Free Surrender by Violetta Rand Page B

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 . .