The Boy and His Ribbon (The Ribbon Duet, #1)(129)

I shivered harder, a mix of terror and lust making me jumpy. My mind was nothing but fog—a mist where no thought could find me apart from touch.

Kiss.

Finger.

Sex.

No Ren.

No breaking hearts.

No Rachel989s.

My hand worked harder on his belt as he made me wet. His one finger morphed to two, stretching me in all the right ways. My head turned heavy, my eyes hazy as I struggled to free him.

Ducking to his knees, the stranger hooked my leg over his shoulder and kissed me in a place no one else had before.

His tongue ran over my smooth seam, flicking on the clit I’d been told did wonderful things but still had yet to learn them.

My knees almost buckled as lightning bolts appeared from nowhere. I latched my fingers into his hair, a flash of Ren filling my head with his sable copper locks.

I bashed my head into the wall behind me, wanting him out, needing him gone so I could enjoy this.

This wasn’t because of him.

This was because of me.

And he was once again ruining it.

“Della Ribbon…” the stranger moaned as his tongue entered me, and I collapsed into his arms. Pressing me against the carpet, he climbed on top of me, his hips thrusting between mine, his metal zipper cold against my heated wetness.

I squirmed beneath him, needing more, instinct making me reach for him and unbuckle his belt.

His hands fumbled for the condom on the floor as I successfully unbuckled his belt then unzipped his jeans. The minute I shoved them down his legs, followed quickly by his boxers, I gasped at the size.

I didn’t want to get hurt, but ouch, I couldn’t imagine how he’d fit inside me.

“It’s okay,” the stranger murmured as he arched his hips and rolled the condom on. Once sheathed, he cupped my cheek again. “I’ll do my best not to hurt you.”

I nodded. I didn’t know what for, but I was grateful. Out of all the horny teenagers I could’ve chosen, this boy wasn’t like them. He took his time. He kissed me sweet. He smoothed my trembles and wiped a rogue tear away as his kisses swept me away from Ren and delivered me to Ren at the same time.

“Do you want me to stop?” he whispered as my legs tried to clamp around his hips, feeling the strangeness of hard man against the soft yielding of me.

I paused, biting my lip, staring at the ceiling with a chest full of icicles and dread.

Did I want him to stop?

Not really.

Did I want him to hurry?

Yes.

Pulling his head back down to mine, I kissed him with heat and demand. “I want you to finish this.”

His eyebrows knitted together as if I’d hurt him, but his lips sought mine again as his hand wrapped around my hipbone. “I should do this in a bed for your first time.” His other hand disappeared between us, guiding the tip of him to my entrance.

I stiffened as the first press of him warned that this wasn’t a joke.

This was happening.

“I don’t care.”

I was about to lose every shred of innocence I had left to a boy I didn’t know his name.

“Wait.” I pushed at his shoulders.

He gritted his teeth but didn’t try to enter me. “You changed your mind?”

Resting my hands on his ass, I pulled him into me, making his eyes widen and mouth pop wide. As he sank into me, I shook my head. “No. But I want to know your name.”

He groaned as his length slid inside me, then hit an obstruction that pinched and burned.

He looked at me, looked through me, looked right into the person I was and said, “My name is David.”

David.

Della and David.

It had a nice ring to it.

We poised on the point of no return, his elbows jamming into the floor beside my ears, holding himself above me. “Do you want me to finish, Della Ribbon?”

My heart gave one massive kick of denial before I nodded. “Yes…”

And the rest is history.

He thrust inside, tore apart my virginity, and tried to be as gentle as he could. All the while, tears leaked from my eyes, and I kissed him with a ferocity that ended up with us rolling around on the floor as I fought him for power.

I wanted him to pin me down and take everything I had to give. Instead, he let me manipulate him. He allowed me to roll him onto his back and ride him on top, not caring that my insides hurt or the pleasure in my blood was mixed up, screwed up, and so far away from heaven that it sent me plummeting to hell where I surely deserved to live.

It lasted longer than I thought it would.

His thrusting sent ripples through me, his harsh breathing and tattered groans made me feel powerful and wanted, but when his pace increased and his fingers tightened and his kisses deepened, I didn’t leap into the void with him.

He came.

I didn’t.

He kissed me.

I kissed him back.

And then my cell phone rang, putting a full stop on one of the strangest paragraphs of my life.

Funny how Ren knew the exact moment to call. Almost as if he had some sixth sense telling him what I’d just done.

I ignored it.

Most of the time, I got home before Ren even noticed I was missing.

But not that night.

Unfortunately, or fortunately—depending on how you look at it—he caught me on the worst one, ringing me again, just as I was wiping a Kleenex between my legs and marvelling at the smear of blood.