“Okay.” I nod and wonder why I’m so nervous. “I promise not to touch.”
“Okay.” Grinning, she reaches down and grabs the bottom of her top. Looking into my eyes and having an internal war with herself where I know she’s freaking out, she slowly peels it up so I see her pale stomach and then a dark purple bra.
Her breasts are as small as I imagined, but I don’t care like I used to. I help her get her shirt over her head and toss it aside, then I come back and hold her thighs while I study what she’s gifted me. Freckles in the valley between her breasts, a scar high on her chest that I suspect now was from a port-a-cath. She’s so thin, I see her ribs, but I know she eats. She’s so narrow that I worry I might break her. But I promised I wouldn’t baby her.
I slide my hands over her hips and marvel at how large my hands are compared to her. I notice how dark I am compared to her, with the ink that stretches right to my fingertips, compared to her pale skin that remains blemish-free except for the port scar.
Her bra is cute. It’s not what I’d call sexy, and it’s not a bra I’ve ever seen a woman wear before. There’s no lace, no push-up, no bling or bows to draw the eye. It’s just… there. It’s purple. And in my mind, it’s become the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Please don’t forget,” her voice cracks. “Just this one time, don’t touch. After this, we’ll discuss it.”
Slowly nodding, my eyes drift between her chest and her eyes. “I won’t forget. I promise.” Satisfied, she leans in and hesitantly presses her lips to mine. I let my hands slide around her hips and over her back. She purrs when I slide my hands over her skin. She’s never been touched before. No man has ever had this from her, and that thought alone makes my heart throb.
I wrap one arm around her hips and cup her ass, and bring the other hand up to the back of her head to hold her to me, then I stand and grin when she gasps and tries to pull away. “It’s okay, Priss. Come back.”
I pull her closer, and bring our lips back together, then I turn and walk out of my living room and step onto plush carpet in my bedroom. I leave the lights out, though the living room illuminates the space enough that we can see the shadows. I slide my tongue over hers, and when she reciprocates, my groans turn to growls.
She was fighting me, but now she holds on tight. She was trying to escape me, but now she wraps her legs around my hips and pushes her fingers into my hair. She’s has no clue what she wants, but she pulls me close anyway, because she feels what I feel. She feels the same draw I feel, even if she’s terrified.
I walk forward until my shins touch the end of the bed, then I lean down and slowly lower her to her back. Any other time, any other mood, and I might toss her down and chase it with a laugh, but not Abigail. Not today.
I don’t let go until she sinks into my covers and looks into my eyes with panic in hers. Her hair splays out on the comforter beneath her, her chest lifts and falls with erratic breaths. I pull back and stand to look down at her.
Her legs are open, half bent. Her hands clutch at the covers like she’s terrified. And her bottom lip, trapped between her teeth.
“You don’t have to be afraid, Abigail.” I pull my shirt up, and when it clears my head, I toss it away. “The old rules apply. No sex, no pressure, no nothing. I promise.” I move forward and place my knee between hers and brace my hands on either side of her head. “I wanna touch you.” I lean in and press my lips to her jaw. “I’ll taste you. But you have my word, nothing more than that.” I kiss her again and close my eyes. “For the rest of my life, I can do without, so long as I get to keep you.”
Her breath hitches, drawing my eyes open to find a tear sliding from the corner and dribbling over her temple.
“Don’t cry, baby.” I lean in and collect the salty liquid with my tongue. “There’s nothing to be sad about.”
“I’m romanticizing you.” Her breath hitches and makes me smile. “I was looking for a prince, but I think I got, like, a Jafar or something. You’re tattooed and scary, you cuss and push me around all the time, but you also lift me up, and I like your moods anyway.”
Chuckling, I lower myself and press a gentle kiss to her ribs. “We can’t all be Aladdin, I guess. But I promise to be good to you. I promise you won’t regret me.” I press a kiss to the center of her chest and give her a second of privacy when her breath stops. “I promise to treat you well… I mean, I’ll still be pushy and mean, but I’ll never hurt you or be cruel.”
I slide my hands over her hips, pop the button on her jeans, then meet her eyes to ask for permission.
When she swallows and nods, I slowly peel them down. “I promise I’ll always be gentle. I’ll always respect you. I’ll take care of you.” I pull the denim down to her feet, and having forgotten her shoes again, pop them off and make her laugh when the left one smacks the wall. “I promise to make you laugh sometimes. I don’t know how to do the romance, but I’ll try. I’ll buy books on it or something.”
I toss her other shoe aside, then tug the jeans off completely.
She watches me with nervous eyes. “I think you’ve got the romance figured out.”
I grin. “Yeah? First time lucky, maybe.”
I follow the line of her torso, her ribs, her bellybutton, and then her narrow hips. She has freckles all over. Not a lot, but sparse sprinkles, and a cute little cluster on her hip that I lean down and kiss.
Her body remembers mine. Her hunger knows what I can do for her, so she lifts her hips and prompts me to take her panties and use my lips elsewhere.
Who am I to say no?
I nibble along her hipbone and nip just once so she shoots off my bed and flops down again with a squeak. She’s so perfect, so precious. And so fucking unspoiled, it makes me nervous.
I slide my fingertips into the waistband of her matching purple panties and slowly bring them down her legs. Her skin is so white, so translucent, it’s endearing.
Sheisfragile, but she wants to be treated like she’s durable.
“I’ll be careful, okay?” I pull her panties off and toss them wherever her jeans went, then I look to the thatch of red hair and the shiny moisture that coats the inside of her thighs. “You’re all wet, Priss.” I meet her eyes. “All for me?”