Our eyes met, hers large and slightly drunken, and the beauty of her face stunned me as it always did, bringing me back to myself. God, what was I doing? I felt slightly crazed. “Oh, God, Lia. You must be sore. I’m so sorry,” I choked, trying to untangle myself from the grip of passion. I started to pull out of her, but she let out a resistant squeak and brought her legs around my hips, pinning me inside her with her feet digging into the muscles of my backside.
My lips tipped up, and I leaned my forehead on hers as I moved rhythmically, the storm passed, and just the sweet, gentle lap of the waves remaining. It felt so damned good. I could have lived right there in that moment forever.
She took my face in her hands and brought my lips to hers, and we kissed long and deep and slow as I pressed and retreated, pressed and retreated.
I felt her toes curl against the naked skin of my ass and I groaned into her mouth. Even through the haze of bliss, my mind felt clearer than it had the first time I’d been inside her, and I thought dazedly, I love you, I always have.
Pleasure built and I thrust more quickly, Lia’s thighs tightening around my hips, her tongue sweet and wet, twisted up with my own.
I moaned deep and low, pressing myself into her as my second climax hit. “Oh, God, Lia,” I breathed as I lifted my mouth from hers, rotating my hips to squeeze out every last drop of the tingling pleasure.
We lay there for a moment, my rasping breaths calming, reality slowly trickling back in. She adjusted herself slightly beneath me and I realized I was probably crushing her where we lay on . . . my kitchen table. Oh holy hell.
I pulled back, sliding out of her and she made the same small mewling sound she’d made the first time I’d pulled from her body. The first time. I ran my hand through my sweat-drenched hair, my eyes widening as I blinked down at her. I’d just taken Lia’s virginity on my kitchen table like some out-of-control wild animal. Like some plundering Viking.
I pulled my pants up quickly, looking around at the clothes flung everywhere, the small glints of the buttons that had torn from her shirt when I’d ripped it open, the overturned chairs I didn’t even remember pushing away from the table with such apparent violence that they’d tipped over. God, I hadn’t even heard them clatter to the floor and that wouldn’t have been a soft sound. My eyes moved to the windows and I was relieved to see the curtains were shut tight.
People might have been banging at the front door for all I knew and I don’t think it even would have registered. How could it? I’d been with the girl I’d loved for years. Beautiful Lia. My Lia.
My eyes flew back to her and I couldn’t read the expression on her face. She looked shocked, but her eyes were still lazy with satisfaction. The way she glanced at me was shy and unsure and her cheeks reddened as she pulled her skirt down and slid to the edge of the table.
I gripped her upper arms gently as she put her feet on the floor, wobbling slightly and gazing up at me. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, putting her palms over her naked breasts, biting at her lip, and glancing around at the scattered clothes. “We, um, we . . .” She didn’t seem to know how to finish that statement and neither did I, although a few things came to mind: lost control . . . went a little crazy . . . I didn’t know if I’d use those phrases because they implied that I might make a different choice if I’d been thinking rationally, and that wasn’t true. I didn’t regret what we’d done. I only regretted how we’d done it, or rather, the fact that her first sexual experience would always be remembered as being ravaged by a wild beast on the edge of a kitchen table. Jesus.
I felt ashamed. Her first time should have been in a bed with sweet words and tender touches. Her body should have been slowly and lovingly prepared to ease the way, not torn open by a thrusting, half-hinged savage. Fuck. What had I been thinking? Answer: I hadn’t. “Your first time shouldn’t have been that way. I’m sorry about—”
She put her fingers to my lips. “Don’t be sorry. Please don’t be sorry. I’m not.”
A sense of relief flowed through me, but my personal shame lingered. I should have controlled myself. That was my responsibility, not hers. I let out a shaky breath, nodded and kissed her again lightly. Because I could. Because she was mine. Because . . . she’d always wanted me to kiss her.
We gathered our clothes and dressed in silence. I picked up the chairs and returned them to the table, using a napkin to wipe the wood—I’d do a more thorough cleaning of it later so I didn’t embarrass Lia any more than necessary.
When I turned toward her she was attempting to close her shirt with the two buttons that remained, hanging loosely but still attached. I grimaced. There was a coat tree by the front door in the foyer and I went and grabbed a sweatshirt of mine hanging there and returned quickly, handing it to her. “Stay here. I’m going to go tell Cole you’re not feeling well and that I’m driving you home.”
“What if he comes in here?” She looked mortified at the thought.
“Tell him you got sick and your shirt was ruined. I’ll encourage him not to, though. He’s been drinking. I would have had to drive you home anyway.”
She nodded resolutely, pulling the sweatshirt over her head. It swam on her and was far too warm for the weather, but it would do for now.
“The restroom’s that way?” she asked, pointing toward the foyer.
“Yeah.”
She nodded, looking shy again.
“I’ll be right back.” I took one last look at her, my heart swelling with love, despite the awkwardness in the aftermath of our first time together, and left to find my brother. My brother whom I’d just betrayed by breaking our oath. Fuck.
A man is only as good as his word. And I was currently pretty worthless. So why did I feel so fucking happy? Why did I feel like instead of breaking my word, I’d kept some promise? A promise that had been buried deep inside my heart and was finally, finally seeing the light of day.
CHAPTER TEN
Annalia
The dirt road was bumpy and I felt the soreness between my legs with each jostle and jolt. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling and yet with each twinge of discomfort, I was reminded that that was where Preston had been and also felt the soft fluttering of joy within my heart.
Preston had made love to me. Preston wanted me. It still felt like a sweet, turbulent dream or one of the fantasies I tended to conjure as I walked somewhere far away and got lost in my own mind.
I stole a quick glance at him and though he was looking straight ahead, I could see that his expression was pensive and it made me feel insecure.
“What did you tell Cole?”
“That you’d gotten really sick, and I needed to take you home right away.”
I nodded. “Okay . . . thanks.” I wasn’t exactly sure what I was thanking him for, but it felt like the right thing to say.
He glanced at me and smiled, taking my hand in his and holding it for the remainder of the ride into town. “You’ll have to tell me where you live,” he said softly.
I directed him to my apartment building and doing so reminded me how separate our lives were, how little he really knew about me. Was he thinking the same thing?