Surrender (8 page)

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Authors: Violetta Rand

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Women, #New Adult, #Erotica, #General

BOOK: Surrender
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Opening her eyes, she gazes at me. There’s a fierce and urgent look on her face. I take her by the shoulders and pull her hard against me. She moans, clinging to me. I cup the back of her head and ease her down. My mouth muffles her cries, and she slips her tongue inside mine. I love how she tastes. I love the scent of her subtle perfume. She writhes wildly underneath me and I urge her legs wider apart.
Fuck . . .
She’s wet. I can feel liquid heat through her thin linen pants. I close my eyes, envisioning her tiny snatch.

I do to her mouth what my crotch wants to do between her legs. My tongue thrusts deeper and deeper. I feel her melt into me. There’s no end to what responses she elicits from my body. Desire spirals down my spine. I drag my teeth across her neck and I feel the jolt of her pleasure. I do it again just for the thrill of feeling her convulse.

“Please . . . no,” she whimpers.

I suckle her earlobe, raking my fingernails up her neck. Her mouth falls open and I jam my tongue between her lips again. She reaches between my legs and cups my balls. I’m on the verge of exploding. My body is burning up. I want to rip her clothes off and fuck her all night long. But not in this confined space.

“Robyn . . .” She’s lost in the moment. “Robyn,” I call more aggressively.

She lifts her head and looks at me. “What’s wrong?”

“Hotel room or your apartment. Pick. Now.” If she doesn’t, I’ll make the choice for her.

“My apartment . . .” Her eyes are half-closed.

“Robyn,” I say. “Protection . . . condoms . . . the pill?”

She stares at me long and hard. “I’m on the pill and get tested every six months for STDs through a program at the club.”

“I have a medical card in my wallet. Wanna see it?”

She shakes her head. “Drive . . .”

We make it back to Corpus in record time. I park in the space in front of her apartment and kill the engine. We exchange glances. I know she’s afraid, but I’ll never disappoint her. Never. Since that first night at the beach, I’ve felt an instant connection with her. There’s something about her—as if she has an old soul like mine. But a very sad one. She digs her keys out of her purse and hands them to me. Her hands are shaking. I get out of the truck. She waits for me to open her door. When I do, she doesn’t move at first. She’s battling her conscience, mentally suspended between pleasure and fear. I extend my hand.

Wide blue eyes rimmed with tears gaze up at me. I bang my head against the door frame. I lose it when women cry. It kills me to see tears in Robyn’s eyes. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Nothing.” That’s all she’s going to give me; I know it.

I won’t press the issue. I help her down and escort her to the front porch. She points to the right key on her chain and I unlock the front door.

“Please come inside.” I can’t believe she’s inviting me to stay.

I nod and follow her. There’s a nightlight on in the hallway. We lean against opposite walls and stare at each other. Wordlessly, her mouth opens and closes. I know what she wants to say. Unexpectedly, she surges forward and throws her arms around my neck. I’m immovable for a long moment. I’m not sure I want to do this again. If she doesn’t follow through this time, I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself.

She’s still clinging to me. I can feel the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. “Robyn. You’re killing me.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m afraid . . . I’ve never . . . felt this way before.”

I tip her chin and look her directly in the eyes. “I don’t play games. I don’t share. I don’t cheat. And I don’t do anything half-ass.”

That makes her laugh.

“I’m going to kiss you, Robyn.” Before she can react, I lean down and capture her mouth. She tastes so sweet.

It’s passionate, and my hands instinctively cup her ass. She nestles into me and I lift her. She wraps her legs around my waist and grinds her crotch against me. Our kiss intensifies and we’re doing circles down the hallway, hitting the walls as we go. Between moans I manage to break away and ask, “Where’s the bedroom?”

“Upstairs,” she barely manages to answer. I cover her mouth with mine, sucking the air out of her lungs.

I carry her upstairs. There’s another nightlight on. I lay her across the bed and she stares while I undress. I throw my shirt on the floor. Next, I remove my boots and take off my pants and socks. I’m standing in black boxer briefs.

She hasn’t moved an inch. I smile, approach the bed, then sit down. “Come here, Robyn.” I make her stand between my legs. At first she’s facing me, but I turn her so I can see her profile.

