A soft laugh escapes her lips.
“I thought you were a pro at this,” she winks. “Daddy.”
“You just feel so fucking tight,” I tell her.
“Don’t stop,” she whispers.
I couldn’t even if I wanted to.
I make love to Mallory, sweetly and perfectly in the little playroom I selected. I kiss her, grinding into her, passionately worshipping her body with my own. When I come, it’s an explosion of everything that’s happened over the last few days, and I feel like I’m going to fucking pass out from the pleasure.
I roll off of her, throw away the condom, and come back. I reach for her, pulling her close to myself, and I kiss her on the forehead.
“Mallory,” I tell her. “That was...perfect.”
“I think so, too,” she whispers. She snuggles up against me, tracing her fingers over me. I have a million thoughts racing around in my head, and I’m not quite sure how to sort them out. Being with Mallory was...comfortable. It was sweeter than I expected it to be, and more gentle. It was lovely, honestly. Being with her felt like coming home, especially after so many years of knowing her.
I’ve been with my share of women, but none of them comes close to comparing to her.
Everything about her is just...lovely.
I know that Mallory has been through a lot. I know she’s been stressed and anxious and I know she’s got her own demons that she’s fighting, but oh, I’m so very happy that I had this time to spend with her today. I’m glad we reconnected. I just hope that I’m able to show her that I’m worth her time, and worth her attention, and worth her love.
Because I want more.
I want so much more of her.
“Aaron?” She asks.
“Yes, princess?”
“I...I need to tell you something.”
Something in her voice catches my attention. I can’t quite pinpoint what it is about her tone, but she sounds just the slightest bit nervous and worried. What could she have to tell me?
“Okay,” I say, rolling onto my side so we’re looking at each other face-to-face. Fuck, if she isn’t the prettiest damn women in the world. She’s so lovely, even now. She looks well-spanked and well-fucked and well-loved.
I just hope that it’s true.
I hope she feels the way about all of this that I do.
“What is it?” I ask her gently.
“I’m not sure how to tell you this,” she whispers.
“Then just tell me.” I smile at her. I don’t think she’s going to tell me that she has a boyfriend or a girlfriend or a secret life. I don’t get the feeling that she’s going to tell me she secretly has a kid or something like that. If anything, maybe she’ll tell me that she loves me, or that she wants to be with me, or something like that.
“That was my first time,” she blurts out all at once, and then she covers her mouth quickly, as though she can’t believe she just said it.
I stare at her for a minute. My mind can’t quite seem to reconcile what she just said. Her first time?
“Your first time...at a sex club?”
“No.”
“Your first time...with a man?” I ask, shaking my head.
“My first time ever. I’ve never had sex before. That...that was my first time. I gave you my virginity.”