Chapter 9: First Touch, First Rejection
May 8, 2025
The moment his lips touched mine, everything inside me snapped.
Jake kissed like he was claiming me. Like he’d been waiting forever. Like he couldn’t breathe until his mouth was on mine.
I clutched at his shirt, dragging him closer, heat flooding every inch of my body. We stumbled backward, never breaking the kiss, until the back of my knees hit the bed.
He broke away just enough to look at me — eyes dark, hungry, serious.
“You sure?” he whispered, voice rough.
I nodded, breathless. “I want you.”
That was all he needed.
He leaned in again, kissing me harder this time, and gently pushed me down onto the mattress.
His hands slid up my thighs, over my hips, under the hem of my dress. I tugged at his shirt — and he let me pull it off.
His body was perfect.
Toned. Cut. Everything I’d tried not to stare at before, now laid bare in front of me.
I reached for his belt next, but his hand caught mine.
“Slow down,” he murmured, smiling.
I glared. “You’re moving too slow.”
He chuckled, low and hot. “God, you’re adorable.”
He leaned in and kissed me again — soft at first, then deeper, letting it build. One hand slid behind my neck while the other gripped my thigh, pulling it over his waist.
“Take it off,” I whispered.
He raised an eyebrow.
“My dress,” I clarified.
His grin turned wicked.
With a slow, deliberate motion, he peeled it off me. Cool air hit my skin, and his mouth followed — trailing kisses from my collarbone down to the swell of my breasts, lower, over my stomach, until he reached the edge of my panties.
He paused.
“Still good?”
I nodded, lips parted.
Jake hooked his fingers into the waistband and pulled them down, keeping his eyes locked on mine the whole time.
Then his mouth was back — on mine, his fingers sliding lower, brushing between my legs.
I gasped, arching.
“Holy shit,” I breathed.
His grin pressed against my jaw. “You’ve never done this before?”
I shook my head. “I’m nervous.”
“You’re perfect,” he whispered, kissing my neck. “And I want to ruin you just right.”
One finger slid inside me.
I moaned, instinctively biting his lip. He groaned, loving it.
He pulled back slightly, whispering against my ear, “Every time you touch yourself, I want you thinking of me.”
I whimpered, thighs trembling.
Then he added a second finger, stretching me. My hips bucked as I cried out, loving the burn, the fullness, the pressure building.
I was spiraling.
He pulled his fingers out and pressed them to my lips.
“Taste yourself,” he said, voice hoarse.
I did.
He watched me like he was about to lose it. “You’ve been in my head for days, Lily. It’s driving me fucking insane.”
I reached for his belt again.
His hands were shaking as he unzipped—
BRRRZZZT.
His phone lit up on the nightstand.
He stilled.
“Don’t,” I begged. “Ignore it.”
He glanced at the screen… and everything changed.
His jaw tightened. His hands dropped from my body.
“What is it?” I asked, breathless.
He didn’t move.
“Jake?”
He stepped back.
“Jake, what’s going on?”
He looked down at me — flushed, naked, trembling — and guilt flickered in his eyes.
“I have to go.”
I sat up, confused and furious. “What?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Who was it?”
He didn’t answer.
“Jake.”
Still nothing.
“Jake!”
He grabbed his phone, slipped his shirt on. “Don’t ask right now.”
“Are you serious?!”
“I’ll take you home.”
My heart was still pounding, but for a whole different reason.
He helped me dress in silence.
And the drive was even worse.
