Chapter Nineteen
CJ
Just because I’ve carried my V card for a quarter of a century doesn’t mean I’ve kept a pure mind, too.
Quite the contrary.
My brain has run wild. My imagination has frolicked in Naughtyville thousands of times, and though the details—the catalyst and the location—varied, one aspect was nearly always the same.
Graham.
Him over me, him inside me, him being my first.
That’s what I’ve wanted most of all.
A rush of anticipation fills my body as he climbs over me, but then anxiety rises up, pulling at me, tightening in my belly. A thousand thoughts race through my mind, and my heart jams in my throat, but as I look up at his handsome face, I know it isn’t having sex for the first time that’s making me nervous.
What scares me is that I’m already failing at the lesson I tried to teach myself this afternoon.
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sp; My heart isn’t in another room.
I’m here, all in, heart, body, and mind.
It’s wildly exciting and completely terrifying. But how can I even consider turning back when this is everything I’ve dreamt of and so much more?
I reach my arms around his neck, pull him even closer, and press my lips to his, kissing away my fears. “I’m so ready,” I whisper.
“I like the so.” He positions himself, rubs the head of his erection against me, and I gasp. A pulse beats between my legs, where I’m wet, ridiculously wet.
Relax. I spread my legs wider, letting my knees fall open, inviting him in.
He pushes the tip inside. “Okay?” he pants.
A warm, tingly feeling spreads through me. “More than okay.”
I draw a sharp breath as he sinks deeper inside. Deeper, deeper, maybe halfway in, and holy hell.
He’s stretching me, and for a moment I feel as if I’m being ripped apart. I grit my teeth, my muscles tensing against the sting.
“Butterfly.” His voice is laced with worry
I try to will away the pain, but damn, it hurts. “I’m fine,” I mutter.
“You’re not fine. Talk to me.”
I remember I promised I would be honest. I loop my arms tighter around his neck, needing to hold him close as I confess, “It hurts, Graham. But I don’t want to stop. So please don’t.”
He sighs heavily, but doesn’t move. I look up at him, seeing concern, care, and so much more in his eyes. I see him here with me, in every way, and suddenly I can breathe. And that changes the game.
As I pull in another breath, I start to relax.
“Perfect,” he whispers. “Just breathe, baby. Take all the time you need.”
Another breath, and the stinging sensation fades a little more.
Slowly, the hurt subsides, giving way to another rush of warmth and desire, the need to get even closer to this man who is so sweetly patient with me.