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Purity: A Friends-to-Lovers College Romance: Chapter 14

Cole

SHE’S HERE.

She parked her car outside my house a moment ago, and her little footsteps are right now sounding along the concrete. I rush over to the front door and open it before she even gets the chance to knock.

The sight of her standing at the threshold sends a wave of possessiveness over me. She’s wearing a T-shirt and sweats—probably because she knows there’s no point in dressing up since we’ll be naked most of the time—and a duffel bag hangs from her shoulder.

She’s here to stay.

She’s mine.

I pull her into my arms and kiss the soft skin on her neck. I keep my hand on her lower back as I guide her inside.

“You’re so much touchier than you usually are with me,” she says.

I smile and lead her into the kitchen. “I’m going to get a lot touchier than this.”

She glances at the platter of baked ziti on the table and smiles. “You made dinner.”

“I tried. You know I’m not the best cook, so don’t get your hopes up.” I grab the bag from her shoulder. “How about I unpack this while you start eating?”

Her brow knits. “It’s not that much stuff. I don’t really see the need to unpack.”

I shake my head. “You’re unpacking. I cleared a drawer in my bathroom and made space in my closet. For the next week, you live here.”

When a childish grin spreads over her face, something twinges in my chest. She’s just as excited at the thought of her living here as I am.

“This feels so naughty,” she says.

My brow furrows, even as a smile tugs at lips. “Unpacking your bag is the least naughty thing you’ll be doing this week.”

“You don’t understand. Living with your boyfriend is one of the worst things a Christian girl can do. Having sex with your boyfriend is one thing, because even if you do it multiple times, you can always tell yourself you just messed up, but living with him is committing yourself to a life of sin…”

Her smile fades.

“What?”

“I just called you my boyfriend.”

I ought to be alarmed that I didn’t even notice, but it seems like nothing can drown out the euphoria of finally letting go. I shoot her a reassuring smile and lean forward to kiss her on the cheek.

“It’s okay. I basically am your boyfriend for the week. Alright, eat up. I’ll join you in a minute.”

After walking into my bedroom, I set her bag on my bed and unzip it. A pair of pink pajama shorts sits right at the top, and something about the sight of it makes my stomach flip over. I’ve never seen her wear pajamas before. During the countless hours we’ve spent together, there have always been strict boundaries.

As much as I want her naked this whole week, a part of me craves to see her as she is on a regular night, wearing these little shorts. I want to watch her brush her teeth with her hair damp from the shower. I want to wait quietly on my bed while she writes in her prayer journal, as I know she does every night.

I want every part of her that I’ve missed.

“Oh my gosh, the ziti is delicious,” she calls out, and I smile to myself.

It’s not delicious. I tried a bite of it already, but she’s always overly enthusiastic about the food I make for her. Maybe even especially when it isn’t particularly good, as if she’s worried I’ll pick up on the fact that she doesn’t like it and my feelings will be hurt. It’s one of her many small kindnesses that made me fall like a ton of bricks in those first few months we were becoming friends.

“I left it in the oven too long,” I call back. “The cheese got brown.”

“No, I love burnt cheese!”

“Eat up, then. I don’t want you to be hungry tonight, not with what I have planned for you.”

“Okay.” Her voice is much fainter this time. Is that nervousness?

I grab one of her dresses and put it on a hanger. After setting it in the closet next to one of my shirts, a tingling sensation runs over my skin.

How am I ever going to let her leave here? How am I going to share a bed with her for a week and then let her walk out of here forever, taking this little dress out of my closet as she returns to her old life, to our regular friendship?

I’ll think about this later.

After I finish unpacking her things, I join her in the kitchen. When my gaze falls to her plate, I want to smile yet again. She’s barely even nibbled at her ziti, despite her supposed love of burnt cheese.

“Livvy, if it’s inedible, you won’t hurt my feelings. We can find something on Grubhub.”

“No, it’s not that.” The shake of her head is jerky, and my gaze falls to her lap where her hands are pressed firmly together. Warmth washes over me when understanding dawns. I sit next to her and grab her hand. As expected, it’s stiff and damp. “You’re nervous.”

