At Last (8 page)

He wrote the next letter and I could sense it building, that wonderful arc toward an orgasm. “F.” I stuttered the last letter as I came. “Oh God!” I wailed, my thighs tightening on Ryan's head; I pulled his mouth from my clit and half curled in on myself. “Oh my fucking God,” I gasped.

“Well done.” He laughed, rubbing my cream from his chin. My pussy was still trembling with the aftershock.

“Ready?” he asked.

I gave a murmur of dreamy assent. He could do what he liked with me; I was somewhere in the earth's orbit. I heard the crinkle of a foil wrapper, and opened my eyes to see him smoothing on a condom. I became nervous again.

“Come here,” he said gently, pulling me into his arms, firmly beneath the weight of his body. He used his hand to guide himself to me, and I felt him press at my pussy. My body was slowly giving way to him, but this felt really weird.

“No babe, relax,” Ryan insisted, spreading my legs farther apart. He kissed me until I became used to the sensation of his dick at my entrance. I glanced down and started to panic; only the head was inside me. Even through the condom, the burning heat of him slowly opened me wider. My body started to tighten against him. I winced as he pushed a little deeper.

“It hurts, Ryan. I think you’re too big,” I said, biting on my lip. I glanced up and saw he was trying to hide a smile. “Don't you dare laugh!”

“I'm not laughing, babe.” His eyes were bright with amusement. I wriggled underneath him, trying to find a point where it didn't feel like he was tearing me. He wrapped his arms tightly around me and took slow, shallow thrusts into me, his mouth on mine, telling me how good I felt on his dick, how he'd dreamed about this, how I was going to make him come so hard...

He suddenly surged all the way inside me, using his knees to push as deep as possible until I felt the hair of his balls rubbing over my bare pussy lips.
 
I bit down on his shoulder to stop myself crying out, but my vocal cords had a mind of their own. He gave me long, deep strokes with his hips, and I gave a moan with each one, not sure if I was simply tolerating it or waiting for it to get better. I gripped him tighter as the pain began to wane a little. My thighs were really starting to ache now. Ryan turned onto his back, taking me with him.

“What are you doing?”

“Come here,” he ordered, pulling my down so my breasts were braced against his chest. “Don't make that face—you do want to be on top, trust me. Lean back a little.”

The pressure on my pussy lessened immediately. I looked down and saw blood on the condom. “Ry, I'm bleeding!”

“Hmm.” Ryan's hands were back at my bottom, his knees drawing up behind me. “You're an ex-virgin. God, your arse is something else.” He thrust upwards and grazed a spot inside me that sent a shudder through my body, so intense I thought I was going to come again right then.

“See, that’s better, isn’t it—you control how much of my dick you take.” He groaned, his hands tightly at my waist. I followed the movement of his hands and pushed down onto him, levering myself up and down, the tips of my fingers braced on his stomach. Now this felt good, I thought, my eyes closing dreamily. Really good. I circled my hips and savored the tug on my lower body.

Ryan put his arms around my waist, pulling me against his chest. “Do you need to put your arms around my waist?” I asked, disconcerted by this position.

“Yes, because you’re going to get tired, and I like this view of you.”

He pounded fiercely up into me, his arms anchoring me into his body. I started to fall apart, my pussy triggering around him. My breasts shook with the force of him fucking me; then he pressed his thumb to my clit again.

“Ry… I’m close, I'm close,” I wailed.

“You’re going to come, aren’t you? With my dick deep inside you. Yes, babe, come for me. You need to come for me, babe. Come, come now.”

I gave a wild little scream as I came, the pleasure ripping through me so unexpectedly that I visibly shook with it.

Yes,” he hissed, his dick pulsing inside me. “Uh, uh. Fuck.” He pushed into me slowly a few more times before he stayed still. I felt him softening inside me. Holy hell on a stick, I thought, quite unable to close my mouth. I got it now. I knew now why this made people go so absolutely mental.

He allowed me to slide from his lap and stick myself to his side. He wrapped an arm behind my head, breathing heavily.

“Cherry popper,” I accused. He laughed, kissing me. “Are you okay?”

I gazed at him, damp curls sticking to his forehead, his eyes bright. I wanted to say thank you, to say that I loved him, but I couldn't really form speech. It was far too hard. “Good. Good, yeah, what?”

He laughed harder as he kissed me again. “Let’s do it again. Make sure it’s really gone.”

I was totally on that plan.

* * *

I woke up and found that my whole body was having a protest against me over a tiny bit of skin I didn't need. I reached out for Ryan and found him gone. I pulled on my discarded underwear and went searching for him, finger combing my hair into a semblance of normality.

