Scored (V-Card Diaries 1)

Something moves behind his eyes, a feeling I can’t name, but that makes my heart beat faster as he says in a husky voice, “Don’t thank me, Feisty. You’re one of the best of us. And you were always going to be who you are, with or without my help. You should be so proud. I know I am.”

Tears pressing against the backs of my eyes, I confess my last secret, the one I have a feeling he already knows. Because he knows me. Really knows me, nearly as well as I know myself. “I love you.”

His throat works and his body tenses against mine. For a moment, I think he’s going to pull away, but instead he says, “I love you, too.”

Willing my soaring heart to keep its feet on the ground, I add in a softer voice, “And not just as a friend.”

His lips curve. “Yeah, I figured, since you’re grinding on my cock and all.”

“I’m not…” I trail off as I realize I am grinding on his cock and will my hips to still and sink into the mattress.

“Don’t stop,” he says, a smile in his kiss as he murmurs against my mouth, “I like feeling how much you want this, want me.” He deepens the kiss, his tongue stroking against mine as his warm hand slips beneath my sweater, just the feel of his fingers molding to my ribs enough to make it hard to breathe. “And I like knowing this isn’t casual for you, either. It sure as hell isn’t for me.”

I shiver against him, my nipples so tight it’s painful. “I need you to touch me,” I say, arching into the hand lingering beneath my breast.

“Here?” he asks, brushing his fingers over my nipple through the satin of my bra, making my pulse leap and my hips rock against his erection again.

“Everywhere,” I say, tugging at the bottom of his shirt. “And I need you naked. Five minutes ago.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he rumbles against my mouth before pulling back just long enough to jerk his shirt over his head, revealing the perfection of his chest.

But I want more than his chest. I want all of him, every gorgeous inch bared to my hungry gaze.

I reach for the close of his pants, but his hands are already there. Our fingers tangle as we battle for the privilege of popping that top button. He lets me win, watching as I drag his zipper down and curl my fingers around the top of his jeans and the boxer briefs beneath.

Taking a bracing breath, I pull the fabric toward me and then push it down, freeing the hot, heavy length of him. His cock is so thick I can barely fit my fingers around him as I stroke him tentatively up and down, but it’s the length that’s truly intimidating. As he rolls to lie beside me, kicking off his shoes and shoving the rest of his clothes off and onto the floor, I have several uninterrupted seconds to study his erection again, long enough to cool the lust galloping through my blood.

When he turns back to me, I’m pretty sure I look like I’ve seen a ghost.

He arches a brow and glances down at my torso, where I’ve crossed my arms protectively over my breasts. “Everything okay?”

I gulp and shake my head. “Um, I’m concerned… Uh, worried—” I break off with a rush of breath and jab a finger toward his lower half. “That’s not going to be an easy fit, is it?”

He grins. “It’ll be fine.”

“Don’t patronize me,” I order. “I’m inexperienced, not stupid. I’ve watched porn and I know not even the big ones are usually that big. That’s an outlier.”

“My cock?” he clarifies with an arched brow. “My cock is an outlier?”

I nod. “Yes. Or possibly a mutation. Have you looked into that? Consulted any of your doctors? Had them study your DNA to make sure it isn’t compromised in some way?”

He rolls onto his side, propping up on one arm as he continues to study me with a bemused expression. “It’s not a mutation. It’s not even the biggest dick in the average locker room. And we aren’t going to have any problems with fit.”

“Why’s that?” I ask, torn between relaxing into the feel of his fingers squeezing my hip and the panicked voice of my vagina, insisting she’s too young to die.

He leans closer, brushing his lips over mine before his says, “Because I’m going to make you come so hard, make you so damned wet, that I’ll sink into you like a hot knife through butter.”

“You realize comparing your cock to a knife isn’t comforting, right?” But my arms are already around his neck and my skin hungry for more of his touch.

“A finger through butter?” he says as he pulls my sweater over my head and rolls back on top of me.