“Yeah.”

“What can I do?”

She scrapes at her top lip with her bottom teeth. “Can we talk a little bit? About what we’re going to do?”

Even as anxious as I am, my dick can’t help but stir at her words. It’s going to be difficult to talk about it without wanting to throw her over my shoulder and carry her into my bedroom, but I can do it.

“Of course,” I rasp.

Her gaze falls to her lap. “I’m about to be really open and vulnerable right now, and you’re probably going to laugh, but I just need to say it.”

Tenderness squeezes my chest tightly. I scoot my chair closer to her, set my hand on her back, and run my fingers up and down the soft skin at the base of her neck. “I’m not going to laugh. I promise.”

“I have no idea what to do with a penis.”

I clench my jaw tightly, engaging all of my facial muscles to keep my expression blank. I hold my breath to keep the hovering laughter from bursting out. Oh God, that took me by surprise. I swallow and nod slowly.

“And I know you have low expectations because you know I have no experience. And you’ll be understanding if I don’t touch it right or move right or whatever, but the thing is, I’m very scared of things that are unfamiliar to me. I know this sounds really silly, but basically…I’m scared of your penis.”

My face is straining to keep my lips from twitching. I want to reassure her, but I’m afraid my voice might crack. I twirl my finger around a strand of hair at the back of her head. “That’s okay.” I speak very softly.

“Cole.” Her tone is scolding, though her lips quirk. “Just laugh, okay? I know you’re trying not to.”

“No, I’m not,” I say, but my lips are twitching now.

She rolls her eyes. “The fact that you’re not laughing is even more annoying.”

When my chest starts to vibrate, I avert my face from hers and cover my mouth. She hits me gently on the shoulder. “I hate you. You should have just laughed from the beginning.”

“I’m sorry.” My throat is tight. “I totally get what you were trying to say. It was just…the way you said it. ‘I’m scared of your penis’.”

“It’s the pathetic truth.”

My laughter fades. “It’s not pathetic. I’m glad you told me.”

“I had to tell you. I had to get it out of the way now, because I know in the heat of the moment, I’ll be too ashamed to admit it. I was hoping we could agree now that you’ll tell me exactly what I need to do. Like, spell it out to me. Maybe even show me. It might be unsexy, but it will make me so much less anxious.”

I reach out and grab her by the waist, and her eyes widen as I lift her up and set her in my lap. She smiles as she lifts her knees and snuggles against my chest. God, she’s so soft.

“I don’t want you to be anxious.” I brush my lips along her head. “And it’s not unsexy. I probably would have gotten better a lot sooner at making women come if I had just outright asked how they wanted me to touch them.”

“Did you used to be bad at sex?” Her voice is full of disbelief.

I lift a hand and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t think anyone is good at sex when they first start out. It takes a while to learn what you like, and how to give other people what they like.”

“That’s part of why I’m nervous. You have years more experience.”

I squeeze her tightly. “You don’t have to be nervous. I’m going to enjoy whatever we do, but I’m relieved you’re comfortable enough to tell me what you’re feeling.”

She nods. “I think sexual communication is really important. I’m glad that you do too.”

My throat constricts as I kiss her on the cheek.

Oh God, I’ve never loved anything more than I love her.

“How about we do this,” I say. “We won’t even worry about my penis. We’ll pretend it’s not even there. I’ll keep my scary penis in my pants, and tonight will just be about you.”

Her face falls. “I want you to enjoy yourself.”

I snort. “I’ll definitely enjoy myself.”

“But not fully.”

“Livvy, trust me. I will fully enjoy myself.”

“But you’ll be sexually frustrated when we’re done.”

I shake my head. “I’ll jack off in the shower later. When I first met you, I used to do it after almost every time we hung out.”

Her eyes grow huge. “Did you really?”

I grin darkly as I squeeze the skin around her waist. “I told you I’m a filthy bastard.”

She frowns. “Then I must be too, because I think about you almost every time I masturbate.”

