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“I mean after. When you said you were coming back here and didn’t.” I follow him to his room, close the door behind us and then stare at him. “Were you with Kamila tonight?”
He breathes in deep, drags his hand over his face as he pushes out the breath and then regards me. I hate the look in his eyes because I’ve never seen it. I don’t even know how to describe it, but I know I never want to see it again.
He reaches for my hands and pulls me closer. “Did you kiss Carter?”
My cheeks turn red. “Yes,” I admit, not wanting to lie. “We were playing truth or dare and they dared me to kiss Carter. Did you fuck Kamila?”
“No. I didn’t,” he snaps, anger in his tone. “Why’d you do it? Why’d you kiss him?”
“Because they asked me if I’d fucked you yet, and I didn’t want to say. So I took the dare to kiss him.” My words shake and I hate the way I can’t gain control over them.
Blink steadily, he bites the corner of his lip. “I thought you wanted me?” His eyes are sad and he’s wearing same expression he wears any time his dad is mentioned. I hate that I’ve hurt him like that.
“I do, but I don’t know where I stand with you. I never know.”
He blinks, as if he can’t believe I’d question him. “So you kissed someone else because you were too afraid to ask?” He draws me closer. His hands shake as they reach my cheeks, eyes glossy and confused, and I think he’s nervous, or anxious for what I might do next. I’ve never seen him so… broken. “You think I don’t want you?”
“Ender….” With a frustrated sigh and wanting to get up and leave, I bite my bottom lip and force myself to be strong. I avoid eye contact. “I don’t know. I’m fifteen, remember?”
His hand curls under my chin, his touch light and gentle. “I still want you. Only.”
Unable to control my sobs, I struggle to find steady breathing. “I’m sorry.” I don’t even know what I’m apologizing for.
He stands with me in his arms and places me on the center of his bed before covering me with his body. Our eyes meet in the darkness. He kisses me then, an act of possessiveness I think, but he does it anyway, harder than Carter did. Maybe he’s trying to prove he’s the better kisser, or remind me who holds my heart in his hands. Either way, it’s demanding, as if he’s trying to show me he’s in control. And he is. There’s never been any doubt about it.
“I don’t want anyone but you,” he whispers, pulling back, his eyes finding mine. Lifting his lips from my neck, he covers my mouth, not waiting for my answer. And then his hips move and my knees fall, allowing him to consume me.
I thread my hands in his hair, bending around him, my heart thumping wildly in my chest and repeat his words back to him. “I don’t want anyone but you.”
“You could be with me, you know that?” he mumbles against my lips so quietly I’m not sure I hear him right.
“What?” Arching my back into him, he works up my shirt to palm my breast. Then my shirt is gone, tossed quickly with my bikini top, and soon after, his shirt with it. Everything is happening so fast it’s hard to process or keep up with. He’s dragging his erection back and forth of my center and I don’t ever want it to stop.
“Us. Together.” He pants, his voice desperate to convince me. I know my age will always shut him down because the fact of the matter is, I’m fifteen. I will always be two years and five months younger than him. Always. His eyes shines in the dark room and he stares at me. “I don’t want you with anyone but me,” he begs
“I won’t.”
He stops his movements, his hips stalling. He slides off the bed, standing in front of me. My heart races. What’s he doing? His eyes never lift from mine as he reaches for his belt. He unzips his baseball pants and slides them down, his shorts and boxers going with it, and I see him for the first time naked.
Oh my God.I swallow. Or maybe gulp. I’m pretty sure I gulp, unprepared for what happens next. “What are you doing?”
Falling onto the bed, his body comes closer, hovering over me, and I try not to stare, but he’s hard between us and I want so badly to touch it again. His fingers are at my bikini bottoms, tugging. My hands fly to his wrists, clenching the fabric between them. My thighs tremble, but I know if I say no, he’ll stop.
“Don’t tell me to stop.” With a quick flick, he shakes my grip away and tugs them down past my knees. Moving forward, he’s there for the first time, bare against me.
“Ender…” My voice shakes, trying to find words. Anything. “What are you doing?”
“Fuck,” he growls, nipping at my neck and sliding his erection between my folds. It’s slick and glides easily.
I’m not prepared for the sensations and gasp into his shoulder, my legs trembling. Reaching between us, he positions himself there, the head of his dick slipping over my clit, back and forth.
Watching me so carefully, he shakes his head, pushing forward a little. “Would you let me inside you?”
I nod, because I will and he knows it.
He stops, his breathing picking up. “Why?”
“Because I want you.”