Gagged (28 page)

I reach up. I run a finger around his lips.
 

“And these,” I say, moving my finger to my own lips, “go here.”
 

He hesitates. I wonder if it’s possible he’s never kissed a woman while having sex. He probably has, but I’ll bet it was angry, messy kissing. I want something soft. It’s possible that in his own way, he’s a virgin here, too.
 

“I’m not really used to — ”

“Shh,” I say. “Today is my turn.” I run my palm across his cheek. “Don’t make me make you beg.”
 

He moves closer. His lips are hard and hesitant on first contact but melt almost immediately. Then it’s all mouth and gentle tongue. Soft presses and increasingly urgent breaths. He moves to my neck. I close my eyes and tip my head back, opening my eyes again to be sure we’re still alone. Nobody can see us here, so I take Caspian’s head in my hands and return his lips to mine. Pressure increases. He mashes into me. I can feel the temperature of his breath and smell the fresh scent of his skin.
 

With our mouths still together, Caspian reaches under my dress and peels my panties away. He tosses them aside and shifts so he’s between my legs, my feet flat on the ground, knees up and apart. He uses one hand to tug his pants down farther. His belt jangles. I look down to see his cock and balls before he enters me. I can spy the top of my pussy, with my hips tipped up, as his dripping cock bobs before it. I wish I could see his tip as it parts my virgin lips.

It brushes me. I feel its warmth touch my throbbing clit, pulsing in time with my heart. I want his hand on my tits. I want his mouth and his body everywhere. I don’t want to be chaste anymore. I want Caspian to be the one to claim me.
 

“You’re sure?”
 

I answer by sliding my hands around his lower half, gripping his firm, muscular ass, and pulling him into me.
 

I gasp as he enters. I’m so wet that he has no problems, but having something as big as Caspian’s cock inside me is uncomfortable. There’s not really pain, just a feeling of something shoved where it shouldn’t be. But then he withdraws, and the ridge of his cock’s head flutters along my length, making things easier. He pauses most of the way out, his tip still inside, where I get the most sensation without the discomfort.
 

And he says, “Are you okay?”
 

“Just fuck me, Caspian. Fuck this stupid virginity away.”
 

He thrusts back in. And out. And in. And out. Tempo increases. He keeps his mouth where it belongs, but his lips are increasingly insistent. I pull my legs up as he moves forward along me, and the change in position brings exquisite new pleasure. So much for the first-time jitters. Maybe it doesn’t happen with a man who knows what he’s doing.
 

He fills me more this way — almost too much, and I push him back a bit, just a little. But now he’s hitting a new spot with his head, making all of me clench and desperate to spasm. It’s a different sensation than before, with the vibrator. And then he’s putting his weight on our union, pressing my clit between us like a stone rolled between two moving hands. I wanted to get this over with. I wanted to have him, and what my body’s been yearning for. But now I’m sure I’m going to come. As he fucks me for the first time, I just know I’m going to —
 

“That’s it,” he says. “Come for me, Aurora.”
 

I finally let go. All the old feelings. All the guilt. All the reservations. They’re gone as Caspian buries his cock inside me, as my pussy sucks his thrusting shaft and I come in waves of pleasure.
 

“I’m going to come,” he say as my orgasm finishes. “Oh God, Aurora, I’m going to come!”

I’m on the pill. Have been for years, to tame my periods.
 

So in his ear, I whisper,
“Come inside me.”

And he does, crying out a little, as I grip him tight to me.
 

We roll apart, looking up at the blue sky. I pull my dress down to cover my nakedness, and Caspian, raising his hips, pulls up his pants to do the same.

It’s not awkward. I don’t feel guilty like I have before. Even ten minutes later, with no words said or movement made, I feel comfortable here with him.

I decide this is the best use of a turn yet.
 

