my finger down the side of her neck. Her head leans into my arm, and I can tell she’s totally spent. She’s two seconds from passing out after that orgasm.
I congratulate myself in my mind.
I lean down and whisper in her ear. “I want it to be perfect. You deserve perfect for our first time.”
Her entire demeanor switches when I say that. I roll over to the side of her, but keep my arm wrapped around her midsection. I don’t ever want to let go. I never want her out of my fucking sight.
I would fight for her. I would fucking die for her in an instant if I needed to. I want her to feel protected, safe at all times around me.
I whisper one more time in her ear, “You’re not going anywhere, though. You’re staying right there, all night long.”
I expect her to say something about how she has to go home, how it’s not right, how we’re not married, or some Christian shit like that.
But she doesn’t.
She nods sleepily, and says, “Okay.” Then she wiggles her ass against me to get comfortable, and there’s no way she can’t feel how hard my dick is, pressed up against her.
I catch a quick smile on her face the second she does it. Then she grinds it against me one more time, and that time she did it on purpose.
I want to thrust back against her, so she knows to stop tempting me, but I don’t.
Instead, I dig my fingers into her hips to hold her still, and whisper, “Cut that shit out. It’s not nice.”
She giggles a little. “Sorry. Not used to sleeping next to someone.”
“Yeah, I bet that’s what it was.”
Despite the raging set of blue balls I have coming, I smile, because I don’t know if I’ve ever been happier. The woman I love is finally in my arms, whether she loves me back or not.
She will, soon enough. That’s a damn promise. I’m going to make Mary fall for me, then I’m going to spend the rest of my life with her. That’s exactly what’s going to happen. She might not know it now, but it has been decided.
“Night, Mary.”
She doesn’t respond, because she’s already asleep in my arms.
Mary Patrick
I wake up in Rick’s bed, and I want to be a little frightened, or for it to feel awkward, but it doesn’t. It’s perfect, like this is how my life is meant to be, and at the same time I cringe, like I’m doing something wrong, even though I’m not.
My mind immediately goes straight back to the night before.
Wow.
I honestly didn’t even know my body could do that, not like that anyway. His mouth has magical powers, I’m convinced of it. It was so intense. He knew exactly how to touch me, which buttons to push. I squirm a little in his bed, thinking about it.
Then, I realize I passed out in my clothes from our date, with my skirt still up around my waist. My hair must look ridiculous, and I have nothing to fix it with. Not that I’m self-conscious about my looks or anything, but I want to at least be presentable. He’ll probably run for the hills the second he sees me.
Slowly, my eyes adjust to the light in the room, and I look around. I jolt in the bed the second my eyes lock on him. He’s sitting there, shirtless, in a chair, watching me sleep.
For some reason the first word out of my mouth is, “Creep.” I start laughing the second I say it.
He laughs too, and he’s like a little boy when he does it. In the moment, he’s perfect. I’ve never seen him look this way. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen that laugh. The look on his face says he has everything he’s ever wanted, and it’s because of me. There’s something intimate and special about it. And to my surprise, he doesn’t run for the hills when he sees me and my tangled web of hair. On the contrary, he looks like he can’t wait to kiss me again.
But he doesn’t.
He gestures toward the kitchen and says, “Come on, I made breakfast.”
I stretch my arms up over my head like a cat and yawn, then slowly pull my skirt down and get out of his bed, even though I never want to leave it. As I approach, he stands up, and his palms meet my face. He kisses me again, much softer this time, and