six
Alex
Something primal rises in me when I kiss her. I've spent five years building walls, creating distance, protecting myself from connection. Yet here I am, about to tear down every barrier for this woman I barely know but somehow can't resist.
I capture her mouth again, this kiss deeper and more demanding than before.
Her inexperience is evident in the tentative way she responds, but what she lacks in technique she makes up for in enthusiasm.
Her hands clutch at my shoulders, fingers digging in as I press closer. She still smells like smoke.
"Alex," she gasps when I trail kisses down her throat, finding the sensitive pulse point that makes her shiver.
Her head falls back, giving me better access to the delicate line of her throat. I take full advantage, alternating between gentle kisses and light grazes of teeth that draw small, intoxicating sounds from her lips.
My hands slide under the hem of her shirt, encountering bare skin that feels like silk against my calloused fingers.
"Cold hands," I apologize, about to withdraw.
"No," she catches my wrists, keeping my hands against her warm skin. "Just new. Don't stop touching me."
I push her shirt higher, revealing the soft curve of her stomach, the edge of her simple cotton bra. Her cheeks flush pink as I take in the sight of her.
"Beautiful," I say, meaning it. She's all delicate curves and creamy skin. There's a vulnerability to her partial nudity that makes my chest tighten with unexpected tenderness.
I can’t let her be the only one naked. I tear off my sweaty shirt. watching her eyes widen as she takes in my chest and torso. Her fingers reach out tentatively, tracing the line of an old climbing scar across my ribs.
"You're... wow," she breathes, exploring the landscape of my body with careful fingers. "Like something carved from stone."
I should feel self-conscious under her scrutiny—the silver in my chest hair, the evidence of forty years of living etched into my skin. But the naked admiration in her eyes makes me feel powerful, desired in a way I haven't experienced in years.
"Can I touch you?" she asks, her gaze dropping to the obvious bulge straining against my jeans.
"Not yet," I reply, pressing her back slightly. "Ladies first."
Her brow furrows in confusion until I drop to my knees before her, hands gripping her hips at the edge of the counter. Understanding dawns in her eyes, followed immediately by uncertainty.
"You don't have to," she begins.
"I want to," I interrupt, looking up at her. "I want to taste you. All of you."
The flush deepens across her chest and face. "No one has ever done this to me before."
Sheryl’s innocent admission inflames me further. "Let me be the first, then."
When she's left in only simple cotton panties, I press a kiss to her inner thigh, feeling the muscles jump beneath my lips. "Relax," I murmur against her skin. "Trust me."
"I do," she whispers, and something in my chest clenches at the simple declaration.
I slide her panties down her legs, revealing all of her to my gaze. I press a kiss to her inner thigh, then higher, then higher still until my mouth finds her center.
Her sharp intake of breath turns into a moan as I taste her for the first time. Sweet and heady, the flavor of her desire like nothing I've experienced before.
I take my time, learning her body's responses, discovering that firm pressure here makes her gasp, that gentle circles there make her thighs tremble. Her hands find my hair, fingers tangling in the strands as her hips begin to move against my mouth.
"Alex," she pants, the sound of my name on her lips driving me wild.
"Let go," I encourage her between strokes of my tongue. "I've got you."
Her inexperience shows in how quickly she builds toward release, in the surprised sounds she makes as pleasure overtakes her. When she finally comes, it's with a cry that echoes through the kitchen, her body tensing then shuddering beneath my hands and mouth.
I ease her through it, gentling my touch as she catches her breath. When I finally look up at her, the sight nearly stops my heart—flushed skin, parted lips, eyes heavy-lidded with satisfaction, hair a wild tangle around her shoulders. She's never looked more beautiful.
I rise to my feet and pulling her against me for a kiss. She moans softly as she tastes herself on my lips.
Her hands find the button of my jeans, more confident now. "I want you," she says against my mouth. "Please."
I help her with the button and zipper, freeing myself from the confining denim. Her eyes widen as she takes in the size of me with hunger and determination.
"Wait," she says, her hand on my chest stopping me. "There's something you should know." She takes a deep breath, her cheeks flushing deeper. "I'm a virgin."
The words hit me, sending a surge of primal possessiveness through me that I never expected. I step back, running a hand through my hair as I try to process this. "You’re a virgin?"
"Does that change anything?" she asks, suddenly looking vulnerable sitting naked on my counter.
"Of course it does," I say, even as every cell in my body urges me to take her, claim her, make her mine. "You should have your first time with someone your own age. Someone—"
"Someone boring and fumbling and just as inexperienced?" she interrupts, fire returning to her eyes. "I don't want that. I never have."
