After the movie ended, we stepped out into the quiet of the night. Time had slipped past us, unnoticed, and now the darkness hummed with the sound of crickets. The air was fresh, the atmosphere soothing, and for the first time in days, I felt the tension in my body ease. It was as if nature herself had wrapped me in a gentle embrace, pulling the stress and fatigue from my bones. I found myself longing to walk beneath the stars, to let the cool breeze soothe me even further as I made my way home on foot.
"Can I walk you home?" Alex's voice broke through my thoughts, soft and thoughtful.
I hesitated, not because I didn't want to, but because being around him too long did something strange to me. Every moment in his presence unraveled me a little more. The scent of him—masculine and intoxicating—was enough to make me want to melt into his arms and never leave.
"That's sweet of you," I said, trying to sound casual. "But I was thinking of taking a walk. It's such a beautiful night."
"We live in the same condo, don't we?" he smiled, warm and easy. "Why don't I join you?"
So we walked side by side, our fingers naturally intertwining somewhere along the way. Holding his hand sent small, electric shivers through me, igniting something in my chest I couldn't explain. My skin tingled wherever he brushed against me, and my mind couldn't focus on anything else but the quiet warmth between us.
The breeze was cool, but I barely felt it. I was more aware of the heat radiating off Alex, of the rhythm of his steps beside mine, and of the deep, almost primal pull I felt toward him. His presence awakened something in me, something raw and real, and honestly, a little terrifying.
By the time we reached our building, my heart was thudding faster than I liked to admit. We stood in the hallway outside our doors, and I turned to say goodbye—but before I could speak, his lips were on mine.
The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like he was asking a question only my body could answer. My surprise melted quickly into surrender. I kissed him back with everything I had, my fingers finding the back of his neck, drawing him closer. The kiss deepened, and I felt my breath hitch, unable to keep up.
"You might need some lessons in holding your breath," he murmured playfully, and I flushed, half-embarrassed, half-turned-on.
Before I knew it, I was on his bed, soft satin sheets beneath me. The scent of him surrounded me, warm and addictive. We hadn't stopped kissing since that moment in the hallway. Somewhere along the way, we'd stumbled into his apartment, never breaking the pull between us. My hands were in his hair, guiding him closer as he pressed his mouth to my chest, slowly working his way down.
My clothes were gone before I could even process it. He looked at me like he was starving, like I was the only thing that could satisfy him. I shivered under his gaze—not from fear, but anticipation. And when he lowered his head between my thighs and his tongue found my most sensitive spot, my back arched off the bed.
My breath caught. I moaned.
He looked up, grinning. "Let it out, baby. Moan for Daddy."
The way he spoke—rough, commanding—sent a jolt straight to my core. His fingers joined his mouth, working me with maddening precision. My body trembled, overwhelmed by sensation.
Then he paused, his hand stilled. "You're still a virgin, aren't you?"
I nodded, cheeks burning.
"We'll go slow," he promised, his voice softer now. "Only what you're comfortable with."
Still, the hunger in his eyes never faded. He slipped off his boxers, revealing himself. My breath caught again—not in fear this time, but wonder. I reached for him, stroking him gently. It was new to me, but my friends hadn't left me clueless. I wrapped my lips around him, doing what I could to make him feel the way he made me feel.
"Shit, Emma…" he groaned, gripping my hair. "You're gonna make me lose it right now."
He pulled me back up to him and kissed me, deeply, hungrily. My body ached with need. He rolled me onto my back, kissed my neck, my chest, and slowly worked his way between my legs.
"Please," I whispered, breathless. "Daddy… take me."
He looked into my eyes, completely focused on me. "If it hurts, tell me. I'll stop."
The moment he entered me, a sharp pain struck—but then his lips were on mine again, grounding me. His movements were slow, gentle, and soon the pain melted into something unfamiliar but thrilling. He whispered encouragement into my ear, kept my eyes locked on his, and little by little, my body adjusted.
The rhythm of his thrusts became steady, his breath warm against my skin. Waves of pleasure surged through me. I felt like I was unraveling, like every nerve in my body was alive.
"I feel… weird," I gasped, blushing furiously.
"Don't fight it," he whispered. "Let go. Let's come together."
And I did.
My whole body tensed, then released in a powerful rush. I cried out his name, and he followed soon after, groaning as he collapsed beside me.
For a moment, we lay there, breathing heavy, tangled together. I must've dozed off because the next thing I knew, something firm was pressing against my backside.
"You're not really asleep, are you?" he murmured, his voice playful against my ear. "I can't get enough of you."
He slid his hand over my hips, guiding me into a new position. On all fours, I gasped as his tongue trailed down and touched somewhere new—my most private place. I flinched, unsure, but his tongue was skilled and patient, and soon I was moaning again.
Then came the oil—warm, slick—dripping down my backside as he massaged it in. My entire body trembled under his touch. It was overwhelming, how good it felt, how right.
"I want to try something," he said, voice husky. "Tell me to stop if you need to."
He pushed into me slowly from behind, this time in a place I'd never imagined, and at first, it was strange—but then pleasure overtook everything. I melted into it, losing myself completely.
His hands held my waist firmly, his rhythm never wavering, and I could feel him building again. His climax came with a groan, and then he turned me over, his mouth on my clit, teasing me toward one final orgasm. I shattered under his touch, crying out as the world spun.
When I opened my eyes, he was kissing me again.
"Now you'll know how you taste," he whispered, and I tasted myself on his lips, strangely sweet and intimate.
"I love you, Emma," he said suddenly, breath warm on my neck. "Maybe it's too soon, but I want to be the man who takes care of you. You don't have to say anything now—just think about it."
He pulled me into his arms, holding me like I was something precious. His breathing slowed, and I knew he'd fallen asleep.
I watched him, fingers brushing over the contours of his face. His words echoed in my mind. My heart swelled and ached all at once. Was this real? I pinched myself.
The ache between my legs said yes. Very real.
And I fell asleep in his arms, content and claimed