“What?”

When her eyes widen, I realize I nearly shouted at her. She swallows and averts her gaze from mine. “Yeah… I mean, sometimes I think about hot celebrities, but it’s usually you.”

I make my body grow very still, not wanting to spook her. “What do you think about?”

She smiles shyly. “That I could never tell anyone. Maybe Mari… But I don’t think I could share the details even with her. Trust me when I tell you that Christian girl fantasies are twisted, and it’s not just me. Purity culture messes with our heads. Mari thinks I should do my master’s thesis about it if I end up going to grad school.”

“Twisted how?”

She smiles, and her cheeks grow pink. “Cole, trust me. It’s weird. Like, I would be totally fine telling you if I thought it would turn you on, but I’m positive it won’t.”

I grip her at the back of her neck and force her to look at me. “Let me be the judge of that. Tell me, Angel.”


LIVVY

ANGEL.

I love it when he says it like that, like it’s a filthy word instead of an endearment I don’t deserve.

His fingers cut into my neck as I stare up at his face. Those blazing dark eyes are fixed on my face, and his jaw is hard. He looks like he wants to spank me, and goodness, I think I’d like it if he did.

“It’s too embarrassing,” I say.

He grips my neck tighter, and it sends an electric heat into my belly.

“You can do it.” His jaw ticks. “Shut your eyes. Pretend I’m not here.”

Something about the commanding tone of his voice makes my eyes fall shut of their own will. “I think about being hunted. We’re in a forest, and you’re chasing me.”

“Why am I chasing you?”

“Because you want to…” My lips close. Why can’t I get the words out when I think he’ll like them?

I gasp when he yanks my head back and presses a kiss against my neck. “You can say it. Tell me why I’m chasing you.”

“You want to fuck me.”

He groans against my neck. “Good girl.” He slides his hand along my thigh and up under my shirt before settling on my belly. The warmth of his skin sends a tingle into my groin. “Tell me more.”

Oh my God, I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe he’s talking to me like this.

“In my fantasy,” I say, “you’re a stranger, but it’s you. Do you know what I mean?”

“Yes.” His voice is rough.

“I’m running for my life, because I’m not really sure what you’re going to do to me.”

“What are you afraid I’m going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

He squeezes my neck, and I let out a gasp. “Yes, you do. Be a good girl and tell me.”

I swallow. “I’m not sure if you’re going to fuck me or hurt me, and for some reason, knowing it could be either one really turns me on.”

He groans, and the sound drifts over my body like warm water. Goodness, he really likes this, and here I thought I was a deviant for even thinking it.

His fingers slip into my pants, and my gut clenches as they trail their way downward, stopping just at the edge of my underwear. “What do I do when I finally catch you?” he asks.

I open my mouth and shut it, wincing afterward. “This is the really embarrassing part.”

“Tell me, Angel.” His warm breath tickles my ear. When he slips his hand into my underwear and settles his fingers on my clit, the breath leaves my lungs in a rush. “I’ll reward you.”

His fingers start to move, and I’m lost. Lost like I am at night when I escape to this dark, primitive world that provides my only wild escape from my pristine life.

“You pin me down by the arms and press your hips against mine,” I say, “so I can’t move. You tell me I can try to get away, but you won’t let me. And then you shove yourself inside me.”

“Oh fuck, Livvy.” His voice is a rasp. When he starts rubbing me lighter and more quickly, I whimper. “Is this really what you think about?”

Hot shame washes over me suddenly. When I try to pull away, he squeezes my neck firmly. “I didn’t mean that as a judgment. It makes me crazy to know you think about these things. Can you feel me right now?” When he moves his hips forward, something hard and sharp presses against my butt.

“If I had known this years ago, I would have devoured you.”

“You don’t think it’s kind of a deviant fantasy?”

He presses a hard kiss against my cheek. “No, I really don’t. You’re not hurting anyone. It’s just for you. And now that you’ve shared it with me, it’s making me lose my mind. Tell me more.”

