I tugged his hair. “I want this. You don’t need to go slow.”
“Yes I do. Let me savor this. It’ll hurt less if you’re wet and ready.”
“I am ready.” I couldn’t breathe fast enough. I only wanted to feel as close as possible to him. “It didn’t hurt that bad,” I lied.
He stood, tilting my head up by my chin. “Being your first means everything to me. I haven’t just dreamed about it, Lake. I’ve had nightmares about it.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” I said.
“I’ve hated myself for how badly I’ve wanted you.” He tucked my hair behind my ear, then slid his hands down my back, pulling me flush against him. “You were always the last person I should be fantasizing about. You were too young, and then you were too pure, and then you were gone. All those times I was tempted, I thought . . .”
He trailed off as he scanned my face. My nipples were already hard in my bra, but as his gaze darkened, they tingled. He had to know he had nothing to hate himself for. I stepped out of his embrace and pulled my sweater over my head. I wanted to press myself against his naked chest. I was nearly bared to him, my panties clinging to my pubic bone with his saliva, but I still didn’t know how to act or ask for what I wanted.
“You thought what?” I prompted.
“I thought it’d kill me to say no to you, but I did, and here I am.”
Early morning sun glowed through the windows, lightening the white walls. Now that we’d slowed down, I had time to think about what we were doing. The countless times I’d imagined sex with Manning, I never thought I’d be this nervous.
Manning set his dark eyes on me, and there was so much behind them, I couldn’t help asking, “Are you having second thoughts?”
“Not even close. I’m just having thoughts.”
“Like?”
He stuck his fingers under the straps of my bra and slid them down my shoulders. “Turn.”
I faced the bed. He pressed a wet kiss on one shoulder, running his mouth up the line of my neck. My hair stood on end. I closed my eyes to savor the brush of his knuckles over my back as he unhooked the clasp of my bra. I caught it before it fell off.
He put one arm around my stomach and pulled my back to his front. “It’s okay,” he said, gripping the bra between the cups and taking it from me.
He hummed against my skin and took my breasts in his hands. His long fingers met in the middle as he squeezed me to him harder, rolling his hips into my backside.
“I’m thinking about how I’ve dreamed . . .” he murmured. “And fantasized . . . of having this. How I’ve tortured myself over not having this.”
The fear in his voice calmed me a little. This wasn’t just a big deal to me. I put my hands over his, my insides tightening with the way his palms scraped my bare, sensitive skin.
“Let me see you,” he said.
I turned hesitantly, my face warming, my eyes on our bare feet. I remembered the night I’d stripped for him in the lake, me and him in the moonlight. I’d been young and foolish around Manning too many times to be that confident now. He stood there staring until he said, “You’re shaking.”
It wasn’t only that winter had seeped into all corners of my room, or that this would change everything for me. I couldn’t imagine a life in which I didn’t give myself to Manning, and at the same time, I couldn’t believe it was really happening. “Have you ever done this before?” I fought against the urge to pull my hair over my shoulders, the only means left to cover myself. “I mean taken someone’s virginity. Obviously it’s not your first time having sex.”
“It might as well be. Nothing’s ever mattered to me as much as this.”
“Nothing?” I asked. His words made me courageous, so I touched his chest. “Not your wedding day? Or the day your sister was born?”
He moved my hand over his heart. “Nothing. And no,” he added. “I haven’t done this before.”
I wanted to touch him more, but his other hand moved between my legs, stealing my focus. I swallowed up at the ceiling, my lids falling closed as his fingers firmed through the thin material of my underwear. I grabbed onto one of his shoulders, hanging on to him.
When I opened my eyes, he was watching me. “I can’t believe I’ll be your first,” he said. “And your only.”
“My only,” I repeated, still getting used to the idea. Not that I’d ever thought of anyone else that way, but I doubted any of this would seem real for a while.