Bullet(52)

I looked at him, and his small smile was overshadowed by what I could see in his eyes—desire, hard and furious, ready to consume me. I might not have quite known what I was doing back then, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew he appreciated my hands on his penis, no matter how inexpert they were. “Like that?”

“Any way you want, babe.”

And I felt another chill climb my spine like an electric pulse. I liked how he’d been calling me babe, like it was a term of endearment. It made me feel special, even though in the darkest corners of my mind I suspected he’d called many a woman that very same name. I continued to stroke the length of his penis, now with more control and firmness. Then I looked at him to see most of his hair plastered to his head and neck from the water of the shower, and his eyes were dark, almost possessed. He pulled me close, enveloping me in a deep, powerful kiss, my hands still wrapped around his unrelenting cock.

He turned off the water and grabbed one of the white fluffy towels hanging on the shiny silver rod next to the shower. He dried off my front first, with little pats all along my body, but he rested on his knee as he dried my legs, and then he kissed my belly, just above my navel. And as he wrapped the towel around the back of my legs and started to stand, he licked one of my nipples and then drew it into his mouth, and I pulled in a sharp breath of air. He kept drying off my back until he’d reached my neck and then rubbed it against my hair to absorb most of the water dripping off the strands on the end.

He toweled himself off too but without the attention he’d just given me.

Gone was the notion of not doing anything, of the pretense earlier of just spending the night together. He and I, at this point, both knew that the shower activities were about to culminate in one thing, and it wasn’t going to be just lying next to each other on the bed like a couple of grade school kids watching TV.

Still, when we got to the bed and he pulled back the covers, inviting me to lie down and warm up underneath the blanket, he gave me the option. In spite of the fact that the weather wasn’t cool, I felt chilly. My wet hair was clinging to my back and neck, making it worse. But he slid under the blanket right next to me. We lay on our sides, facing each other, and he got close to me, wrapping his arms around me. “You’re cold.”

“Yeah.” My teeth were almost chattering, but I knew it wasn’t just the temperature. It was my excitement.

He kissed me again, and the heat and passion from his kiss, from his skin, from his body warmed me up. No…I knew I was as ready as I was going to get, and even though I was nervous and had no idea what to expect, really, I wanted to. He kept kissing me, and his penis was pushing against me again, making me want him.

And he was so patient. “Val, you sure you wanna do this?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

Well, I hadn’t even noticed that he’d prepared already. He had a condom on the nightstand, and he grabbed it, ripping the package open. Now was the moment of truth, the moment I’d been waiting for. He sheathed that beast and then moved on top of me. My breathing had turned shallow as my nerves threatened to turn my entire body into a puddle of jelly, but he kissed me again, helping me to relax once more. “Ready?”

Why would he even ask that? “Yeah.” And I gazed into his green eyes, now dark with desire yet filled with a tenderness I’d never seen from him before. His legs were between mine, but I hadn’t spread my legs apart or bent them or anything. I felt awkward again and embarrassed by my inexperience. He kissed me again and I closed my eyes, allowing myself to be consumed again by the desire I felt, and then he thrust himself into me. I cried out. I hadn’t expected it to hurt that badly. But it did, and it felt like he’d hit a wall inside me, one that was ripping as he forced himself against it. “Oh, shit!”

He stopped. “Does that hurt?”

“Fuck, yes.” I swallowed, now feeling a wave of panic overcome me, but then I closed my eyes again and took a deep breath. In theory—yes, only in theory—I’d known it would hurt; I’d known to expect pain; I just hadn’t been prepared for how badly it would hurt. But, logically, I knew it would have to be done. I wasn’t going to spend my entire life as a virgin.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Another deep breath. “No.”

“Do what you gotta do to make it through, babe. Bite, scratch, claw, scream, whatever.”

I didn’t plan to take out my pain on him, but it was nice to know I had an option. And then he forced himself through that barrier that, once broken, changed me from child to woman. I felt it give way, but my walls had to collapse to his girth as well. He wasn’t rushing, but each thrust wrought fresh pain. And it was like he was moving in slow motion, so it felt prolonged. My breath became jagged as I tried to fight the pain, and I just squeezed my eyes shut, hoping he’d be done soon.

