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London
“Y-yes,” I whisper, lowering my gaze from the intensity in his piercing gray eyes, one that makes me wonder if he can hear the loud thudding sound of my heart. He hadn't asked a question, but I feel compelled to give a response.
He doesn't say anything for what feels like an eternity, though it must only be a few seconds. I peer up at him, trying to read his expression. His face remains inscrutable, and my heart instantly falls to the pit of my stomach.
“I'm sorry, I should have…”
He stands up abruptly and scoops me into his arms. I gasp softly, blinking at him in surprise.
“What are you doing?”
"I'm not about to let your first time be on a living room couch," he replies, smiling softly in a way that makes my chest constrict. There's a kindness in his eyes now, an openness that allows me a peek into his soul.
He kisses me again as he makes his way up the stairs and down the long corridor that leads to his room. I feel so safe, so protected in the cocoon of his strong arms.
I've never felt that way before. Quite the opposite.
He doesn't stop kissing me when he pushes the door open and closes it with his broad shoulder, nor when he places me gingerly on the ground. He presses me against the door, his right hand gently cupping my face as he deepens the kiss. I love the way he kisses me, like he can't get enough of me. The same way I can't seem to get enough of him.
“How's your leg?”
I like that he’s been checking in with me about my ankle. It shows that he worries about me and cares for me beyond this physical attraction – contrary to what he said earlier. And that, somehow, erases whatever pain I might have felt… should feel.
“It's fine. I feel no pain now.”
Despite my response, he picks me up again and carries me to the bed, gingerly placing me in the middle. Then he straightens and swiftly pulls his shirt over his head. My mind instantly goes back to the memory of him walking out of the bathroom, his naked body glistening with droplets of water. I watch him take off the rest of his clothes, my heart thrumming wildly. My eyes scan the length of his body: his muscular chest, his defined abs, the trail of dark hair leading down from his bellybutton... and between his legs, a thick shaft that’s already red and hard.
Then he rejoins me on the bed, his expression soft as he leans over to kiss me. I wrap my arms around his neck, burying my hands in his hair as I melt into the warmth of his body. His mouth on mine is utterly delicious. I want his mouth in other places: My breasts. My most intimate place… like he did earlier in the living room. But I don't know how to put these all-consuming cravings that ravage my body into words.
He moves to my neck, kissing his way down to my collarbone. Then he raises his head, looking deeply into my eyes.
“I want to be inside of you so badly, London,” he says, his voice thick with desire. “I want you now.”
“I want you too,” I reply, my voice steady despite the tremors coursing through my veins.
My reward is a deep, scrumptious kiss that has me curling my toes. He nips at my bottom lip, sending ripples of shock through every nerve ending in my body.
When he pulls back, he smiles at me, a full, bright smile that lends his face a boyish charm. "I can't believe I'm addicted to kissing you already."
He kisses me again, with even more intensity and passion.
"I’m addicted..." I clear my throat awkwardly. "To kissing you too," I mutter, feeling lame.
He searches my face for a while, his eyes filled with emotions that I can't define. “You trust me?” he asks finally. His tone is doubtful, as if thinks he isn't worthy of my – or anyone's – trust.
I reach out to caress his face in both of my hands. "I trust you," I whisper,.
Something crosses his eyes, a vulnerability that I've never seen before. He takes both of my hands in one of his and pins them above my head.
“This is going to hurt a little, honey,” he says, his tone gentle.
Then he slides into me in one long, precise stroke. A searing pain tears through my pelvic area, eliciting a muffled groan from my throat.
But that’s it.
Curt remains still, searching my face with a worried expression. “You okay? Are you hurt? Are you in a lot of pain?”
I chuckle lightly, amused by the genuine anxiety in his usually enigmatic eyes. “I'm fine, Curt.”
