She didn’t protest or squirm, just arched her neck so her lips could meet mine.
And then I was walking to my bedroom, dropping her onto the mattress, and I knew this was it. I wasn’t letting this moment slip by.
She scooted up, resting her head on my pillow as my fingers went to the zipper of the hoodie she was wearing. “Do you forgive me?” she asked, breath hitching when I yanked the garment down over her arms.
I’d momentarily lost the ability to speak, mainly because she wasn’t wearing anything beneath that hoodie, aside from a see-through lace bra.
Peaches.
Her nipples were the orangey-pink of a peach and beaded, pressing against the lace, making my mouth water, my cock grow even harder.
“Brent?” she called, hands coming to my head. “Do you forgive me?” she asked again. “I need you to forgive me so—”
“Shh,” I said, coming back into my brain, seeing the vulnerability on her face. “Yes, darlin’,” I told her, knowing she needed to hear it, but also knowing she needed my apology, too. “Except there’s nothing to forgive. This whole thing was my fault because of my hang-ups. I shouldn’t have run off. I should have stayed and talked—”
Her mouth covered mine in a scalding kiss.
“It’s my fault,” she said when we broke apart for air. “I should have—”
“I know we’re really good at blaming ourselves,” I said, gently placing a finger over her lips. “But how about we both table the should haves,” I said, “and instead, think about what we can have?”
She nibbled at the corner of her mouth, but her eyes went soft. “And what do you think we can have?”
“Everything,” I murmured.
She smiled. “I like the sound of everything.”
I kissed her then, and it was everything, the jagged pieces of my heart knitting together, the worry and disappointment and pain of my past easier to shoulder. Because she knew everything and still had come to me. I knew we had more to talk about, knew I still had far to go to make it up to her, but I also knew we needed a can have in that moment.
And I intended to give it to her.
I tugged off her shoes and socks, while she shoved down the waistband of her sweats, our hands tangling when I took over to slide them over her knees and off her feet.
Then she was in front of me, clad in see-through underwear, and I was suddenly very aware of the fact that I hadn’t done this before.
“Here,” she murmured, and my eyes flicked up to see she was stroking a finger across her lips. “Start here, and all the rest of it will fall into place.”
Frustrated that I was inexperienced, that I was scrambling to stay in control and figure out what I should be doing, I blew out a breath. “Darlin’—”
Iris smiled, somehow understanding what was going through my mind. “I’ve done this with one other person, Brent,” she said. “I’m not an expert by any means, but I do know I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone, that when you kiss me, the rest of the world disappears, and I can just . . . feel.”
That.
That was what I felt, exactly what I felt and because of it, I didn’t need any further coaxing.
I let my mouth drop to hers, allowed my hands to roam, and I stopped thinking. Because I might be a virgin, but I had done other things . . . lots of other things. My lips slid over her jaw, down her throat, along the tops of her breasts. I nudged the straps off her shoulders, baring those gorgeous peachy nipples, feeling my mouth water.
She moaned my name when I sucked one into my mouth, and since I really fucking liked hearing my name fall from her lips, I spent a while at her nipples, rolling one between my forefinger and thumb then suckling deeply at the other, alternating sides, sucking and nipping and loving the way her hands found my hair and gripped tight.
That sting on my scalp grounded me, pulled me back into focus when it felt like I would fall away.
Releasing her nipple with a soft pop, I traced my tongue over her ribs, drifting down, laving the dip of her belly button, tugging down her panties, and positioning myself at her center.
She spread her legs, eyes shadowed, lips parted, breaths coming rapidly.
“Pink and wet and glistening,” I said roughly.
She choked then groaned. “Brent, get inside me, baby. Another time can be slow. I need you now.”
The problem with that was I knew I probably wouldn’t last long. Not only was I more turned on in that moment than I’d ever been in my life, but I’d never done this before, so I knew it wasn’t going to take much to put me over the edge.
Which meant I needed Iris close.
I needed her so turned on and ready to fly that I wouldn’t blow without her.
So, I ignored her reaching for me, ignored the plea, and knelt between her thighs. A heartbeat later, I had my mouth on her pussy, and it was the greatest fucking dessert in the world, sweet with an edge of tart and so damned wet that I could picture how that wet would feel on my cock.
I sucked her clit firmly, just as I’d learned she liked the other night, then circled her entrance and slid a finger home.
She arched up on the bed, head thrashing on the pillows. “Brent. Honey. I—”
I flicked my tongue, pressed the flat of it to her clit, and then alternated the pattern, driving her up until she was bucking against me, pleas tumbling from her lips.
Then I scrambled for my nightstand, for the package of condoms I’d bought before that first date.
I tore into it, yanked one out, then rolled it with trembling fingers down my cock.
“Now,” Iris demanded.
And I didn’t have it in me to tease or coax or ready bring her closer to the edge with me. I couldn’t think, could only feel, and as I pushed inside her tight, wet, heat, I knew that I wasn’t going to last long.
It was . . .
More than I could put into words.
Not just the sensations, because those were fucking incredible. But it was the connection. Never had I felt closer to someone in my life. Never. Not my friends. Not the people I’d dated. Not my first long-term girlfriend.
It wasn’t this.
It was Iris, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from my kisses, her beautiful curvy body sprawled out beneath me. It was this woman looking at me with softness in those glazed eyes, her desire tempered with affection.
With love.
I loved her.
And that made this moment mean so much more.
I moved in and out slowly, wanting to prolong this time with her but knowing I wouldn’t be able to for long, especially when she tilted her hips, arched farther, and reached a hand down between her legs to find her clit. “More, Brent. Please, more.”
More.
Yeah. I could do that.
I picked up the pace, leaning down to kiss her, bracing myself on one hand as I pulled out and slid in, using the other to tease her nipples, to trace over her curves, then to tilt her hips when I found an angle that made her freeze, lips parting on a moan.
And I zeroed in, because the end for me was near, and I very much wanted her with me.
I kept at the angle, thrusting harder and faster, my free hand moving desperately, dragging her up the precipice with me . . . until finally, she broke, groan torn from her lips as her orgasm swept through her.
Thank fuck, because I was right there with her.
One more thrust and I was over the edge, pulsing inside her as my orgasm shot down my spine, and I came hard enough that I could have sworn I blacked out.