She’s hot as Hades. And she’s about to be mine. I slowly run my fingertips between her breasts and downward. She’s shaking—whimpering louder and louder. I love to hear those noises. I sweep her hair aside and untie her blouse. It falls away. Her breasts are firm and round and her dark nipples are begging to be sucked.
Not yet.
I focus all my attention on that perfect ass. The one I fell in love with after she wiggled it in my face two nights in a row. I flip her around so her backside is facing me. I reach around her hips with both hands and unbutton her slacks. The material is nearly as delicate as tissue paper. I help her slide out of them and am pleased to discover she’s not wearing any panties.

I pull her onto my lap and cup her breasts. My cock is begging to come out and play. My hand slides underneath her ass and I find paradise. I insert a finger inside her slit. She’s so unbelievably slick and wet. I love how tight she is. My finger glides in and out while she gyrates on my lap—teasing me until I can’t wait anymore. I withdraw my hand. “Come here . . .” I nudge her off my lap.

She stands, then turns to face me. Giving me a seductive look, she kneels in front of me and pulls my underwear down to my ankles. I step out of them. Thinking she’s going to stand back up, my knees buckle when she takes me in her mouth.
Holy shit.
Something I never expected her to do. She’s stroking me with both hands while she sucks me into her mouth inch by blessed inch. If I let her do it too much longer I’m going to come in her mouth. I grit my teeth. She has to stop
, now.
I cup her face and she looks up. “Bring those sweet lips up here so I can kiss them.”

She’s beautiful—that face, those breasts, that perfectly trimmed little wet snatch, her ass. I grab two handfuls. I’m done waiting. I gently push her onto the bed. She lies down and spreads her legs.

“Garrick . . . there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Shhh.” There are no words to describe what she’s doing to me. I crawl on top of her, positioning myself between her thighs. We lock gazes. I lick my lips in anticipation and nuzzle the left side of her neck. “I want you . . .”

I feel her whole body decompress as I rub my cock across her slit so we’re both wet. She’s as relaxed as she’s going to get. I thrust inside her a few inches, then stop. I feel resistance,
 
and she screams.
What the fuck . . .
“Robyn?” I can’t move until I know she’s all right. I look down.

She frames my face between both hands. “It’s okay . . . I want this more than anything.”

I’m not convinced. She’s a virgin. A
virgin.
It hasn’t sunk in yet. I’m an asshole again. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I’m losing it and it’s pissing me off.

“I tried to . . .” She starts kissing me all over. My cheeks, my eyelids, and the tip of my nose. “Please, Garrick.” She brushes a feathery kiss across my lips. I groan. It’s working. I can’t resist her touch. She kisses me again, delicately licking my bottom lip.

I capture her tongue with my teeth and growl. Her touch has restorative powers and I’m hard as a steel rod in seconds. Her hips buck and I bury myself inside her. She squirms and moans, and I give her what we both want—both need. After three days and nights of painful denial I can’t control it anymore. I feel her body tense. I pull out halfway and jam myself back in. Again and again until I feel the pulse of her climax—and I explode inside her.

We fall, exhausted and sated. My mind is working overtime, though. How could a girl as gorgeous as Robyn have been a virgin? I’m not disappointed . . . she’s mine now. Especially now. But I’m afraid there’s more to this story.

I’m awake just as the predawn light starts to filter through my lace curtains. I look left; Garrick is asleep. There’s a peaceful look on his face. I stare at the ceiling, folding my arms above my head. Last night blew my mind. And I know he’ll want answers. I’m afraid he’ll hate me. A virgin who knows how to give head is a novelty, and not necessarily a good one. I climb out of bed and look down at the sheet. There’s blood. I don’t want him to see it, but I can’t do anything about it until he wakes up. I tiptoe to the bathroom and close the door three-quarters of the way before I turn on the light. We slept through the night, so I’m sticky from our sex. There are traces of blood between my thighs.

I grab a washcloth from the closet and run it under warm water. I wash the evidence of my virginity away, glad this part of my first experience is over. Next, I wash my face and brush my teeth. My long hair is a tangled mess. I remove the clips and run a comb through it. I stare at myself in the mirror. It’s too early to stay awake. I yawn and flip the light off. I slip back into bed, trying to get comfortable. I turn my back to Garrick, scrunched in fetal position. I can’t get comfortable. I’m worried. Really worried. I’ve waited all my life to meet the right man. Garrick exceeds all my hopes. He’s funny, honest, outrageously handsome, generous, and gentle. I smile inwardly.

