Free Project Virgin by Megan Crane Page A

push, the friction and the dark, deep joy of this.
    At last. This.
    “I thought it was supposed to hurt,” I whispered.
    Damon’s dark blue eyes gleamed. “Not if youdo it right.”
    I lifted myself to meet his thrusts, one harder and deeper than the next. I couldn’t control the fire that swept over me, the thrill that wound deep inside of me, the sheer joy that seared out from every place we touched, inside and out.
    “Have you done this a lot?” Even I could hear the wonder in my voice, and his dark blue eyes crinkled in the corners as he gazed down at me.
    “Sex, yes,” he said, dropping his face down to put his mouth against my neck again. “Virgins, no.”
    “Have you—”
    “Scottie.” A drag of his teeth against my sensitized skin. “Quiet.”
    Once again, I obeyed him.
    And everything fell away. The world shrunk down and expanded at the same time, until there was nothing but this bed. Until the bed was everything.
    The only thing that mattered was the searing,impossible fusion of our bodies coming together like this, and all the wild sensation that swept over me at the slide and the impact and the bliss of it.
    I would never be the same again. I didn’t want to be the same.
    With every deep thrust, with every roll of his hips or lift of mine, I made myself new. Or he did.
    Damon set an intense pace, a perfect rhythm, and I met him. It felt almost easy.It felt as if this wasn’t new, as if I’d done it so many times it was as much a memory as a revelation.
    I felt as if I’d been made for this. Him. Tonight.
    As if everything in my entire life had been carefully crafted to lead me straight here.
    And all the while, his mouth was in the crook of my neck. He urged me on, made me gasp and pant and cry out. He taught me how to fly with him and he letme stretch my wings, and all the while he kept up that wild, addicting pace.
    Until everything inside me went jagged and slick, and I thought I might die from the intensity—
    “You won’t die,” Damon told me, his voice nothing but a growl.
    I hadn’t realized I’d said that out loud. I didn’t care that I had.
    He reached down between us and found my clit, then massaged it, never pausing as he didit.
    And I felt myself spin tight, then tighter still, then so dangerously tight I thought it was the end of me—but instead, I tipped over into a wild, bucking sort of shattering that swept me away.
    I shook and I shook, and Damon’s thrusts fell out of that sleek rhythm. He groaned something I didn’t understand, he pounded himself into me, and then he called out my name as he followed me overthat edge.
    *
    I came back to myself with a jerk when I felt Damon move beside me. I didn’t remember him rolling off of me, but he had, and it felt like an unbearable loss when he pulled his arm from where it had tangled with mine. And then worse still when he kept going and left the bed entirely.
    He moved to the doorway I hadn’t paid any attention to earlierand flicked on the lights as he walked through it, showing me a glimpse of his bathroom before he closed the door behind him.
    I lay there with the lights of the city playing lazy games across my bare skin, stretched out across Damon’s bed like some kind of sacrificial offering. But no longer a virgin one. I had to muffle my laugh at that. All those years and all that waiting, and it was finallydone.
    I wasn’t a virgin any longer. I’d finally had sex.
    And I didn’t need to go out and run any comparison tests to know that the kind of sex I’d had tonight was nothing short of extraordinary. Most of my friends had reported the loss of their virginities—years and years ago—as an activity that rated somewhere between awkward and uncomfortable, and very occasionally, nice.
    Not life-altering.Not stunning.
    But then, this was Damon Patrick. He was both of those things when he was fully clothed and on his phone—
    Which was when my stomach twisted. What was I doing? Lolling around in the man’s bed