I padded into the kitchen and saw Ryan sitting at the dining table, his forearms braced on either side of a white china coffee cup, his curls falling over his forehead. He glanced up and gave me a warm smile.

“What are you doing up so early?” he asked. “It's five something stupid.”

I sat opposite him, crossing my legs nervously. I winced at the ache of closing my legs. “You give a girl a complex if you disappear in the morning.”

He sighed, his lashes floating downwards. “I couldn’t sleep, but I didn’t want to wake you. You looked really peaceful. Do you want some coffee?”

I shook my head, curling my hands around the edge of the table to stop myself from going over to touch him. I felt as if there were a ten-foot barrier between me and him, and I didn’t know where it had come from—besides the fact I was the worst lay in the world. “Why can’t you sleep?”

He cracked a grin. “Other than the fact that you snore more when you’re sober than when you’re drunk?”

“Shush!”

His smile melted from his face, and he rubbed his stubbly jawline with a broad palm. “Just feel…pretty intense.”

My heart caught in my throat. “Because of me?” I whispered.

He didn’t look at me, only moved the handle of the cup from left to right. “Lot of responsibility being a girl’s first.”

I shrugged. “It’s a way to make sure I never forget your name. But you know, for me, it was beyond amazing.”

He reached across the table, catching my hand suddenly to squeeze my fingers tightly. “You are so fucking sweet. I don’t get what I did to deserve you.”

Why did I feel like I was about to get dumped? “You think you don’t deserve me?”

“Not in the slightest.” He swept his thumb over my knuckles before releasing me.

“Why’s that then?”

He speared his hand through his hair. “You…you are Galliano talented, you sing like Skin, you’re incredibly generous…and you’ve got knockers that a man can only dream about.”

“You’re being utterly silly,” I admonished.

“But mainly, I feel like I don’t deserve you because you haven’t let any dirty old codger touch you. Except me.”

“You’re not old,” I teased, but caught on that he was weirdly upset about this. “You know why that is, though.”

He took his bottom lip into his mouth, thinking. “Yeah, I do.”

Okay, he was clearly dumping me. I shouldn’t have said anything; I knew I should have just kept it to myself. “You want to back off, don’t you?”

He looked up sharply. “Court…”

“No, no. I get it. It’s too much for a man to take. You know, the virginity thing, the other thing, you know, that ‘l’ word thing. I’d run a mile too.”

“Babe, you’re not…”

I tried to force the lump from my throat. First day of being an ex-virgin was really starting to suck. And not in a good way. “What?”

His gaze locked to mine, and my heart jolted. “You have got to have some perspective about me.”

I looked away, folding my arms around my waist. I really should have put on more clothes. I felt ridiculously exposed in my bra and pants, in the stark light, my newfound muscles protesting at any movement that wasn't tantamount to rigor mortis. “That’s a mean thing to say.”

“It’s true.”

“You’re playing this all wrong, you know,” I said, distancing myself from the possibility that he didn’t love me anymore. He was just being stupid. “I’m a girl who thinks the sun shines out of your arse. Embrace it and don’t question it.”

“You were doing the same thing!” he mocked. “From about three emails in, you were thinking that.”

Well hell on a breadstick, he knew me too well. “But I stopped, didn’t I?” I tilted my head so I was in his eye line. “Ryan, I’m starry eyed about you for good reason.”

“It’s nothing to do with you,” he started, stroking a hand over my forearm. “It’s me.”

“Oh my God. I am going to hit you!” I threatened at such utter nonsense emerging from my boyfriend’s throat.

“Don’t start with the violence. Look, everything’s working out for me, for both of us. I just want to be ready in case it goes Pete Tong.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” I warned him. “And if you ever say ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ ever again, your luck will end because you will be dead.”

He chuckled. “Okay, I’m sorry. Can you come over here?”

I circled the table and he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me down onto his lap. He sighed deeply, resting his forehead against mine. “I’m not perfect,” he told me, caution in his eyes.

“I know,” I admitted, drawing the back of my hands over his face. “I know now, anyway! We’ll be okay.”

He gripped me tighter. “Let’s go air guitar before you have to go to work.”

He carried me off into the living room, where he put on
American Anthems
, and we did air guitar like we were playing for U2. There was a point where we looked at each other while I was bellowing to Heart’s “Alone,” and it occurred to me that he had a point. Usually when things were this good, something came along to destroy it.

We got into a pretty tight routine. I would stay with him every other day, as Selene’s studio was closer to Ryan’s home. He gave me my own set of keys. I nearly had a heart attack when he did that. Wasn't that a step down from an engagement ring?! It did help that the weather turned incredible, so we would meet up with the guys and go to either one of their favourite pubs or Jay’s gigs. He was a fantastic DJ; watching people’s reaction when he dropped killer hits was sick. I loved it. Jay and I became quite good friends, I liked to think. I liked the others too—well, Rich thought I was going to throw his friend under the bus at the first opportunity, but I made the effort to prod him into talking to me.

