Back and forth.

Up and down.

The cotton grows damp. Damper. She’s whimpering. I sneak a finger beneath the fabric, encountering a thin tangle of pubic hair. I slide my finger in farther, until I discover creamy wet heat.

Found my prize. And fuck me, she’s so hot. Molten. And soft. I slide my finger through her folds as I kiss her with everything I’ve got. I stroke and rub, pressing against her clit, making her gasp. Making her reach for me, her hand settling over my erection, fingers curling around it.

Her hand on me, even through my jeans, is enough to make my eyes cross.

We shed our clothes quickly, until we’re both naked and tangled up in each other. She instructs me on where the condoms are and I grab one, grateful for that goody bag from the bachelorette party as I roll the condom on my cock. She watches, her gaze drinking me hungrily and she pulls me over her. I’m poised and ready to sink into her welcoming body, my hands braced on the mattress above her head, her dark hair spilling all over the pillow.

I stare at her, my gaze roving, unsure of where to settle first as I take her all in. How beautiful she is, and how lucky I am.

“You sure about this?” I ask, my voice gruff.

She frowns, her delicate brows drawing together. “What do you mean?”

“You sure about us—this—having sex?”

What the fuck am I doing? I’m not one to have second thoughts, and I am definitely not having those, no way. But I don’t want her to regret this moment. I don’t want her thinking we moved too soon and have her end up running away from me.

I have a feeling once we do this, I’m never going to want to stop.

Sixteen

Amelia

Oh my God, he’s the sweetest. Is he really asking me if I want to stop? He’s suited up and ready to dive inside, so to speak. How could I tell him to stop now?

I suppose I could. It’s my every right. I’m not obligated to let him into my body. And I’m touched he’s respecting my feelings right now. This is a momentous occasion. I haven’t had sex in a while. This is kind of…

Weird.

But in a good way.

A very, very good way.

“I just don’t want you to regret this,” he continues when I haven’t said anything.

I glance up at him to see there’s sweat forming on his brow. He’s frowning, and the muscles are straining in his arms and shoulders. Fascinated, I reach up and trace his biceps. The curve of his shoulder. His skin is smooth. Hot. The muscles beneath firm. Joe wasn’t this muscular.

Joe is the only guy I’ve ever been with. Isaac will only be my second.

“I won’t regret this,” I tell him, my fingers still exploring.

“You’re not going to bail on me afterward? Never see me again?” He sounds genuinely stressed out.