I reach into my backpack for protection, and soon I’m hovering over her. In a way, I almost don’t want to break the spell between us right now, because the first time is always so anticipatory, and the way I’m feeling with her, right now, waiting… it’s magical.
“Ready?” I ask. I feel like I always have to ask.
“Don’t ask me. Just do it.”
I oblige, and soon I’m thrusting into her over and over as our bodies connect and respond to each other.
I lied. I thought the feeling right before having sex with Evianna was the greatest feeling. But in fact, it’s actually having sex with her that’s the greatest feeling ever.
I’m propped up slightly so that my weight isn’t on her—her rib is still healing—and I’m trying to be as gentle as possible, but it’s hard when all I want to do is throw her legs over my shoulders and pound her senseless.
But I don’t. I bend down and kiss her gently, and she moans my name, sending waves of pleasure down my whole body.
“Evi…” I whisper, going deeper. She responds by raising her hips to meet mine.
Our heavy breathing mixes together, and I can feel her start to climax.
“Nick,” she breathes, biting my earlobe. “Nick…”
I look down at her just as we both release, and we both cry out loudly as the waves of pleasure make their way from her, to me, and back to her. We’re sharing this together, and our eyes lock on to each other the entire time. I’m not sure if I’ve ever felt this connected to anyone.
“I love you, Evi,” I say as we disconnect and lie together naked.
“I love you, Nick,” she says, smiling. “So much.”
She turns onto her side, grimacing slightly, and she watches me intently as I put my hands behind my head and look up at the ceiling, smiling.
“Truth or dare?” she asks, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Really?”
“Really.” She eyes me playfully.
“Dare,” I say, wiggling my eyebrow. It’s not the answer she expected.
“I dare you to make love to me again.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” She rolls back over to her back and looks at me seductively.
You can never violate a dare…
Epilogue.
Evianna
-Three years later-
I strut up the stage and try not to fall on my face as the dean of the university hands me my diploma.
“Congratulations, Mrs. Wilder.”
I smile as I take it from him, and a few people in the audience cheer and clap. I produce a small wave, but I’m teetering in these heels, and I really don’t want to fall over.
I clutch the railing as I make my way back to my seat, and the graduation music blares in my ears as I pass the speaker. I feel the familiar flutter in my stomach, and I rest my hand on the swollen mass underneath my robe—our future son.
I’m graduating with my doctorate in English literature, and I’m eight months pregnant. Violet picked out the shoes, and I’m already cursing her because my swollen feet are aching, and I’m not sure I can walk more than two feet in these things. They’re practically stripper heels.
I take a seat and wait for the rest of the ceremony to finish up. As it dies down, and as the dean gives one final speech, I see all of my fellow doctors throw their caps in the air. I do the same. Though this is my fourth time at a graduation ceremony, it’s still just as exciting. I feel tears leak from my eyes as the hats spin up into the air and back down. It’s beautiful, and I’m also damn proud of myself for doing this and getting here.
People begin to stand to leave, and I wait for our row to be dismissed. I walk steadily, using my belly as a navigator. Unfortunately, being pregnant in graduation robes isn’t cute—it just makes me look massive.