I decide that no matter who comes out on top in our wager, I’ve won plenty.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

A
URORA

I
LET
J
ASMINE
PRATTLE
ON
about James for a while, saying nothing, keeping my smug secret close to the vest. I’m happy for her and want to hear her news, but I’m also reticent to tell her my story. I wonder what it means. I’m no longer a virgin; that troublesome bit of business is now behind me so I can finally get on with my life. I thought we handled it pleasantly, and it went much better than Jasmine described her own “cherry-bursting ceremony” (her words) at a much younger age. So I count myself lucky. I didn’t feel strange leaving Caspian this time, and if he were to call right now, I don’t think it’d be weird between us. If anything, I’ll bet it’s weirder for him than for me. He’s probably
fucked
plenty, but I wonder how many times the man has
made love
. I’m sure he’s used to using his cock, but how much has he used his mouth to kiss?
 

It’s strange. I let a part of that man enter my body, but it’s the pressing of our lips that strikes me as the far bigger deal.
 

But despite it all, I’m still nervous for my turn to speak. Jasmine will ask; she knows I left to take her advice. I plan to be honest. I don’t want to be Shy Old Aurora, blushing her way through sex talk and using all sorts of metaphors. I still doubt I’ll be able to say the word “cock” out loud and will instead find some stupidly vague way to describe it all, but I plan on telling the truth. And still I’m uneasy. As if I’ve done something wrong.
 

Caspian is right. And Jasmine, come to think of it, is right as well.
 

I guess I am sort of broken.
 

The thing with my mom’s back massager in the bathroom — with Mom’s discovery and harsh words, with Dad and his belt, with the birth of my own scars, always hidden — feels so long ago. I thought it was decently buried. I’ve even, I thought, made peace with my parents by mutually agreeing to never raise those incidents and pretend they never happened. But maybe I’m haunted.

Maybe my hands still are tied, to use Caspian’s metaphor.
 

Maybe I’m not yet free to speak my mind.
 

Maybe I
am
still gagged.
 

And finally Jasmine finishes, telling me about her latest date with James and (of course) not even going into explicit detail about their bedroom antics at the end. In the past I’d always flinched from those intense sexual reports, and maybe that’s why Jasmine is sparing me now. But I get the feeling there’s another reason she’s not telling me about her sex with James: that they’re not having any. It’s like they started wrong, hit the reset button, and decided the best way to reboot their relationship was to do penance for all the early and overt sex that started it all.

Which means that I’m not even going to get to tell my sex story as a successor to another.
 

Jasmine has given me no lead-in. No precedent.
 

If she’s sparing me sex talk, she’s doing me a disservice. Because that makes this more awkward and makes me feel more like a girl overly willing to kiss and tell.
 

When she says, “So, hey, did you catch up with Caspian today?” I just sort of say, “Yes.”
 

And when she prompts me with
“And?”
I sort of shrug and tell her, “We went to the park.”

It goes on like this for five solid minutes. But Jasmine is persistent and eventually she gets to rolling, and I’ve left her no choice but to believe that we either 1) had sex on the picnic blanket or 2) we had a super gay tea with our pinkie fingers held out the entire time. And so I say, “Okay, fine. It happened.”
 

She acts like she didn’t quite hear me. Or that she shouldn’t dare believe what she thinks she maybe, sorta, kinda heard.
 

“It happened?”

“We … you know.”
 

“He fucked you?”
 

I wince.
 

“Right there in the park?
Caspian White
fucked you right there in the middle of a park?
Ohmygod
, Aurora! But bitch, I saw him first! I’m so jealous!” And she hits me on the arm, which isn’t helping at all.
 

“Yeah.”
 

“So you’re in the club. You’re a woman now.”
 

“I was a woman before.” Goddammit. I’m blushing; I can feel it.
 

“No. Don’t you know? There’s a switch at the bottom of your pussy. Until a dick flips it for you, you’re not really a woman. So now you get all the benefits.”
 

“What benefits?” I ask, wondering where this bullshit is going and eager for the distraction.