If he’s not the right guy for me, I still don’t think I’ll ever regret making love with him. He stirs and I stay still. I don’t want him to know I’m awake. I feel him sliding underneath the blankets. It’s not chilly in here. Curiosity gets the better of me and I flip onto my back. He’s burrowed underneath the covers so I can’t see him.

“Garrick?”

No answer.

Suddenly, he spreads my legs. I gasp. His touch is electrifying. My eyes close and I tremble. He’s caressing my thighs and stomach. I hear him sigh. Then his tongue penetrates me. I nearly hit the ceiling. It’s been over a year since anyone has touched me intimately in any way. A year. Doesn’t he know how overly sensitive . . .
Oh.
He nips my clit, then starts to suckle. His fingers slide inside me. I can’t control myself. Waves of pleasure crash over me. I writhe and moan. I reach underneath the covers and grab two fistfuls of his hair. He intensifies his assault, sucking and licking me until I want to scream. What started as tiny pricks of pleasure balloons into something indescribable—too powerful for me to contain. “Garrick . . .”

“Come in my mouth, little bird,” he groans.

I can’t—this is too intense. “Stop!” I’m breathless.

He makes an exaggerated sucking noise and I feel his fingers plunge deeper. He’s ignoring me. The more I beg him to stop, the more he’ll punish me. I try to clamp my legs shut. He retaliates by pinching my nipple. My vagina is traitorous.

Garrick gets his wish.

Chapter Seven

I have two classes on Monday, but Garrick wants to stay, and I can’t tear myself away from him. I can’t.

“Feel good?”

“More than you’ll ever know.” We’re sitting side by side on the edge of the bed, freshly showered and naked.

He looks at the bloodstains on the sheet. “We need to discuss a couple of things.”

I think I’m prepared to open up a little bit with him. Even if I’m not, I know that if I want to keep this guy around, I’ll have to swallow my pride. “I should have told you.” I stare at the carpet.

He starts to massage my shoulders. “I’m not mad at you,” he says. “I’m surprised—I like knowing I’m the only one. But . . .”

“You want to know why a virgin knows how to give head?” This is how I always get myself into trouble. I’m fatally blunt. People don’t always appreciate the truth. I twist around so I can see him.

“The thought did cross my mind.”

“I’ve only been out of high school a couple of years,” I comment.

“Yeah, I know.” He runs his hand through his hair and sighs.

“A group of kids at school formed an abstinence club. My mother pressured me into joining.”

He looks at me incredulously. “Really? I thought that was a Hollywood thing.”

“Nope. Virgins-R-Us really exists,” I assure him.

“What did you discuss at meetings?”

“Sex.”

He laughs.

“The club was really a front,” I say. “Most of us partied together. And explored.”

I hope he believes me. I shift uncomfortably under the weight of his stare.

“Who’d you . . .”

“My high school sweetheart joined, too.” I stand, then walk to my bureau. I open a tiny jewelry box and take out a simple gold band. I walk back to the bed and show him. “This is my pledge ring.”

He takes it, then holds it up. “That’s some sick shit.” He hands the ring back to me. “Not you, but the fact that your mother forced you to join.”

“Yeah . . . well.” I don’t know what else to say. “There’ve been others,” I confess.

“I don’t want to know.”

Why are men so delicate?
I wonder. He’s shocked I was a virgin, but he doesn’t want to know my history. “Two more, to be exact.”

I slip the ring on my pinkie and sit next to him. He plays with my hair. “Since we’re making confessions,” he starts, “there’ve been more than three women in my life. That’s all I’m going to say.”

“I don’t care about your past.” I don’t. I’m not the kind of girl who nags and harasses my boyfriends, because I don’t want them to do it to me. Of course it never works out that way. Twenty-something guys are jealous assholes. You kiss them and they think you’re in a relationship. Ownership papers to follow.

“I’m happy this way,” I say, snuggling up to him.

“No strings?” he asks.

That’s a loaded question. I don’t answer.

“I told you I don’t share,” he says. “If you want boundaries, I’m good with that. But don’t play games with me; that’s all I ask.” He wraps his arms around me and gives me a good squeeze.

“What about work?” I’m concerned about Craig. If he finds out . . . I shiver. That guy is wrapped too tight; I’m not sure how far he’d go if he found out about this. Mixing my personal life with work might be difficult. But . . . “There’s no anti-fraternization policy at the club,” I say. “In fact, we have two married couples working together almost every night. Some people can work together, some can’t.” I wonder if
we
can.

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