Page 33 of Remembering You
Jim paused, then threaded his hands tightly into my long, blond hair, pulling my gaze to his. “Marty,” he said, his voice even raspier than mine. “I’m going to be blunt… and I’m sorry for that. But, I need to know. Are you a virgin?”
I swallowed, trailing my fingertips down the bare skin of his shoulders and running my hands over his chest, all the while maintaining eye contact. I felt his body shiver beneath my touch, but his resolve was impressive, unmoving, like a broad oak tree in a windy storm. He was unflappable.
“Yes,” I whispered and could feel the flush overtake the apples of my cheeks. Curling my fingers, I dug my nails into the flesh at the sides of his abs and pulled his waist closer to me. “But I want you. I want you more than anything. Please, Jim.” I leaned forward, kissing him hard, repeating the same nibble at his bottom lip that he had done to me moments before. “Please,” I moaned again, this time against his mouth.
Then, releasing my hold on his waist, I grabbed his hand, and placed it at my damp panties between my legs. I was so wet and he audibly gasped against my kiss as he palmed my cleft, his fingers hooking into the elastic of my panties and tugging them aside before circling my saturated opening. The pressure felt amazing and I pulsed my hips for more. He was ready for it and countered my movement by gliding his touch up to my slick clit.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he growled, breaking our kiss and nibbling my ear.
“I’m ready. I’m ready for this. Ready for you. For the longest time, I didn’t know why I was waiting. Who was I saving myself for… but now I realize… I was saving myself for you. I just didn’t know it yet.”
He pulled back, looking me deep in the eyes. Insecurity crept in. What I’d said was in fact one hundred percent true, but right now? It felt immature and silly to say. Just as I felt the blush taking over my body, he cupped my jaw with one hand while the other continued to stroke my clit in tiny, soft movements. “Marty Vaughn,” he exhaled, pausing. “What is Marty short for?”
“Martha,” I whispered, but my name was a strangled breath with the way he was touching me. I craved more. So much more. Harder. Deeper. “Martha Veronica Vaughn.”
“Utterly gorgeous,” he said. “Martha Veronica,” he repeated. I’d never thought my name was beautiful. Not until that moment, hearing it come from his lips. His touch disappeared from between my legs and he pressed a gentle kiss to my warm lips before asking, “Are you absolutely sure? Because I can wait. I will wait. For you.”
I shook my head. “I know to an outsider, it doesn’t seem ideal. Us just meeting last week. You breaking up with your girlfriend. Me being a virgin. But, Jim, I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”
He scooped me into his arms. I instinctually wrapped my legs around his waist and as though I weighed nothing more than a feather, he carried me to the bedroom. “Your first time is not going to be on a kitchen counter, Martha Veronica.”
He laid me back on the bed and slanted his lips over mine. Dear God, he felt so good. The heat from his bare chest was like a furnace against me. The dress was now bunched around my waist, revealing every inch of skin from the hips down. He didn’t wait and instead tugged the hem of the dress over my head, as I wriggled out of my panties. I lifted onto my elbows as he knelt above me, an admiring gleam in his eyes.
My nipples were hard, my breasts flushed pink, the same shade I was certain my face was. He didn’t wait, leaning down and latching onto one, while palming my other breast, lightly flicking and pinching my nipples.
The small of my back pushed off the bed and my toes curled against the soft quilt as I instinctually spread my legs wider. I reached down, fumbling with his belt buckle and tugged at the buttons. He helped, sitting up and shoving his pants down, his erection sprang free. Hard. Red. The tip already covered in a dewy drop that for reasons I didn’t understand, I wanted desperately to taste. My mouth parted and I licked my lips.
“Now. Please. I want you so bad.”
With one finger, he pushed inside of me. The discomfort was immediately followed by a swell of lust and I clenched around his finger, my hands gripping at the sheets as I bucked off the bed.
“Not yet,” he said, driving that finger gently in and out in slow, methodical thrusts. “You need more time. You need to be wetter.”
“Wetter than this?” I cried.
“Much wetter.”
He scooted down until his face was between my legs and with one finger still deep inside of me, he pressed his mouth against my swollen sex in a long lingering kiss that made me shudder. With a long lick, he sampled me from the edge of his knuckle all the way up to my clit, then circled his tongue around my pulsing bundle of nerves.
“Yes,” I pleaded. “Just like that. Don’t stop.”
“Never.” His hot breath in contrast to the chilly evening air sent goosebumps racing down my legs and I arched my back, pushing myself harder against his tongue as his movements sped up, lapping at my clit. His finger pulsed faster and faster. He slid another finger inside of me and this time, it didn’t hurt as much.
“Oh God,” I moaned as my muscles tightened. I’d only managed to bring this feeling on a few times before with my fingers. But this? With Jim’s tongue, it was a new kind of explosive, unlike anything I could ever manage on my own. My legs went stiff beneath him and a wave of ecstasy overtook my body in deliciously violent pulses that had me gripping the headboard.
Jim sat up between my legs, fisting himself. I wanted to touch him. Wanted to feel him in my hands. I reached down, gripping him in my fist. He grunted, falling forward on his hands above me, his breath shallow and quick as I stroked his shaft, dragging my fingernail down the thick vein on the underside.
With my thumb, I rolled over the wide dew-covered tip, stroking the moisture into the rest of his hard length. Blinking up at Jim, I studied him through my thickly lashed eyes. “Am I ready now?”
“God, I hope so,” he said. Then grabbing his pants off the floor, he pulled a condom from one of the pockets. I covered his hands with mine.
“I’m on the pill,” I said.
Confusion crossed his face. “I thought you were a—”
“I am. But I got them for free when I interned at my old hospital. I’ve been using them as… as precaution for when the time came.” And thank God for that.
“Good to know,” he growled and tore the condom open. “But we should still use one. I read that they protect against things other than pregnancy.” Jim rolled the latex onto himself. In the heated moment, I didn’t want anything between us… but I knew he was right. There were new medical studies and journals out about that very thing.
