“You love me?” I asked, needing to hear him say the words again.
And he did. Over and over again until my heart was full of the love he was proclaiming.
That’s when I launched myself at him and told him my truth.
I loved him, too.
I’d loved him for half of my life.
And I knew I would love him for the rest of it.
I might have only been sixteen, but I knew that, for the rest of my life, however long or short that would end up being, I would never love anyone else the way I loved Jeremy.
THAT NIGHT, WHEN I was lying in bed, I replayed Jeremy’s words repeatedly in my head. Anxiety began to set in low in my belly as I wondered just how things were going to change. If they even were. I had no idea what expectations he might have had now that we’d both admitted we were in love. I loved Jeremy, but I wasn’t ready to push our physical relationship forward. At least, not yet.
At the same time, I didn’t want to disappoint him. What if he wanted more? What if I wasn’t good at it? What if it made him want someone else?
I chastised myself for that last thought. Jeremy wasn’t like that. He loved me, and he was mine. I would be enough for him. I had to be.
And I was right. Nothing in our relationship changed except that we both found great joy in saying, “I love you.” It was my new favorite phrase. It’d been two weeks since he’d dropped the L-bomb on me, and I was still basking in it.
I was also getting a little impatient, wondering why Jeremy hadn’t even tried making a move. Jenna gave me unsolicited details of what she and Chris did, and they caused me to blush. The last time, she had told me about some trick she’d learned in a magazine. She’d looked at me pensively then apologized because she refused to ever hear about the things I did with her brother. I wouldn’t have had much to say, to be honest. Sure, we still made out all the time, but at that point, Jeremy’s hand had only errantly grazed my boob, having gone nowhere my pants. We’d been stuck on first base for far too long. And I’d found I wanted to change that sooner rather than later.
Now that he’d crawled through the window and was in my bed, it was time. His fingers toyed with my waistband, and I squirmed because I wanted him to touch me. I wanted to get to whatever base that was, and I wanted to touch him, too.
He wasted no time bringing his lips to mine. His kisses were more passionate than ever before. He was so determined, whispering promises of how good he wanted to make me feel as he peppered kisses along my jawline while his hand slipped underneath my T-shirt and caressed my bare skin.
My back arched and his hand rose while his lips captured mine again. Jeremy’s kiss was demanding, his mouth hungrily moving over mine. It was overwhelming, intense, and I wanted it to last forever. I also wanted more, and I was finally going to take it.
It’d started as every other night, but as our kisses turned feverish, I knew things were about to change. My hand came up to his, and he tried to pull away. I stopped him, and with my thumb and forefinger, I unbutton my jeans and pushed his hand down.
“Sierra?” he asked, sounding hesitant and unsure.
“Touch me, Jeremy. Please.”
As worked up as I was, I couldn’t help the nerves that fluttered as our hands gravitated towards each other. We’d been dancing around this, inching closer and closer to the physical point of no return, but until now, we’d always stopped before taking the plunge. No longer. Finally, we were on the cusp and there was no turning back. Not that I wanted to.
Sure, I’d gotten myself off with my hand before—Jeremy’d been onto something with that whole mouse-clicking thing. Not that I’d ever admit it to him.
But this was going to be different. Jeremy was going to touch me in the most intimate of places. And, in turn, I’d do the same for him.
His fingers descended, and my heart raced liked a drag car barreling down the track, reckless, wild, and without abandon. Yet, somehow, with absolute confidence in the speed at which I was going. My breathing turned rapid as they slid inside my panties. Then it caught as his thumb, for the first time, grazed my clit. My hips arched reflexively, forcing his thumb to press harder. Tingling between my legs ignited, spreading pleasurable sensations throughout my body like wildfire. Only this was one inferno whose flames I’d never wish to be doused.
“Sierra,” he whispered. The awe in his voice was nearly my undoing.
My eyes fluttered open to see him gazing down at me. Awe was apparent in his eyes. As was his desire.
I sucked my bottom lip in then reached my own hand out, cupping his length. His extremely rock-hard length. My eyes didn’t move down, but I touched him—tentatively at first. No turning back now.
My fingers made their exploration, slipping inside his shorts and finding the evidence of his arousal. He was achingly rigid, sinewy, and smooth all at the same time. A sweet contradiction of hard male heat and silken flesh. It was nothing like I’d imagined.
His eyes closed as his fingers made their way down, exploring me and taking in all I had to offer. They glided with ease until he was teasing my entrance, his fingers already slick with the evidence of my arousal. I’d read about women getting wet, but I’d had no idea it could happen so quickly.
I watched with fascination as his Adam’s apple bobbed once, then twice, as my hand began to move, familiarizing itself with him. It was my turn to be in awe. The way it twitched, grew, and jerked as I stroked him up and down, slowly at first.
“God, that’s amazing,” he groaned as my thumb skimmed the silky head of him.
A small gasp escaped me at the presence of sticky liquid I’d assumed was pre-cum. God, had I done that to him? Already?
His eyes opened, revealing a swirling storm of desire, heat, and pained restraint.
“Fuck, you feel good.”
My hips immediately arched towards his exploring fingers while my own hand matched his fluid movements. With each stroke, I was rewarded with the hard pulse of his arousal.
I knew mine mirrored his. Every nerve ending in my body was on fire. Our fingers moved in tandem, a perfect rhythm of exploration. The entire time his eyes held mine. It wasn’t long until we were both panting, both so close to the edge, both not wanting this to end. The tingling between my thighs was more intense than anything I’d ever felt before, and as my orgasm rose, I knew I’d never be the same again.
Jeremy had taken me to new heights, soared with me, and then we both went barreling over the edge.
The crash was so damn good.
Then I saw brilliant stars exploding in my vision.
I’d never be able to describe that feeling. The sensation was intense, overwhelming, and I was electrified. My blood was liquid gas setting me aflame. I’d never known I could feel this alive, this satisfied, this desired.
It was the most incredible experience in my life, and I wouldn’t have wanted it to be with anyone other than Jeremy Banks.
Our mutual pleasuring hadn’t lasted long, but when we were done, I didn’t feel shy or regretful. I felt amazing. I felt confident. And I wanted to see Jeremy up close. So I turned my bedside lamp on and took a long, hard look.
It wasn’t, of course, the first time I’d seen a penis, but it was the first time I’d seen one up close. It was…interesting. Big and thick, and even though he’d just come, he was still hard. After our blissful interaction, I took my time studying it up close.
“Have you ever measured it?” I blurted.
His face reddened. That gave me my answer.
“Well? How many inches, Jeremy?”
He refused to tell me, so what did I do?
I found a ruler.
When I returned, he made me wait until he was hard again. That didn’t take too long once I started stroking him again.