Instead of focusing on finding pleasure, I focus on the feeling between us. The electricity that keeps our bodies buzzing. The sheets beneath me rub against my spine, and his breathing fans across my face. I revel the feeling of him. His voice floats across my skin, coaxing me to relax.
Let me in baby…
Let me inside of you. Let me inside your heart. He wants all of me, and I want to give it to him. His lips find my skin, peppering soft kisses on my face and neck. "You alright, V?" he strains. I can only imagine how difficult this is for him, but the thought of him moving makes me nervous.
His lips dip into the spot that connects my neck and shoulder, sucking lightly as he rubs soothing circles into my hip.
I nod slowly. “Slow…” I whisper, wrapping my arms around his neck. I feel him pull out of me, before sliding back inside. It’s smoother this time, but the biting pain is still there. I clutch onto his shoulders tightly, digging my nails into his back.
He groans into my neck as he pushes inside of me again.
“Breathe, Vallie, breathe.” I follow his direction, letting my lungs fill with air before releasing it.
His skin burns under my touch, his smell wraps me in comfort. I focus on those things, the connection between us as he pushes in and out of my wet channel. The sounds of our lower halves meeting in unison fill the room. “
The gasps that leave my mouth as he starts to find a rhythm fill the room. His name is a prayer that begs to be answered. I know I’m not going to finish, but the burn has slowly faded, so now it is only a dull pain.
Bishop moans above me, gripping my left hip a little tighter as he works my body faster.
"Fuck, this pretty cunt feels so good. So wet for me. She keeps sucking me in, milking me. She won't let me go," he grunts loudly.
I moan as I push my hips to meet his, needing to feel him explode inside of me. Wanting to bring him the same bliss he gave me on the steps. The euphoria that comes from pleasing your partner is indescribable.
I can feel everything. He's everywhere. In my body, my soul. I claw at his back wanting to leave my mark. A statement that I was here and I made him feel this way.
His thrusts push inside me deeper and deeper. I bite my bottom lip, trying to keep from screaming. These emotions that are rocking through me are wave after wave of undeniable pleasure. My body has never felt more alive, I can feel everything.
He jerks my mouth open, by pulling my chin down. "I want you to scream, baby. Scream. Let everyone know my cock is stretching this tight fucking hole…" His voice is commanding and it makes me groan.
A loud gasp escapes me as his calloused fingers find my clit, rubbing circles in the same rhythm of him rocking in and out of me. My stomach is burning, red hot, and a feeling that can only be described as magical starts in my toes and works its way to my center.
I didn’t think I was going to come, but the more he rubs my clit, the closer I feel to falling off the edge.
"Fuck, fuck. Goddamn this tight cunt. Begging me to fuck it. Gonna make me come…" His voice is animalistic. He pounds into me over and over. He comes with a hard shove forward buried completely inside of me.
He presses roughly on my clit and it sends me over the edge. I spasm around him. My pussy spills juices all over his dick and my thighs. It’s pooling beneath me as I scream his name in pure bliss.
My breathing is heavy, and he matches me. Slowly he pulls out of me, tossing the condom in the trash. I watch as he stands up, his ass flexing as he walks to the bathroom.
I couldn't move even if I wanted to. My body’s numb, blissfully tired. A buzzing cascades my skin, as I roll to my side watching him exit the bathroom with a washcloth.
I lazily raise an eyebrow in question, but he doesn’t answer me. Bishop moves swiftly between my legs, spreading them slowly. He leaves kisses on my knees and my inner thighs before he wipes me off.
I blush at the thought of me bleeding. What a virgin thing to do Valor, nice.
“Hey, look at me.” His voice comes to me quickly. I meet his gaze while he cleans between my legs, pure desire swirls in his gaze.
“Yeah?” I mumble.
“You were perfect. We were perfect,” he promises. I can’t tell if it’s lack of sleep, or the moment but I could’ve sworn love filled his irises.
My eyelids grow heavy, and the night starts to catch up with me.
The last thing I remember before darkness overtakes me is Bishop's lips on my forehead and his soothing voice.
Just like that, eighteen has arrived and my virginity hit the exit.
I feel the sun on my face. It warms my skin with a bright good morning. I move my hand to shield my eyes as they begin to flutter open. A sharp ache settles between my legs, it’s more uncomfortable than anything.
My eyes adjust to the light, and I roll to my side. My mind starts to replay last night's events as my gaze falls upon Bishop.
Michelangelo once said every block of stone has a statue inside of it. It's the job of the sculptor to discover it. He saw an angel in the marble and he carved until he set David free.
If that's true then the sun was Michelangelo and Bishop was a piece of unscathed marble. The sun released all the beauty and softness of B. It carved away the indifference, the damage, and made him look godly.
My stomach flips as I lay on my stomach next to him. My head rests on the soft pillow as my hand toys with the golden pieces of his curly hair while he sleeps peacefully.
The black sheet is pulled up to right above his waist, and he's lying on his stomach. His hands are tucked under his pillow and his soft breathing flexes his muscles. My fingers reach out tracing the lines of his smooth skin.
I could lie here all day if my bladder wasn’t screaming at me to pee. With a sigh, I slink out of the cozy bed and pad across the hardwood floor to the bathroom. I realize on my way that B ripped my underwear last night, so I grab a pair of his boxers.
After I clean myself up a little, I slip into the boxers and tug his shirt over my head. I stretch my sore limbs out as I make my way to the kitchen.
I'm ninety percent sure he never uses this kitchen. Anytime he wants food he comes to my house. Pops and I made breakfast on Sundays. It’s his day off, and I always looked forward to making French toast. Ergo Bishop knows nothing about cooking.
Bishop would roll in hungover in the same clothes he wore the night before. Pops and I would always save him a plate. After he'd eat we would lie on the couch and watch movies all day.
Bishop was my happy place. That wouldn't ever change. When I was on the ice I felt content. It felt comfortable like it was where I was always meant to be. But when I was with Bishop? That's when I felt at home, the place I could come to rest.
Happy memories flood my thoughts as I navigate the kitchen gathering the necessary ingredients for breakfast. I spot my phone on the counter as I am doing my searching I check my messages.
I notice a message to Riggs that I know I did not send last night. It says I made it home safe, so I assume that was Bishop. I shoot Riggs a text making sure she’s okay and then click my dad's name.
I type out a quick message letting him know I'll be home later today and finish it with an I love you.
After I make sure no one is going to send a search party for me, and my dad knows I'm not dead in a ditch somewhere, I play some music and begin cooking.
Eighties rock plays through the speaker and the sounds of crackling bacon fills the space. I’m in the middle of licking pancake batter off my thumb when I hear a throat clear.