mean.
She is so beautiful, she breaks my heart.
Day #45 of THE NEW YOU!
