squealing, she must have made a sound, because he stopped moving and drew back, giving her precious moments of blessed relief from the rasping soreness inside her. The look in his eyes scared her. He was going to stop. As difficult as it was, she didn’t want him to do that, because if he did and withdrew completely, she knew he would lose interest in her. She would revert to the friend, the companion, she’d been to him for so long. He would never again see her as a woman, want her as a woman.
She couldn’t bear that.
“I’m okay,” she said, trembling a smile. “It hurt, but it’s fine now.”
His dark eyes narrowed as if he didn’t believe her. She managed another wobbly smile and slid her hands down to his backside, squeezing to coax him to continue. She kept the smile on her face, arched her breasts to him.
He took a deep breath and pressed forward again. She knew that women made noises, sounds that made the man think she was really enjoying it. So Naomi copied what she’d learned from the movies, books, her friends. She said his name, over and over, as much to help take her mind off the returning discomfort as to convince him of her pleasure.
Tynan threw his head back, and she felt him come inside her.
All she could think was that it would now be over. Thank God .
Tynan slumped against her, and she closed her eyes against the sting of tears. She felt the hitch in her throat, in her heart. He lay there, still deep inside her, and she wanted to get away. Get away before she embarrassed herself and turned into a sniveling wreck.
The sob that escaped had Tynan jerking up onto his elbows. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head, unable to halt the flow of tears now and the dreadful hitching of her breath. No way could she speak or look at him.
She pushed at his chest, and he withdrew, all the time saying her name, coaxing her to look at him. “I want to go,” she sobbed, shoving harder. “Please. Get off me. I want to go.”
He eased back, and she made her escape, scrambling out from beneath him and struggling to stand. Frantically, she searched for her clothes, her humiliation complete when Tynan held out her panties and bra.
“You’re hurt.”
She shook her head and grabbed for her underwear, but he held it out of reach.
“Naomi, we should talk about this.”
In desperation, she reached out, her face wet with tears and the sobs making her throat ache. Tynan caught her hand. Although she put all her strength into shaking him off, he wouldn’t budge.
Her humiliation turned to anger. “What do you want me to say?”
He shrugged in that way he had. “I don’t know. But you’re obviously upset, and we need to talk so that—”
“So that what?” She raised her gaze to his. There was puzzlement in his eyes, but beneath it she saw the starkness, the…disappointment. He was wondering what on earth had possessed him to get himself tied up with a virgin—an idiot one at that. A crybaby female who whimpered like a child while experiencing her first venture into womanhood.
“Oh, you don’t have to say anything, Tynan. Believe me, there’s nothing to say.” She made a grab for her underwear again, and this time he released it.
The sobs returned while she struggled to dress. Tynan tried to reach for her again, but she stepped back out of his reach.
“Please, Naomi. Don’t cry. Like I said, it can be difficult the first time for females.”
Of all the things she didn’t need then, his placating words were right there at the top of the list. She’d known it could be painful when a man took her virginity; she wasn’t an idiot. What she couldn’t handle was her own reaction and the fact he’d no longer want her in that way. That nothing would ever be the same between them.
The ping of the microwave snapped Naomi’s attention back to the present. It took her several moments to recognize her surroundings, and that the slight ache between her legs was down to her session with Nathan
R.L. Stine - (ebook by Undead)