On every surface – the Regency style drawers, the end tables with their carved metal stems – candles flicker and cast their light into the room. I close my eyes and take a deep breath of the vanilla scent, losing myself in it for a moment.
“I love this smell,” I whisper.
Dom sets me down on the bed and softly closes the door behind us, trapping us in this world of whispering candlelight.
“I know,” he says deeply.
“What, how?” I ask, turning to him.
He stands like a silver suit of armor in the light of the candles, every part of him catching the light, his jaw cutting it, his eyes glimmering, his iron peppered hair shining like a diamond. I feel my body getting tingly and tight and close, as though it’s ready to erupt, my womb screaming, my desire relishing.
“You posted about it on your blog,” he says.
“Wait a sec …” I stand and move toward him, achingly conscious of the way his gaze tracks my movements. “You read my blog?”
“I did,” he says. “Dallas’s Dawdles. I don’t know if the title fits you. To dawdle is to move slowly, and you, Firecracker, you’re anything but slow.”
“With you, maybe,” I whimper when he loops his arm around my waist, softly sliding his hand down over my ass cheeks, crumpling my dress against me. “But usually I’m a pretty indecisive person. It’s only with you – with us – that I’ve felt anything like urgency.”
“Is that what you feel?” he snarls, his hand tingling against my bare thigh. He creates a path of sultry sensation as he grinds his palm up toward my ass cheeks, and then starts to rub and massage, claiming my flesh with powerful hand movements. “Urgent? Like you can’t wait to give yourself to me?”
I nod, eyelids flickering as a moan escapes my lips, a moan that seems to cause the candlelit shadows on the wall to shift knowingly.
“Say it,” he commands.
“I can’t wait to give myself to you,” I gasp.
He pushes aside my underwear and inches closer to my center, but underneath, from behind me, leaning forward so that he can wedge his palm in between my thighs and tickle my hole from behind.
“Bend forward,” he snarls. “Push your ass out. Let me feel how wet your juicy perfect pussy is. Tell me who your virginity belongs to, Dallas.”
“You,” I moan, doing as he says, arching my back and feeling my self-consciousness sluice away under the magic of the moment. “My pussy belongs to you.”
“Fuck,” he growls, his middle finger brushing up against my clit.
Bent forward, my face is buried in his shirt now. I bite down and feel his rock hard pectoral muscles, burning hot against my lips and teeth, a tinge of sweat, a hint of my man.
Oh, God, he’s mine just as much as I’m his.
Then he straightens and then lifts me as though I’m lighter than air. His eyes, producing tingles of their own, as he stares at me with such intensity and carries me to the bed. He places me down and then reaches up, unbuttoning his shirt, showing me more and more of his light-dappled chest.
“Take off your clothes,” he says, voice firm, a tremor beneath it telling me how hungry he is. “I want us to do it like animals. Completely naked. I want to watch you undress because it fucking shows how badly you want it, too. No nerves now, Dallas. No second-guessing. This is it, the reason we’re even on this fucking planet. Our existence has always lead to this moment, to me and you, my woman, and now I’m going to claim your juicy creamy pussy for the first time. And it will always belong to me after that, to lick, nibble, rub, and fuck until you squirt all over me. Understood?”
“Y-yes,” I whisper, the force of his words causing me to shiver as I hastily start undressing.
I pull the dress over my head and then tear at my bra and panties, wanting to get it done quickly so that I don’t have to hover in this moment and have time to think too much.
I don’t want to think about how this is my first time and I could disappoint him and blah-blah-blah, no, not tonight, not right now. This is about what our bodies want, and right now my body is screaming at me to trust my instincts, to just go with it.
I stare up at Dom, standing there completely naked now. His body is all carved muscle, all seven feet of him standing at the end of the bed like a stone statue.
And his cock is as stone solid as the rest of him, ten or eleven inches of pure throbbing flesh pointing almost straight up, his lust for me making him so hard.
Precome reflects the candlelight from his tip, a big dollop of it, and as I stare I get the craziest idea that I need to taste it.
See if it tastes as good as his chest.
Before I can fight down the urge with paranoia and self-hate, I lean forward and open my mouth as wide as it will go. Even so, fitting around his engorged helm causes the corners of my lips to ache slightly. I make the effort and suck the end of him, instinctively wrapping my hand around his base when I hear the moan in his voice.
For the first time, Dom sounds like his control might be slipping, like I’m in control.
“Fucking hell,” he croaks. “D-Dallas. You look so perfect right now, with your big creamy breasts bouncing with each s-s-suck. Stop. Fuck. Stop and lie on your back right now! You’ve got me good and slick and now it’s time I rewarded your needy patient pussy.”
I gasp and lean back, my mouth filled with the taste of him, which was good mostly because of how he moaned, how he trembled for me. Now I stare up at him, my center
