“Just be yourself.”
“I’m not… sexy.”
He’d bought my virginity. Did he expect me to give him a show too? I wasn’t the kind of girl who could dance and flirt. I didn’t know how to do either.
“On the contrary,” he said, sliding his glass on the cabinet so he could grab the bottle.
He walked over to me and poured another measure in the bottom of my tumbler. I was grateful for that. I already felt looser with the alcohol floating through my veins.
His eyes locked to mine as he recapped the bottle. “I find you to be sexier because you’re not trying. So… be yourself, especially with me.”
Be myself… right.
I took a big gulp of the scotch, once again relishing the burn as it slid down my throat, then I set my glass on the table. The song changed and this one I knew—not well enough to sing along, but well enough to sway to it.
I got to my feet, feeling more at ease, and started to move in time to the music. I let myself go, found my rhythm and twisted my body with it.
I felt Donovan behind me and his arm came around my waist, pulling me against him. I could feel his cock pressed against my ass as he held me firm. His nose went to the crook of my neck, making me tilt my head to give him better access to that sensitive area. His hand gravitated south, almost touching over my pussy, which throbbed with need.
His fingers cupped me between my legs through my dress, his palm grinding against me. I whimpered as he swayed behind me, moving us to his rhythm. His movements were fluid and easy, which seemed like a good sign. Kyra would say so anyway.
I found myself grinning at that thought, but everything scattered from my thoughts as he kissed my neck.
“I want you,” he told me in a deep, husky tone of voice.
I shivered, my nipples puckering into tight points. “I want you, too.”
He took his hand from between my legs and scooped me into his arms. I let out a small squeak of surprise as he settled me against his chest, my arms hooking around his neck. Donovan carried me into the bedroom. I barely had a chance to take in the furnishings before he laid me down on the mattress.
He was so gentle, so caring. I didn’t anticipate that. I wasn’t sure how I expected this night to go, but it wasn’t in my boss’s bedroom. I never thought I’d get to have Donovan. My fantasies were becoming reality and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to wake up from this dream.
As soon as I was laid on the bed, Donovan stepped back and rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip as he examined me. “Fuck,” he muttered, appreciation in his voice.
It made me flush. He saw me in a way I didn’t see myself.
When he didn’t move and just kept staring at me, I felt a little uncertain. “What is it?”
“You’re gorgeous.”
I didn’t think I was unattractive, but my parents were not fast and free with compliments about my appearance. I always felt different from other women my age because no one had ever touched me. My parents made it impossible for me to meet someone growing up, but since I left home and struck out on my own I still hadn’t taken that step.
I didn’t know why until this moment.
I was waiting for him.
For Donovan.
I needed him to be my first; I just didn’t realize it.
He would make it good for me, I knew that, but how would I make it for him? I didn’t know how to have sex. I didn’t know how to pleasure him. I didn’t know how to do anything. What if I was lousy at this? What if he hated every moment of our time together?
Performance anxiety washed through me, making me pull my lip between my teeth.
His eyes focused in on it immediately. “You’re biting your lip. Are you scared?”
I wasn’t scared of what he was going to do to me. I knew he would treat me well. I’d known Donovan for a year. I knew he was a decent man.
I was more nervous he would be disappointed in me.