The lull of his voice is both comforting and erotic at once. It took me years to realize there’s something deeply titillating about being forced to do the thing I desperately wanted but was always forbidden.

I lean my back into his shoulder. “You cover my mouth to make sure I don’t make a sound.”

His groan is almost pained. “Because you’d be loud. I know you’d be loud.” His lips graze my cheek, and the pace of his fingers grows more rapid, making my stomach grow taut.

“I don’t know if I’d be loud. I’m not loud when I touch myself. I only make a sound when I…”

When he halts the movement of his fingers, I hunch forward.

“Say it,” he commands. “Say it.”

Oh God, I love this. I love having him order me to do the things that have always made me scared and ashamed. I thrust my hips to get more of the touch I crave.

“No.” He withdraws his fingers further. “Not until you say it.”

I take a small breath. “When I come.”

He kisses my shoulder. “Good girl.”

When he returns his fingers to my clit, the up-and-down motion is much more frantic. “I really like it when you talk like that,” I say breathlessly.

“When I call you a good girl?”

“Yeah.”

“You are a good girl. Such a good girl to tell me your fantasy and use filthy words. Do you want me to reward you? Do you want me to make you come?”

“Yeah… Please.”

“Oh fuck, Livvy. I’ve always wanted to hear you say that.”

He removes his fingers from my clit. I shriek when he grabs me by the waist and lifts me into the air. Chair legs scrape against the tile floor just before my back is set on the hard kitchen table.

His eyes are bright, and his jaw is set as he stares down at my hips. As he yanks down my yoga pants roughly, he looks so much like the primitive stranger Cole of my fantasy.

After tossing my pants on the floor, he grips my thighs and spreads them apart. My initial instinct is to shut them, but thankfully, his grip is too firm. His eyes are half shut as he stares between my legs.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

Heat washes over me, pooling in my belly. My fantasies were never this specific. I never imagined him finding that part of me beautiful.

It makes me feel like a goddess.

He drops his head between my legs, nuzzles and inhales, and the heat of his breath makes me gasp. “Mmm,” he hums. “I’m going to be spending a lot of time here this week.”

The first brush of his tongue is like fire. Oh Jesus, that slippery softness is so much better than a finger. After only a few strokes, that familiar wave of pleasure is already building. The delicious torture makes my hips buck, but he holds them tightly.

“You taste like heaven.”

His words send liquid heat into my belly. As he sucks and licks my clit, I’m pulled into the dark forest. He’s caught me, and now he’s feasting before he ravages me. His mouth drifts lower to…

Oh my goodness! The whimper pulled from my chest is involuntary. Where is the shame? I never imagined being licked and sucked there, and nothing but this heavenly feeling could keep me on this table.

My hips start to flail, but he holds me tightly against the table. “You can’t get away,” he whispers against my clit. “You’re mine now.”

Euphoria crashes over me, and I scream. “Oh my God!” I whimper. “Oh my God!” When the final wave of pleasure washes over me, my hips buck one last time before my whole body grows limp.

As I melt into the table, Cole’s face enters my clouded vision. “You’re perfect.” He presses his lips against mine and slips his tongue into my mouth. I set my hand on his shoulder as I kiss him back.

His body is trembling. “You’re shaking,” I say.

“That I am.” He stands, grabs me by the hips, and lifts me. Cradling me against his chest, he carries me to the couch and sets me down gently. “I’ll be right back.” He smiles.

I frown as he walks into the bathroom. A few seconds later, the shower faucet turns on, and my stomach sinks. He’s going to get himself off.

I don’t know what happened to me after that orgasm, but the prospect of touching his penis isn’t nearly as scary, especially when the alternative is waiting out here while he reaches that blissful state without me. I push myself from the couch and march toward the bathroom. Mist seeps out through the doorway, and by the time I make it inside, he’s already in the shower. His big form is murky through the wet glass, but I can make out that up-and-down motion of his hand.

My languid body comes alive again.

I peel off my shirt and unhook my bra. The misty air on my bare nipples makes cold shame twist in my stomach, but I can’t let it stop me. He’ll like seeing me naked. I know he will.

