“I think it’s cute that they travel with their friends.”
“I think it says a lot about their state of loneliness,” he said.
“I guess I’ve never thought about that.”
He closed the door behind us. The room was dark, and when he walked over to the other door and pushed the button to black out the windows, it was darker still and I found myself blinking rapidly to adjust to it. He pressed another button and a light came on, but even that was extremely dim, just enough for us not to bump into anything, but not enough to actually see clearly. I was grateful for it. He walked over to me, his shoes tapping against the hardwood as he did, and I braced myself for . . . something. Instead, he stood right in front of me and brought a hand up to my face, cupping my jaw as he looked at me.
“You’re nervous.”
“I am.” I swallowed. “I don’t normally do this.”
“That’s okay.” His lips formed a slow smile. “We’ll take it slow.”
“Should . . . should I take my mask off?” I whispered.
“Do you want to?”
“Are you going to take yours off?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Yes.” I let out a shuddering breath. “I think we should.”
He didn’t hesitate. His mask came off immediately, and even though I couldn’t fully see him, I could fully appreciate his gorgeousness. He must have been a model. Or an actor. Or something. My rapid thought process reminded me of something.
“I don’t even know your name.”
“I don’t know yours.”
“That doesn’t bother you?” I felt my eyebrows pull in.
“You’re leaving to another country tomorrow. Does it make a difference? Will it stop you from doing this?”
“No.” I pulled the mask over my head and tossed it aside.
“You’re beautiful.” The tips of his fingers caressed my cheek, my lips.
“You can barely see me.”
“And yet, I know you’re beautiful.” He brought his lips to mine then and kissed me.
My breath hitched. I brought my hands up to his face and kissed him back, parting my lips to make way for his tongue to dance with mine as my entire body came alive. His kiss was electric, his touch an awakening as his hands made their way down my body, unzipping my dress and letting it pool at our feet. He touched my naked breasts and explored my hips, stopping at the elastic of my panties. I undid his bow tie and unbuttoned the white dress shirt he had on, my fingers fumbling on a few. When I reached his belt and undid it, I paused, breathing heavily as he broke the kiss.
“You okay?” The tip of his nose touched mine.
“Better than okay.”
“We can stop any time you’d like.”
“I don’t want to stop.” I continued working on his pants until they met the same fate as my dress, and then we stood there, chest to chest, in the middle of a darkened room, with only our underwear on. “Do you want to stop?”
“Never.”
Our lips met again. This time, with more ardor. My hands quickly pulled down his boxer briefs and began exploring the large, hard instrument in front of me. He was slower, more methodical, as he deepened the kiss and slid his hand into my panties, exploring, quickly finding the root of my incessant throbbing. I cried out against his mouth, and cried out again shortly after when he brought me to climax again. He growled his acceptance and pushed me gently onto the bed. His lips became more frantic as he kissed his way down my body, licking and tugging my nipples into his mouth before moving further south. He yanked my panties down and replaced his hand with his lips. It was a sensation unlike anything I’d felt before. With each lick, I felt like I might die. Like my heart might give out on me at any moment. It was too much, yet not enough. When I stated that, he smiled against my skin and took it as ammunition to keep going until my hips buckled and I shouted out jumbled words that didn’t even make sense into the void of the room.
I heard the rip of a condom as I was coming to, but still breathing heavily, and then he was pushing himself inside of me, ever so slowly. He gasped as he filled me completely and planted his hands on either side of my head.
“So tight.” He wheezed out the words as he moved out slowly. “So fucking tight.”
I bit hard on my lip to not yell. It didn’t feel as good as his tongue, but I didn’t dare say that. I’d read enough articles and heard enough stories from friends to know that your first time wasn’t magical, no matter how gorgeous the guy or how incredible his body was. My nails dug into his sides, and then his back as he found a steady rhythm. He squeezed his eyes shut as if he was the one in physical pain, and his forehead settled on mine.