Page 47 of Unspoken Words
He shook his head.
“Pity.” I pouted.
His eye twitched as he tried to assess my body language, so I helped him out and playfully opened and closed my legs a few times before adding, “Must be boring then.”
His stare dipped to my royal blue bikini bottoms now visible underneath my denim skirt then shot back up to meet mine. I smiled just enough to let him know I’d noticed the shift in his eyes then I opened and closed my legs again, this time slower, before leaving them open.
“Yeah, real boring,” he choked out, the muscles in his neck straining as he swallowed.
I draped my hand on the inside of my thigh and lazily traced my finger up and down my skin, teasing him, teasing me. His arm fell limp, his fishing reel clicking repeatedly when his finger slipped off the spool. It made me giggle, but it was also incredibly hot.
Reaching behind my back, I pulled the tie to my bikini top and removed it from beneath my white tank. “Maybe I can offer you something better?” I said, dangling it from my fingertip like a Matador’s cape.
Connor stabbed the fishing rod into the sandy bank then strode toward me. He removed his baseball cap and smoothed his hair back.
We stared at each other, our words unspoken but unmistakable. This was it. He knew it and I knew it. And as he stood there, holding his cap to his chest, his eyes searching mine, I realised just how nervous but truly ready I was.
“You sure?” he asked.
“I am.”
He dropped to his knees between my open legs and slowly ran his hands up the outsides of my thighs, pushing my skirt up to rest on my hips.
I sucked in a breath and smiled before letting it out. “Are you sure?”
His eyes lit up. “I am.”
Leaning forward, I kissed him then slid my hand into the bunched pocket of my skirt, pulling out a condom I’d stolen from Chris’s drawer at home. “Good.”
Connor and I made love under the Weeping Willow, the breeze carrying each kiss, sigh, moan, and murmured words of longing along the river just like it had carried his voice the day we met. His touch was gentle although tense and strained, and no matter the love I felt deep within, or how much my body quivered under his, it still hurt like a goddam bitch.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his body heavy on top of mine.
The burning increased with his repeated motion, so I lied. “Yes, I’m fine.”
I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to hurry up or not. It felt strange;Ifelt strange. My body ached from his touch while craving even more. More rocking of his hips, more softness from his lips, and more of the love that poured feverishly from each of his hungry fingertips. It was an exquisite torture I hoped became less torturous and more exquisite the more we did it.
“You’re so beautiful, Ellie,” he said, his voice strained. He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “Are you sure you’re okay? Am I hurting you?”
I couldn’t exactly tell him his dick felt like a curling iron, plugged in and switched on, so I lied again. “No.” I winced. “It’s fine. Please keep going.”
Connor pressed his lips against mine and quickened his pace, and for a second—right before he stiffened and thrust deeper—the pain all but disappeared and a feeling so immense, so beautiful and pure, swept through me like a ferocious gust of wind, relief and satisfaction pinching his brows and piercing my heart.We did it. We had sex. We’re no longer virgins.
Bodies pressed, his chest against mine, I held him tight as his breathing slowed and the weight of his frame grew heavier. His back was sweat-dampened and hot, and I couldn’t move even if I wanted to, which I didn’t. I was perfectly happy laying on the blanket, the water reflecting the sun’s rays into my tired eyes. I felt whole, alive … loved.
Sighing, I closed my eyes and relaxed beneath him.
“Are you okay?” he asked for the bazillionth time.
I whacked his shoulder. “Stop asking me that.”
“Why? I want you to be comfortable and happy.”
“I am happy. Comfortable? Not really. You weigh as much as a baby elephant.”
“Shit! Sorry, baby.” He slipped out of me and rolled to his side, and the burn I’d forgotten for that split second rebooted to an inferno. “You’re hurting, aren’t you?”
This time, I couldn’t lie. “Yeah, just a bit.” I winced again. “But I loved it. I love you.”
