Page 19 of The Muse
I groan and push my encased cock against her, the hand holding her up tensing around another ripe thing in my grip. She moans at the ferocity of my hands, part of her struggling for some reason. “Scott?” My eyes come up to her, tongue still laving around her pert, tight nipples. “Slow down.”
Fuck that.
I lift her again and start walking for the bedroom. Not a damn chance am I slowing down with anything. I’ve done nothing but think about her covered form and what's beneath it for weeks. I’ve painted it. Run my fingers over the idea of it. Scratched it into paper and into my mind. And coveted it for too long already. Christ, I’ve even jacked off over the thought of it. If she thinks this is going slowly, she’s very fucking wrong.
She bounces on the bed as I drop her and start pulling my own clothes from my body. Her eyes widen, then she scoots backwards towards the headboard. The shirt and jacket get tossed, as does everything else but my trousers, and I’m crawling onto the bed before she’s got a steady breath.
“Get that skirt off,” I growl, getting closer to her.
She shrinks backwards a little, fingers trying to get her shirt closed up. Playing coy? I smile and get closer again, reaching for an ankle to drag her to me if I must. She already knows I’m interested in rough. If that’s how she wants this—fine by me.
"Don't toy with me, little girl."
“Wait,” she says, pulling it away from me.
No.
I grab at it and haul her body, bringing her easily within a foot of the ache between my legs. We’ll do slow afterwards. Maybe. Probably not given this mood she's wound me up into. “No. Stop. Scott. I …”
The sudden sound of fear in her tone makes me almost let go, soften at least, as I watch her mouth opening and closing.
“I’m … this is too fast.” It’s nowhere near fast enough for my liking. I want to get inside her. Now. No talking. No discussions about what we like. No bloody foreplay either. Just inside and no thought until we’ve finished. “Talk to me.”
Talk?
I sit back on my haunches and look her over, for the first time considering her reaction to me, other than just the groan that came out of her earlier and my own desperation. She’s not just coy, she’s nervous. In fact, the more I look into that pretty as hell face of hers, watching her mouth searching for words, the more I begin to see something I hadn’t even deliberated.
“Please tell me you've done this before.”
She shakes her head quietly, her thumb coming to her mouth. Everything in my body freezes for a few seconds, but Christ if that information doesn’t wind my cock up harder than it already is.
I take a minute studying her lines, thinking about things that should probably stop me right here and right now.
A virgin.
In my bed.
The thought’s almost laughable, but nothing else about this situation is. Everything, including my reaction to her innocence, is steeled in heat and fervour and pure fucking male desire.
Groaning a little, and trying to calm myself, I lie down until we're face to face and she doesn’t seem quite so spooked by me. Silence for a while. Just her and me and whatever she's thinking about. She stares at me, fingers still gripping her top as if she's afraid I'll get mad at her. “It’s alright if you don’t want to, Seffi. I just assumed. Wrongly obviously. The coffee machine’s still there if that's all you want.”
She doesn’t look at the door, nor does she take her eyes off mine. Instead, she worries that thumb in her mouth a little more. I don't even know what to say. A virgin? How the hell someone like her has managed to keep her virtue intact is utterly bewildering to me.
“I do want to,” she eventually says quietly.
“You're sure? It's a pretty big deal.”
She nods, thumb coming away from her mouth. “Just slower. Is that okay? I don't know what I'm doing here and …” My fingers reach for her face, pulling her down to me so she can stay in control if that’s what she needs. On top. Above me. I couldn’t give a shit which way she wants it, as long as I get it.
She shifts and rests her body on mine, tender hands finding their way across my exposed chest until she’s getting as hungry for this as I am. The zip on her skirt gets dragged down slowly, my fingers running over the crease of her arse gently until she’s above me in nothing but her underwear and a sultry smile.
Soft kisses plant on my chest, neck, lips, as she grows more confident with me. She shifts and runs her thigh over my cock, gasping as the hard ridge of it hits her right where I want it to go. “You’ll need to get it out for fucking,” I murmur, watching her move around my body again. Her gaze flips between the bulge in my trousers and me, tongue running over her lips. “It’s all on you, little Seffi. If you want it, you get it out.”
It isn’t until she starts moving her hands to my zipper that I reach for the bedside table and grab condoms out of the drawer. Her eyes dart to them and then back to the thing she’s trying to get on with. Nervous fingers, a nervous quiver in her body, too. I wait. Watch. Wonder if I should take over for her rather than put this on someone so innocent. And then I consider doing the right thing and stopping it all. But just the look of her panicking, and just the thought of me being inside her before any other man, is winding this cock up harder and harder by the minute.
I smirk at the thought and push my trousers off, at least making it slightly easier for her. Her eyes widen the second the head of my cock slips out of my briefs, body pulling back a little.
“Get your hands on it,” I mutter, frustrated with the ache building. “And come here, give me your mouth. Relax.” My own hand goes to hers to guide it where I want it, and the first skim of her fingers over the sensitive head almost makes me come on the damn spot.