He did stop soon after, and as he lay there catching his breath, I noticed my fingers were digging into the flesh of his back. I pried them off, straightening them out and opening my eyes. He was still inside me but not moving, and I wasn’t complaining. The fact that he was still was a relief. He looked at me then. “You okay if I pull out now?” Well, I knew it was going to bring a new wave of raw pain, but then the healing process would begin. For now, it was like a splinter stuck in my foot. Yes, stepping on the splinter had hurt and digging it back out would cause even more pain, but it would start to feel better once removed. So I nodded, my lips pursed together, braced and ready.

I didn’t cry out, although my natural inclination might have been to do just that. I was biting my lip as he pulled himself out. He wasn’t going too slow or too fast, and it didn’t hurt as much as I’d been expecting. I let out the breath I’d been holding in as he rolled onto the bed.

I just lay there, concentrating on my breathing, focusing on relaxing. He removed his condom and then rolled on his side to face me, so I rolled on my side as well. That felt like fresh hell, but I tried not to let it show on my face.

And the look on his face was rare and…beautiful. He looked happy, and that wasn’t a typical look for Ethan. He looked peaceful. He stroked my hair with his hand. “You okay?”

I nodded. The way he was looking at me made everything okay. I smiled at him, letting him know I was fine. “Yeah. Had to be done, right?”

He grinned. “No, not really. You could’ve decided to become a nun. They don’t have to do this, you know.”

I smiled again, sliding my arm under the pillow. “I think in the long run that’d be more painful.”

“How?”

I shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t want to tell him what I was thinking. But I knew now. I’d been experiencing some kind of awakening, and for all I knew, all girls went through it, but maybe I was a late bloomer. Whatever the case, there was a sexual creature inside me that had been trapped, and once she’d discovered there was an escape, she would have pushed to get out. I knew sex wouldn’t ever hurt like tonight again. I knew there was some sort of sensual nirvana waiting for me, some revelation I had yet to discover. Inside, I realized that. And to deny that to myself my entire life would have hurt far worse than the temporary pain I’d endured to pass into womanhood. And I wasn’t kidding myself either. I knew I’d be hurting all night long, but it would soon pass. I looked in Ethan’s green eyes, softer than I’d ever seen them before, and maybe that was due to the shitty lighting in the motel room, but he seemed open and vulnerable then. Part of me wanted to tell him all my thoughts, but I too felt too exposed. And after all we’d been through, another part of me felt like I couldn’t fully trust him. Oh, I wanted to. After all, I’d trusted him with one of the most sacred parts of myself that night. But I wasn’t ready to tell him of my growing self-awareness, of my awakening identity. I didn’t know that I wanted to tell anyone, because I didn’t fully understand it yet. My smile was shy. “I dunno. Could you imagine spending your whole life not having sex?”

He stroked my hair again. “Yeah, but my first time was nothing like that.” He got closer and kissed me on the forehead.

“I’m okay.”

He rested his hand on my neck. There was something in his eyes, but I just couldn’t read it. What the hell was he thinking? “I love you, Val.”

Oh. Oh, wow. Yeah, I loved him back, but for him to say it…and to say it first. Holy crap. Everything I’d ever heard about dysfunctional relationships (which I’d suspected we had) had made me believe I’d be the only one to ever say it, to ever really feel it. But there it was. He’d said it, and it took my breath away. I don’t know that I was able to smile because I was so overwhelmed. But I said it back. “I love you too, Ethan.” And then, seeing how his eyes lit up, I did smile.

He pulled me closer then, holding me in his arms, and after a while, I heard his breathing grow quiet but rhythmic. His chest rose and fell slowly at the same intervals, and I knew he’d gone to sleep. I shifted, but just a little, because every motion below my waist reminded me of the pain that was still with me. I wished he was still awake, because I wanted him, needed him. I wanted to talk to him, but then I realized I also just needed time for me.