Roommate's Virgin

“I was scared you would leave me.”

“Because you dealt drugs?”

“No, because admitting I dealt drugs would prove once and for all that I was beneath you. Remember how things were at the beginning… you yourself told me that our lifestyles were too different to work together. I was scared that you would go back to that conclusion.”

I did remember that conversation. I remembered all the parties that Devlin used to host every week. It had been his way of relaxing and letting go of the stress of his life. But as I recall, I couldn’t remember the last time he had hosted a party.

“You stopped partying,” I said, mostly to myself.

“What?”

“The parties,” I repeated. “You stopped having them.”

“Oh… well yes.”

“Because of me?”

“Well yes,” Devlin nodded. “But not because you forced me too. It was just that after I met you, I realized I didn’t need the parties anymore. I wasn’t actually enjoying myself as much as I did when I was with you. I had everything I wanted already… that is before I screwed it all up and lost you.”

“You know what,” I said. “I’m not really hungry at all.”

I saw Devlin’s expression fall and I knew what he was thinking.

“Let’s go back to my apartment,” I said.

Devlin’s eyebrows rose, and he stared at me for a moment. “Are you… sure?”

“Yes,” I nodded. “Come on.”

This time I took his hand and dragged him out of the restaurant. We didn’t talk much on the ten-minute walk back to the apartment, but I could feel the expectation and the uncertainty build up between us. We got to the door, and I opened it and walked in with Devlin following close behind me. This time, he seemed nervous, but I was surprisingly calm.

“You can close the door,” I told him.

Devlin turned and closed the door. He turned to me slowly, and I could see on his face that he was unsure what I wanted from this.

“Come closer,” I said.

Again, he did what I wanted wordlessly. I reached up behind my back and unzipped the dress, letting it fall to the ground around my feet. I saw Devlin’s eyes flicker over my body and I knew he wanted me… as much as I wanted him. I unhooked my bra and pulled it off. I saw Devlin’s intake of breath, and I felt a curious sense of power flood through me. I pulled off my panties and kicked them away.

This time, Devlin didn’t need my command. He walked over, grabbed me by the hips and pulled me towards him. His lips hit mine at the same time, and instantly we were locked in a passionate embrace that was filled with the heat and urgency of absence.

I clawed at him, trying to peel away the layers of fabric that separated us. I felt his buttons pop as I tore at his shirt to reve

al the hard wall of muscle underneath. Then I fumbled with his belt buckle, as one hand stroked his erection. He barely got his pants off before he swung me around, bent me over the sofa top and pushed inside me with one swift move. I was so wet that he slid inside me easily and I gasped out in unrepentant pleasure.

He fucked me hard, with his hands wrapped around my body, cupping my breasts and anchoring me to his body. I could hear the slap of flesh on flesh every time he slammed into me, and it sounded like music… a different kind of music but music all the same. I could feel his orgasm come slowly, but he forced himself into a slower pace until he had prevented its coming.

Then he turned me around, pushed me back against the couch and fell on top of me. I let my hands run down his cool, smooth chest and I realized how much I had missed this… and how much I had longed for it on all those lonely nights I’d spent on Seth’s couch. But this was not all I craved. It wasn’t all about sex. Sex was just the best way in which I could express the depth of my feeling for Devlin. It was everything… and I knew now I couldn’t live without him.

We came together and afterward, with my head resting comfortably on Devlin’s chest, I breathed him in and sighed in relief.

“That painting you created of me… it really was beautiful,” I said, kissing his chest. “I wish I could see it every day.”

“You can,” Devlin said surprisingly.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I bought the painting,” Devlin told me. “It’s mine.”