Prologue
Eight years ago
Kyle
My entire body was on fire. I had never felt so alive. My skin was slick with sweat, and my heart was pounding so hard I thought it would fly out of my chest.
I was going to come. And come hard.
“God, you’re amazing,” I rasped, my hips thrusting in time with hers. Her thick red hair was splayed out on the pillow beneath her head. I couldn’t stop tasting her. Kissing her.
I literally wanted to fuck her forever.
I felt as if I had been waiting my whole life for this exact moment. And now that I was in it, I could hardly believe it. I kept thinking I’d wake up at any moment to find myself jerking off in my sleep.
“Fuck me harder,” she growled, her teeth grazing the side of my neck.
My entire body trembled at the feel of her. I wasn’t dreaming. This was one hundred percent real.
“Harder!” she demanded, sounding a mixture of frantic and pissed off.
I wasn’t sure how much harder I could fuck her. We had already cracked her headboard, and the entire bed was in danger of collapsing. But I would give the lady what she wanted. So, I draped her leg across my shoulder, adjusted the angle of my hips, and started pounding away.
Her loud, guttural groan was all the answer I needed.
“Yes, oh my God, yes!” she screamed, arching her back.
Her tits were things of absolute beauty. Pert nipples dark against creamy skin. I sucked one into my mouth. Her fingers clawed my back, and I could feel the walls of her pussy clench around my cock.
We had been screwing like rabbits for hours. I had become intimately familiar with every plane, every crevice, of her gorgeous body. And it was everything I had imagined and better.
I had been dreaming of sex with Whitney Galloway since I was old enough to fantasize about anything. I had been in love with her most of my life. Well, at least since I was a pimply-faced middle schooler.
My best friends Adam, Skylar, and Meg—Whitney’s younger sister—gave me so much shit for it too. I wasn’t the kind of guy who played like I wasn’t into a girl when I was. I wore my heart on my sleeve. It seemed the only person that hadn’t realized I was crazy about the older Galloway sister was the girl in question. She treated me with all the benign indifference of the pretty, popular cheerleader she was.
So how did I end up dick deep inside her?
“Wait, don’t come yet,” she demanded, slipping out beneath me. I took the pause in activity to try and get my breath back. This was harder work than playing a football game. I sat back on my haunches and ran a shaky hand through my shaggy dark brown hair. I could probably do with a cut, but Whitney said once she liked my hair on the longer side, so I wore it just the way she wanted.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, worried that I had done something wrong. Because the truth was, this was my first time. Well, technically, this was the third time we’d had sex since I arrived at Whitney’s apartment late last night, but yeah, she was the first girl I’d ever been with. It wasn’t something I went around broadcasting, but yeah, I was a twenty-year-old virgin.
Sure, I had lots of opportunities and had gone around the first three bases a few times, but I had never gone all the way. Deep down, I knew it was because I was saving myself for her.
For Whitney Rose Galloway.
Call me a romantic, or maybe delusional, but I wanted to share that moment with only her.
Whitney gave me a smile that turned my insides into mush. She went up on her knees and pressed her impressive chest to mine, wrapping her arms around me. She kissed me long and deep. Her tongue practically touched my tonsils. When she pulled away, she turned around, went on all fours, and looked at me over her shoulder. “Come on, then, what are you waiting for?”
Jesus …
I gripped her hips and slid back inside her. Slowly. Achingly slowly. I started pumping my hips, my balls slapping against her clit. “Yes, that’s it,” she urged, pushing her ass back against me, taking me so deep I wondered if she could feel me in her throat.
This new position was fun and all, but I wanted to see Whitney’s face when she came. I wanted to look in her eyes and be in the moment with her. I wanted to touch her face and kiss her lips. I wanted this to mean something.
Some might call me a sap, but I didn’t care. I had loved this woman half my life. I had wanted to be with her so badly I sometimes thought I’d go crazy with the need. So, yeah, I wanted more from this. I wanted the sex, but more than that, I wanted the connection.