I shake my head, trying to be the responsible one even as desire burns through me like wildfire. "You're twenty-two. I'm forty. This is—"
"This is exactly what I want," she says firmly. "I write about passion, Alex. About first times that matter. About men who know what they're doing." Her hand reaches for me, wrapping around my length with unexpected boldness. "I want you to be my first. I've been dreaming about a man like you."
Her touch is destroying what's left of my restraint. The knowledge that no one has had her before, that I would be the first to claim her body, awakens something primitive in me that I didn't know existed.
"You deserve better than being taken on a kitchen counter," I growl.
A smile plays at her lips. "Maybe that's exactly what I want." She leans forward. "Please, Alex. Make me yours."
The last threads of my control snap. I crush my mouth to hers, lifting her from the counter with hands beneath her thighs. I turn, pressing her back against the nearest wall, her legs wrapping instinctively around my waist.
I press my throbbing cock into her slowly, feeling the resistance of her body, watching her face carefully for any sign of pain. Her breath catches as I breach her, a small wince crossing her features.
"Breathe," I instruct her, holding still despite every instinct screaming to thrust deeper. "Relax around me."
She nods, her teeth releasing her lower lip as she exhales slowly. I feel her body yield further, accepting more of me.
"That's it," I encourage her. "You're doing so well, taking me so perfectly."
The praise seems to relax her further, and I'm able to press deeper, careful not to rush. Her pussy is so hot and wet, it feels like heaven.
"You feel incredible," I tell her, my voice strained with the effort of remaining still. "So tight. So perfect around me."
Her hands clutch at my shoulders, nails digging in slightly. "Fuck me," she begs. "Please."
I obey, beginning with gentle, shallow thrusts that gradually deepen as her insides accommodate me. The discomfort on her face slowly transforms into pleasure, her little gasps and moans driving me wild.
"Yes," she breathes as I find a rhythm that has her head falling back against the wall. "Just like that."
I adjust my grip, one hand supporting her weight, the other sliding between us to where we're joined. My thumb finds the sensitive bundle of nerves that makes her cry out.
"Alex!" she gasps as I circle that spot in time with my thrusts.
"That's it, sweetheart," I encourage her. "Let me feel you come around me."
Her inexperience means she's building quickly again, her inner muscles fluttering around me in a way that threatens my own control. I increase the pace slightly, angling to hit the spot that makes her moan louder.
"I'm so close," she whimpers, her arms tightening around my neck.
"Come for me," I command softly against her ear. "Let go."
She shatters with a cry of my name, her body clenching around me so tightly it nearly makes me come, too. But the sight of her coming undone, the knowledge that I'm the first—the only—man to ever see her like this, unleashes something feral inside me.
I withdraw suddenly, turning her and bending her over the kitchen counter in one swift motion. She gasps in surprise, her hands scrambling on the smooth granite.
"I need to take you hard," I growl against her ear, one hand tangled in her hair, the other holding her hands behind her back. "Tell me if it's too much."
"Yes," she moans, arching her back to press herself against me. "Please, Alex."
I enter her again in one powerful thrust, my control shattered by her willing surrender. She cries out, but it's a sound of pleasure, not pain, spurring me on. I set a relentless pace, claiming her body with a primal intensity I've never felt before.
"You're mine," I hear myself say, the words pulled from somewhere deep and possessive. "All mine."
"Yours," she agrees breathlessly, meeting each thrust with growing confidence. "Only yours."
I grip her hips hard enough to leave marks, driving into her with abandon. Each thrust makes her eyes roll back and her tongue flick out on her lower lip.
I feel my release building, pressure coiling at the base of my spine, tightening with each thrust. "You feel too good," I groan, pace becoming erratic as I chase the edge. "I'm going to come."
"Inside me," she gasps, the words nearly my undoing. "I want to feel all of you deep inside of me."
With a roar I didn't know I was capable of, I drive into her one final time, release crashing through me like a wildfire.
The pleasure is blinding, overwhelming, consuming every sense as I empty myself deep inside her.
Every pulse feels endless, my body locked in a state of perfect ecstasy as I mark her as mine in the most primal way possible, painting her with my seed.
I collapse over her back, chest heaving, my arms braced on either side of her to keep from crushing her smaller frame. Her body still pulses around me, aftershocks of her own pleasure milking the last of mine.
For several heartbeats, the only sound is our ragged breathing. Then I press a kiss between her shoulder blades, gently withdrawing and turning her to face me. Her expression is dazed, lips swollen from our kisses, cheeks flushed with exertion.
"Are you okay?" I ask, suddenly aware of how rough I'd been. "Did I hurt you?"
She shakes her head, a slow smile spreading across her face. "That was so much better that I could have even imagined."
I kiss her again. This young woman with her romance novels and candles has somehow slipped past every defense I've built, igniting something I thought had died in that fire five years ago.
And for the first time since then, I'm not afraid of getting burned.