I WAKE up out of a dead sleep with a gasp, my eyes flashing open to find my bedroom still completely shrouded in darkness, a heavy arm draped across my waist. A wall of heat is at my back and it’s currently shifting, something particularly hard poking my butt when he moves.
It’s West.
He was passed out completely when I came out of the shower earlier, his shirt gone and his pants undone and shoved halfway down his hips. As if he fell asleep while trying to take them off, and as drunk as he was, I wouldn’t be surprised. I tugged them off before I crawled into bed with him and fell into a deep sleep instantly.
At the party he acted so strangely. At first, he seemed happy enough, but then his mood quickly switched to anger. I blame the alcohol. He was completely shit faced, but does this mean he’s an angry person deep inside? I was always told your truest self comes out when you drink.
If that’s the case, West is hiding a lot of anger.
A low hum sounds close to my ear, making me shiver. I’m only in a pair of panties and his hand currently rests on my bare stomach, his fingers lightly skimming across my skin. Is he awake? I decide to test it.
“West?” My voice is more whisper than sound and I wait, holding my breath for a response.
“Hmm?” His hands wander, both of them sliding up, cupping my breasts, his thumbs playing with my nipples.
“You’re awake.” I hiss in a breath when he pinches a nipple.
“I am.” He sounds amused, his voice a rough, raspy sound that I feel to the very core of my being.
“What are you doing?” I mean, I know what he’s doing, but why now? Isn’t he still drunk? Maybe not.
“What I should’ve done earlier but my drunk ass couldn’t handle it.” He chuckles. “You feel so damn good, Carolina.” The sound rumbles from his chest, making my skin catch on fire and I arch my chest into his hands, sinking my teeth into my lower lip to keep from moaning.
I never want him to stop touching me.
His hands slide down my ribcage. Across my stomach. Over my hips and down further, sliding in between my thighs, pausing there. “Roll over onto your back.”
West shifts away to give me room and I follow his command, lying on my back and staring up at the ceiling, my gaze falling to watch as he positions himself over me, his mouth settling on my neck. Raining hot kisses along my throat. On my shoulders. Across my collarbone and chest. The tops of my breasts. His hot breath drifts across one nipple, making me close my eyes at the sensation, a whimper leaving me when he draws the hard bit of flesh into his mouth and sucks. Hard.
I sink my fingers into his hair, holding him to me as he sucks and licks. The more he does it, the more restless I grow, until my legs are twisting and my fingers are pulling his hair. He kisses his way down my stomach, his hands back on the inside of my thighs, spreading me as wide as he can, before he attacks me with his mouth.
A teeth-rattling groan escapes me and I lift my hips, seeking more of his greedy lips. He licks me everywhere he can, his tongue teasing my entry, circling it. Thrusting inside—just before he replaces it with his fingers. I about shoot off the bed when he does that, two fingers pushing deep inside me.
“So fucking tight,” he mutters as he finger-fucks me, his rhythm steady, his thumb rubbing my distended clit in tight little circles. “I wanna make you come.”
His words send me over the edge, surprising me. My entire body erupts in goosebumps as the shudders wrack my body, the orgasm rolling through me. I’m grinding my pussy against his mouth, his lips sucking my clit, and it’s too much. I try to roll away from him but he grabs hold of my hips, keeping me in place, his mouth softening as he kisses the sensitive skin just above my pussy.
“I want you so fucking bad, Carolina.” The desperation in his voice matches the feelings currently swirling within me and I reach for him, the relief that floods me when his mouth finally finds mine almost overwhelming.
We kiss and kiss, his tongue thrusting inside of my mouth matching his fingers which are still inside of my body. I’m so wet I can hear his fingers slick through my flesh, and his cock is heavy against my stomach, insistent as it stretches the front of his boxer briefs. I reach for the waistband, trying to shove them off his body and he rolls away from me, rising to stand so he can shuck them off hurriedly.
I watch, staring at him as if I haven’t seen him naked before, my gaze cataloging every single thing about him. His broad shoulders and defined arms. The flat expanse of his ridged stomach. That trail of dark hair that leads from below his navel straight to his erection. He’s so big. Thick and long and I lick my lips, lifting my gaze when I hear his tortured groan.
“What’s wrong?”
“You can’t stare at me like that, Carolina. Like you want to devour me.” His voice is pure sexual misery.
“Maybe I do.”
He rejoins me on the bed, positioning himself so he hovers above me, his hands planted on the mattress, on either side of my head. He stares into my eyes, his expression soft, his lips swollen and my heart flips over itself.
