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Authors: Faith Andrews
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insulted, but I came to realize that he is a rare breed—it’s actually refreshing. It’s nice to know that not all men are horny pigs willing to sleep with anything with a pulse. That some men actually wait for love. Plus the idea of being Declan’s first makes me giddy with anticipation.
He nibbles my ear, creating tiny goosebumps across my skin. If only it stopped there, then the ache for more wouldn’t be so painful. But it never does. Those wispy prickles always wind up traveling further down south, forcing me to clench my legs together in hopes of controlling the urge to open up and beg.
“Dec, we should stop. I know you’re not ready and those lips…” Those lips are teasing the tops of my breasts now, making me want to rip off my bra so they can be free and available for his mouth. “Oh my God, please. This isn’t fair.”
Through panting breaths, Declan whispers in my ear, “What if I told you I was ready?”
What? Did I just hear right? Should I consider this my cue to unbutton his jeans and grab the condom that has been waiting impatiently in my bedside table? Believe me, that’s what I want to do, but I’m scared he’s not thinking with the right head. “Dec, it’s just the heat of the moment. I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to do.”
He sits up, straddling me, cupping my face in his warm hands. My heart rate accelerates and when I grab his wrists I feel that his racing pulse matches mine. “Mia, I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you. You have no idea how hard it’s been to control myself, but after waiting so long—I wanted to make sure I waited for the right reasons. Last week solidified everything I thought I was feeling for you. I know you’re going to be a part of my future and I’m ready to make love to you because I love you. I’m in love with you, Mia and I know we’re young, but I’m pretty sure I want you to be my first and my last.”
What a rare breed indeed. I can’t imagine any other nineteen year old guy bearing his soul this way. How can he be so sure? Then again, I already know Declan is the only man I ever want to touch me for the rest of my life. Maybe this is what he’s been waiting for all these celibate years—the connection that the two of us can’t deny even if we wanted to.
“Declan, I love you too, baby.” I remove one of his hands from my face, kissing it tenderly, but my intentions are all but tender at the moment. “Now make love to me because I can’t wait another second for you to be inside of me.”
I expect him to be all thumbs, nervous and tense. But Declan’s got this covered; he doesn’t need any guidance from me. From the way his lips trace tiny, invigorating pecks from my shoulder to my collar bone, to the way his ample hands graze the waistline of my jeans. When he unbuttons my jeans this time there is a different type of want pooling within my depths. Knowing it will be fulfilled makes me needier than ever.
My hands crave his butter-silk skin so I lift the hem of his t-shirt, slithering my hands underneath, caressing the ridges of his sculpted abdomen. He does me the favor of removing it completely, tossing it to the side...giving me only seconds to ogle over his perfect body.
He lowers himself back on to me, crushing a denim-covered erection and his smooth bare chest on to my tingling, needy body. His kiss deepens, and when he breaks his hands and his lips free from my face, his eyes are dark with desperate longing and his hands travel to the collar of my blouse. Again, I’m surprised by his patience, because I could swear he’s ready to rip the shirt open. Instead, his skillful hands make an art form out of undoing each and every button.
My eyes never leave his face. I need to see his reaction. I want to know what he’s feeling. Is this everything he’s been waiting for? All he’s imagined it would be? He must feel the weight of my stare because after taking in the sight of my pale pink
He nibbles my ear, creating tiny goosebumps across my skin. If only it stopped there, then the ache for more wouldn’t be so painful. But it never does. Those wispy prickles always wind up traveling further down south, forcing me to clench my legs together in hopes of controlling the urge to open up and beg.
“Dec, we should stop. I know you’re not ready and those lips…” Those lips are teasing the tops of my breasts now, making me want to rip off my bra so they can be free and available for his mouth. “Oh my God, please. This isn’t fair.”
Through panting breaths, Declan whispers in my ear, “What if I told you I was ready?”
What? Did I just hear right? Should I consider this my cue to unbutton his jeans and grab the condom that has been waiting impatiently in my bedside table? Believe me, that’s what I want to do, but I’m scared he’s not thinking with the right head. “Dec, it’s just the heat of the moment. I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to do.”
He sits up, straddling me, cupping my face in his warm hands. My heart rate accelerates and when I grab his wrists I feel that his racing pulse matches mine. “Mia, I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you. You have no idea how hard it’s been to control myself, but after waiting so long—I wanted to make sure I waited for the right reasons. Last week solidified everything I thought I was feeling for you. I know you’re going to be a part of my future and I’m ready to make love to you because I love you. I’m in love with you, Mia and I know we’re young, but I’m pretty sure I want you to be my first and my last.”
What a rare breed indeed. I can’t imagine any other nineteen year old guy bearing his soul this way. How can he be so sure? Then again, I already know Declan is the only man I ever want to touch me for the rest of my life. Maybe this is what he’s been waiting for all these celibate years—the connection that the two of us can’t deny even if we wanted to.
“Declan, I love you too, baby.” I remove one of his hands from my face, kissing it tenderly, but my intentions are all but tender at the moment. “Now make love to me because I can’t wait another second for you to be inside of me.”
I expect him to be all thumbs, nervous and tense. But Declan’s got this covered; he doesn’t need any guidance from me. From the way his lips trace tiny, invigorating pecks from my shoulder to my collar bone, to the way his ample hands graze the waistline of my jeans. When he unbuttons my jeans this time there is a different type of want pooling within my depths. Knowing it will be fulfilled makes me needier than ever.
My hands crave his butter-silk skin so I lift the hem of his t-shirt, slithering my hands underneath, caressing the ridges of his sculpted abdomen. He does me the favor of removing it completely, tossing it to the side...giving me only seconds to ogle over his perfect body.
He lowers himself back on to me, crushing a denim-covered erection and his smooth bare chest on to my tingling, needy body. His kiss deepens, and when he breaks his hands and his lips free from my face, his eyes are dark with desperate longing and his hands travel to the collar of my blouse. Again, I’m surprised by his patience, because I could swear he’s ready to rip the shirt open. Instead, his skillful hands make an art form out of undoing each and every button.
My eyes never leave his face. I need to see his reaction. I want to know what he’s feeling. Is this everything he’s been waiting for? All he’s imagined it would be? He must feel the weight of my stare because after taking in the sight of my pale pink
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