Ryan and I would then weave our way back to his flat, and I would pretty much pounce on him. Now I’d had sex, I couldn’t get enough. I wanted him all the time. There was an evening when we were watching a film together on TV, and my hand of its own accord drifted along his thigh then underneath the hem of his t-shirt, dragging my nails along his tummy.

“If you carry on, you’re not allowed to ask me what happens at the end,” he told me lightly. I leaned closer and traced my mouth over his jawline, then slipped my hand into his jeans, feeling the heat of him against my palm.

“You’ll tell me.”

He sucked in a breath as my fingers curled around him, and I was still quite shocked to feel his dick growing instantly hard under my touch. It always surprised me that I made him react that way.

“What if I’m busy?” he asked with difficulty, his hips arching into my hand.

I gave a careless shrug. “What else are you planning on doing?”

“When did you turn into such a fucking little tease?” he hissed, and before I knew it I was on my back on the carpet with my cropped jeans flying across the living room. Ryan’s hands roved along my ribs, his mouth moving hard over mine. He leaned up suddenly and yanked one of the drawers of the coffee table onto the floor.

“There are some in my bag…” I murmured, stunned by the mess he was making. He gave a deliberate thrust of his hips into mine.

“Your bag is too far away.” He tugged his jeans and boxers down and smoothed the condom on. “Lift your hips a little for me, babe,” he commanded against my lips as he edged my panties to the side.

I felt the blunt hardness of him pressing against my pussy, before he pushed firmly and deeply into me. I couldn’t help my wince at the pressure of him inside me, as if my body didn’t want him there. But he kissed me then, both his hands on my face, running into my hair. He began to move roughly against me, rubbing my skin raw against the rug on the floor.

“Babe, your pussy feels so good,” he groaned. “You like my cock inside you? You like being fucked?”

I raised my hips even further, tightening my arms around his neck, and he hit a spot inside me that sent my body into complete spasms. “Yes, yes, I love how you fuck me.  Oh God…”

My nails dug into his neck, and I tightened my thighs around his waist, sending him deeper into me. He suddenly pulled out of me completely, leaving a shiny wet trail along my inner thigh. God, I was so wet. He yanked my panties along my legs, then tugged my thighs along his torso, my calves over his shoulders. He plunged into me, and within three punches of his hips, I came really hard, shaking as I wailed, drenching him in my cream. As I was coming he moved faster, and the sound that was ripped from him vibrated through my legs as he pressed into me, holding my hips against him. After a few minutes, he eased my trembling limbs from his shoulders and pulled me onto his lap.

I gave him several long kisses. “Much better than some independent film.”

He arched his eyebrows. “Well, you’re not coming for film night again.”

I realised something. “That was my first quickie!”

Ryan rubbed his forehead against my cheek. “I’ve taught you well if you appreciate speed.”

“No, you’re just lucky.”

And he looked after me! How lovely it was being kissed in the morning with a cup of tea and near burnt toast (that’s how I like it), or being picked up from work to go to dinner or just stay at his flat. He wasn’t due to start his apprenticeship with Robert Matthews for another week, so he was just adding to his portfolio with random photographs. I had to talk him out of taking them of me. I told him that I didn’t want to have pictures of me without any clothes on landing on the Internet.

He gave me a look over the viewer of the camera and grinned. “How would you know?”

That scared me, enough to want to wait to meet his parents, who apparently returned to London eager to see who was keeping their son so occupied. “Chicken,” Ryan taunted as he got ready to meet them for dinner.

“It's for your own good. I don't want them to tell you that you're punching above your weight with me.”

He leaned down to give me a brief kiss. “Too late.”

I was really careful about broadcasting just how happy I was. Chris’ vitriolic demand had put me on edge. The first Sunday in three weeks that I was at home, and not recovering from a night partying with Ryan and the guys, Mum and I sat on my bed watching
27 Dresses
together.

“Are you and Ryan very serious then?”

James Marsden has the best smile, and distractedly I said, “Serious enough. He’s my boyfriend.”

She nudged me. “Are you in love?”

“I love chocolate,” I dismissed her, not wanting her to get overexcited and buy a hat for the wedding she’d planned in the last twenty minutes in her mind. Something crossed my own mind; it wasn’t something I’d ever even thought about. Well, I would have had to have been in a relationship to do so.

“Mum?”

“Yes, Courtney?”

“Do you mind? Me going out with Ryan?”

“Of course not! What a silly thing to say. You could be at home more, but if he makes you happy…”

“He does,” I said with a half-smile. “Really happy.”