But she ignores me. She has a hand on her hip, the other wagging in my direction like a stern teacher’s. “And you can’t hit that switch with a dildo. It’s jizz activated.”
 

“Gross.”
 

“Not
gross! You’re a woman now. You
love
jizz! It’s like — ” And she makes a little pantomime display of orgiastic delight, turning her face and jerking hands upward toward what I assume are many invisible, spouting penises. Complete with guttural gargling noises.
   

“Mmm-hmm.”
 

“So how did it go? Did it hurt?”
 

“No, not really.”
 

“Felt good?”
 

“I guess.”
 

“Were you, like, up against something, or just on the grass, or … well, I’m thinking that’d be advanced. Missionary the first time, all the way. But then, this is Caspian we’re talking about. I saw his dick. Didn’t get to touch it. You asshole. But I did see it. And, I mean, ouch. Not for me. I’m a professional. But for you. Were you like — ?”
 

“We were just lying down.”
 

“And is he good?”
 

“Sure.”
 

Jasmine eyes me. For a long time. Then she says, “You owe me this, you know.”
 

“Owe you what?”
 

“I’ve told you about everything I’ve done.”

“You sure have.” I didn’t realize she was providing a service. Silly me.

“Remember when I broke that dresser? Gave you all the details. Didn’t know it was possible to bruise your cervix, did you?”

“Sure didn’t.”
 

“You might need to worry about that with Caspian. Trying to park that tanker inside your tight little garage. Because I’ve seen both halves of that garage situation, remember.”
 

“Okay. That’s enough.”
 

“What’s enough?” She looks shocked. Offended, even.
 

“We had sex. I’m not a virgin anymore. But I guess I’m still not ready to be as …
forthcoming
… about it all as you are.”
 

“Wait. You’re fucking
Caspian White
… and you’re not going to tell me every detail? You’re not going to get me pictures and video?”
 

“Jasmine. Seriously. You know I’m not like you.”
 

“But it’s Caspian! Your pussy is the envy of millions of pussies all around the world! You have a duty to share what your pussy knows with the rest of the planet!”
 

I say nothing. I sort of turn away.
 

“What? It was good, wasn’t it?”
 

“Sure.”
 

“Then what’s the problem? You’re seeing him again, right?”
 

I guess? I felt so sure about all of this just minutes ago. I felt loud and proud when Caspian and I parted ways, ready to march back to Jasmine and tell her everything, in as much detail as she could stand. I was a changed person. I’d tamed the cold, domineering billionaire and lived to tell the tale. He wasn’t so awful after all, and I wasn’t so coy.

But now Classic Aurora is creeping back into my mind.
 

And I know that tomorrow, things will be different. Not because he’s a man, and men sometimes feel differently in the morning than women do.
 

Tomorrow will be different because of our wager — and tomorrow is his turn.
 

Jasmine sits when I start waffling. Her exuberant, over-the-top tone vanishes. And she says, “What’s the problem?”

“I don’t know. Maybe there is none.”
 

“
Maybe
?”

“It’s hard to figure him out. His sister said that — ”

“You met his sister?”
 

“Well, yes. Lucy. It’s a long story. But basically she called me, and — ”
 

“She
called
you?”
 

“Yeah, because I guess Caspian has been checking up on me for a while, and Lucy thought I might be, I don’t know,
good for him
or something, and — ”
 

Jasmine leaps off the couch, hands held high like a sprinter crossing the finish line.
 

“What?”
 

“What?”
Jasmine repeats, her triumphant arms slowly lowering. “Honey, that’s it. You’re
in
. You got family approval. You’re ‘good for him.’ James wants me to meet his brother next week, and I’m peeing myself thinking about it. But you didn’t even have to try;
his sister came to you.
Good fucking deal, Aurora.” Her hands go to her hips. “So are you going to meet his parents?”
 

I roll my eyes. “We’re not even dating.”