I care about this boy so much. Too much. It feels dangerous right now, my emotions. Like everything could explode in my face at any given moment.
I shove the ugly thought aside, telling myself not to worry.
“You put your lips on my dick and I’ll come,” he says bluntly. “And I’m not wasting this on a blow job.”
“But wh—”
He kisses me before I can finish the sentence and I’m lost. Lost in the press of his hot body on top of mine. The softness of his lips, the heat of his tongue. He slides his hands down my sides, his fingers curving around my hips, adjusting me and when I feel his cock resting at my entry, I know the moment is close.
We’re about to have sex for the first time. My first time ever.
I press my hands against his chest, causing him to break the kiss and lift up slightly. “Are you okay?”
“You don’t have to use a condom. I’m on birth control.”
It took me forever to get my period—I was fourteen when it finally came and then it threw my hormones completely off balance. When I came home for the summer after I first got my period, I was a raging, hormonal bitch and my mother took me to the gynecologist and put me on birth control immediately.
It’s been fairly smooth sailing ever since.
“I remember.” He starts to dip his head but I push his chest again, stopping him. “What?”
“How did you know?” I’m confused.
“The night we first met. At the opera house. You told the security guard you left your birth control pills inside and you needed to get them,” he reminds me.
I smile, slowly shaking my head. “At the time, I didn’t think you could understand French.”
“I know, and I did. I understood every single word you said.” His smile is sweet and I shift my hand so it’s placed directly over his heart. It thumps wildly, just like mine.
“I want to feel you,” I whisper. “Every single inch of you.”
He parts his lips but doesn’t say anything, his gaze roaming over my face slowly. As if he too is trying to memorize my every feature so he can remember it later. “It’s going to hurt.”
“I don’t care.” I slip my arms around his neck, burying my fingers in his hair. “You’ll make it better. You always do.”
That’s the closest I will get to saying I care about him. It’s so hard for me to say the words. To express emotions that will only leave me vulnerable.
Something unrecognizable shines in his eyes just before he dips his head and kisses me again, his mouth stealing my breath, my thoughts. All I can do is feel.
He ends the kiss and wraps his fingers around his erection, brushing it against me, pressing the head to my clit. I arch beneath him, wanting more, growing tense the moment he slips just the tip inside of me.
It’s so thick. I don’t know if I can do this.
“Relax,” he whispers. “I’ll go slow. I promise.”
His words ease some of my fear and I do my best to do as he says and relax, but it’s difficult. He slips inside of me inch by inch, stretching me. Filling me up. I wince at the sensation, my inner walls clenching around his shaft and he goes still, breathing hard.
“Feels like you’re trying to strangle me,” he murmurs.
“I’m sorry.”
He kisses me. “Don’t apologize.” Another kiss. “Just—try not to tense up.”
West keeps kissing me, which helps me relax, just as he wants. His cock is hot and thick, buried deep inside of me and I swear I can feel it throbbing. Insistent. I spread my legs a little, allowing him to sink further and a moan escapes me.
That felt … good.
“I’ll keep it slow,” he promises as he starts to move his hips, pulling almost all of the way out of me before he pushes back inside. He keeps this pace up for a while, the slow drag and pull of his cock moving in and out of my body nearly driving me out of my mind.
It drives him out of his mind too. I can tell by the strain in his face, his muscles. The sheen of sweat coating his skin. He’s holding back for my sake and I feel bad.
Drifting my hands up and down his back, I tell him, “You don’t have to restrain yourself.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“It feels—better.” It does. Somewhat.
Mostly.
“Go ahead,” I tell him when he still hasn’t said anything. When he seems to be waiting to gain my permission, which is completely unlike him. “Let go.”
West begins to move again. Pumping harder. Faster. His hips are moving at an accelerated clip, his steady thrusts making that familiar feeling rise within me. And when he reaches between our bodies and starts playing with my clit?
I’m coming. Moaning his name, my inner walls squeezing around his length again and again. He groans, going still above me just before he comes, filling me with semen, his body clinging to mine, his hips shoving me up the mattress with one last push.
Until he collapses on top of me, his body damp and heavy, his mouth finding mine. He kisses me with a desperation I’ve never experienced before. As if he’s trying to tell me something he’s almost … afraid to say out loud.
I can’t think about it too much. I’m too wrapped up in the moment, in him. I feel connected to West, and that is something I’ve never experienced before.
Almost as if this boy …
Was made for me.