“Then that’s all that matters.”

“And you don’t mind that he’s…”

“White? No. Why would I? Your surname is Phillips—you don’t think you’ve got some white floating in you somewhere?”

I told myself off for the extremely dirty thought that hit my mind, and shrugged. “I know, but Andie’s parents were really odd when she started seeing her first boyfriend.”

“It wasn’t because he was white,” my mum mocked, “it was because he was a chav.”

I laughed. “Okay!” I cuddled into her. “Thank you.”

The next big hurdle was Andie and Summer. We hadn’t at all been great since the whole Summer/Iain debacle, more so now that the two were a proper couple. I called Andie first, only to hear, “What da fuck, man! What's wrong with you? Hello?”

“Who are you swearing at?”

“Some fool who tried to run me over, innit? Y’all right?”

I felt tears prickle my eyes. Andie was such a hard nut on the outside, but she was all bloody marshmallow. She’d never admit it though. “I miss you.”

She paused. “Yeah?”

“I could have done with your advice.”

“What for?”

“Sex.”

“What?!” she fairly screamed. “You’ve been penetrated?”

“Andie!” I said, disgusted.

“Boy! I thought Jesus would come back to earth before that happened. How was it? Did you have fun?”

“I found out I still had a hymen. Who knew? But Ryan made it all romantic, and he made sure I was comfortable and relaxed and…as far as the horror stories of a girl’s first time goes, it was pretty sweet.”

“Rah, Court, man. Good for you, yeah? I’m glad you waited for someone you love. Makes all the difference. Not like that cunt-o-phile Pedro. Soon as he took off the condom, zoom, boy was on next pussy like he was about to die!”

I laughed so hard my stomach hurt. “Do you want to come out for a drink? After work—I know you’re busy.”

“Nah, I can come.” She hesitated. “What about Summer?”

“I’m going to ask her to come too.”

“All right,” she drew out. “We’ll see, yeah? Look, I gotta jet. I’ll see you in where?”

“Usual! Down south, baby!”

Andie laughed. “Done! Court?”

“Yep?”

“Missed you too.”

Buoyed by such a reception, I called Summer, only for Iain to answer her phone. “Hey little mate, you all right?”

“Where’s your woman?”

“Bringing me a beer. We’re at the local. Can you come after work?”

“I was going to with Andie.”

He halted. I loved Iain, but Andie would have broken him in half in about ten seconds. “Really? Are you guys friends?”

“We’ve been friends since…since conception,” I stated, using Ryan’s words. “So we need to sort it out.”

“Isn’t it your boss’s party thing tonight?”

Oh yes! Selene had a refit of the entire Bond Street store, and there were going to be paparazzi and free champagne, then we were going to this super swanky, super exclusive club afterwards. Ryan was going to meet me with Jay and the other boys at the club. In case things worked out, I had added Summer, Iain and Andie to the list.

“Yeah, but I want you all there, and talking to one another, so… I wanted to get it over with.”

“Okay, well here’s Summer.”

“Courtney! Has Ryan deflowered you yet?”

“A million times over,” I said dryly. “Can you stay in the pub? I’m coming down with Andie. I really want us to talk.”

“Wait, I want to talk about the sex thing!”

“It hurt, then it didn’t hurt, then it was bloody fantastic, I still ache now thinking about it and I love him to bits. K?”

Summer chuckled. “Trust you to not take it seriously.”

“I made it very serious for a very long time, and now I don’t need to. All the mystery goes when your boyfriend doesn’t tie the condom properly and you step on it in the morning.”

“And you’re being careful.” She sighed happily. “My little girl’s all grown up. Come to the pub. I promise Andie and I will make nice.”

I got to the pub first—our favourite pub, right on the Thames—and saw that Summer had banished Iain and was perched in a booth. She had on a floral dress and cowboy boots. Summer was tall enough and Kate Moss enough to pull off that look, her dark blonde hair rippling down her back. She saw me and gave a squeal of delight. “Are you okay? Do you want something to sit on?”

“Shut up!” I admonished, accepting her hug warmly.

Andie walked in about twenty minutes later in denim shorts and a silky green top. Andie was sporting a high ponytail, most of it bought from our local Afro hair shop, but it worked for her. Andie gave Summer a wary look, her hazel eyes narrowing in her creamy walnut face. “You all right? Any other men you want to take from behind my back?”

“How about David Hale?” Summer teased, knowing Andie was obsessed with the boxer.

“You touch him, bitch, and you die—I ain’t even lyin’.”

Summer giggled, then got to her feet and hugged her. “I’m sorry,” Summer whispered. “But I love him.”

“You’re lucky he’s too tall and too fucking skinny. Like Skreech from…”

“
Saved by the Bell
!” we all shrieked.