When I open the shower door, his head jerks up, and his eyes grow wide. “Holy shit, you’re naked!” His gaze roams from my chest to my hips and back to my chest again.

A giddy smile rises to my lips. “Can I help you out?”

His mouth drops open. “Fuck, I can’t believe this is actually happening. Yes, of course you can.

Get in here.”

I keep my gaze fixed on his upper body as I step inside. Goodness, he’s so beautiful. The water flows over his bare, muscled chest, and strands of his dark hair is plastered against his face. I always loved looking at him whenever we went swimming together.

This is so much better.

I can’t look at his penis just yet, because if I do, I might chicken out, but it hovers just outside of my vision. I keep my gaze fixed on his face as I kneel down on the hard tile.

His dark brows draw together. “Oh fuck.”

I grin up at him before finally letting my gaze fall, and the sight in front of me makes my stomach do a little turn.

Oh fuck is right.

It’s big.

It’s really big, but didn’t I expect that? I don’t have anything to compare it with, but he’s six-foot-five and built like a lumberjack. There’s no way his penis wouldn’t look big to me.

I can do this. I can fit at least the tip of it in my mouth.

I look up at him. “I thought it would be veiny and scary—and ugly, if I’m being honest—but I actually like the way it looks.”

His rigid expression softens a little. “It likes the way you look too, and it was already just a couple seconds from exploding so—”

I plunge forward and wrap my mouth around the tip.

“Fucking Jesus, Livvy,” he shouts.

I move in the back-and-forth motion I’ve seen in movies, not quite sure what to do with my tongue, but he doesn’t seem to mind. His skin feels a little rubbery, but not unpleasant. And hearing his big groans makes heat fill my gut.

“Livvy, honey.” His voice is strangled. “I’m going to come.”

I hum, and he groans again, sounding almost in pain. “Sweetheart, I can’t come in your mouth. You need to pull away.”

I shake my head slightly as I speed up my pace, just the way I do with my fingers when I’m close to coming. He pulses, and a small spurt of salty liquid trickles into my mouth. I suck hard, lest I lose my nerve when the rest of it comes out.

“Fuck!” he shouts, and a burst of liquid shoots into my throat. I gag a little, but I keep my mouth in place. He digs his fingers into my hair as he hunches forward. “Oh God, you’re an angel.”

My stomach flutters at his words and the roaring groan that follows them. As it fades into a whimper, his grip on my hair softens into a caress.

When I pull back, a little bit of come dribbles out of my mouth. I look up at him. “I guess I couldn’t swallow all of it.”

He releases something between a cry and a laugh and shakes his head. “I can’t believe that just happened.”

I stand up and wrap my arms around him, relishing the slickness of our wet bodies pressed against each other. “It was fun, and I never thought a blow job would be fun. They always sounded gross to me.”

“I never thought I’d get one from you, and I’ve imagined it a million times. In fact, I was imagining exactly that just a minute ago.” He squeezes me tightly. “I don’t think I’m ever letting you leave this house.”

I smile against his chest. “I don’t want to go anywhere.”

He lifts my slippery body and pulls it against his chest, pressing a hard kiss against my cheek as he carries me out of the shower. “Let’s go to bed.”

After gently laying me down on the mattress, he crawls in next to me and pulls me against his warm, damp body. I twist around to look at his face. “Are we going to have sex now?”

Even after all of that, nervousness flutters in my belly, but he shakes his head. His gaze grows hooded as he brushes his hand against my cheek. “Let’s lie here for a little bit first. I just want to look at you.”

His expression is as tender as I’ve ever seen, and something tugs at my chest. I recognize that look. It’s a reflection of my own heart.

I think he really is in love with me, but there’s only one way to find out for sure.

I can’t keep holding on to my delusional hope, no matter how much it’s warmed me over the years, because in the end, it’s as flimsy as an old baby blanket. It’s preventing me from moving forward and growing. If he doesn’t love me, if he doesn’t want to be with me, I need to know.

After he takes my virginity, I’m going to tell him how I feel.


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