He loves me. I love him. It shouldn't make sense that we do. We haven't known each other long. We haven't had enough time to truly learn about each other and "fall" in love. Still, we love each other. It just goes to show love is a funny thing. Especially when it's at first sight.
I'd never say I was a believer in love at first sight until now, despite all the books I like to read. Fiction to be exact. Fiction is fake. That's how I've always remembered the difference between fiction and non-fiction. My life has been full of non-fiction crap, and never enough fiction fantasy. Until now.
I smile sitting at the kitchen table watching Shy cook. Soft music is playing in the background. He wasn't lying. He definitely knows his way around the kitchen. He definitely seems to know how to make Chicken Marsala too. Sipping my wine, my mouth waters with excitement for the recipe and the memories.
Thinking over the entire journey of us, the entire short journey of us, maybe we know each other better than what I give us credit for. For instance, I know that Shy has a bad temper, he seems to like to fight. He's compassionate, a problem solver, super smart, has an eye for art, has an eye for great cars, appreciates architecture, cares about his body, loves his friends, has a great career starting, makes his own rules, doesn't let anything stand in his way and he loves...me. Oh, yeah, and pizza. So, I guess I do know a few things.
I have a feeling he knows just as many things about me that I do about him. How did I get so lucky? My eyes well up as I look around his cozy kitchen. It feels so good to have a place to belong in.
I haven't been alive very long. Just eighteen years, but there's always been this weird feeling of being born into the wrong family. Of living in the wrong house. Until now. Yeah, I'm super lucky to have found my place. Some spend the entirety of their lives looking for this feeling I have right now. There's no way I'm going to let this go as easily as I did. Shame on me.
"What's up?" Shy looks at me with a confused smile.
Crap. A tear escapes. Brushing it away, I take a sip from my glass. "Nothing. Why?"
He wipes his hands on his towel and slings it over his shoulder, sauntering over to me. "Beeecause you're crying. What's wrong?"
My brows furrow and this time, I can't hold back.
"Hey, hey. Luna, shh."
"I almost messed this up," I gesture between him and I.
"Yeah, well, I saved us. It's all good," he laughs.
"Oh! You!" I tickle his sides, but he doesn't flinch. He's not ticklish which isn't fair.
"You really want to go down that road? Because two can play at that game, you know."
I laugh as he turns back to his cooking. Finally, he's starting to plate our dinner. It's about damn time. I really want to say that out loud, but I know he'll attack me so I'll stick to the in my mind phrases. They're much safer.
"This...is Chicken Marsala. Did you take notes so you can make it for me next time?"
"Was I supposed to?" I scrunch my nose. "Oh well. I guess you'll have to always be the one to cook all the meals."
"What?! No way, woman. You will learn how to cook. Yup. You'll cook my meals--breakfast, lunch and dinner--and you'll do it barefoot and pregnant. Then you'll pop out my kids and keep this place spotless at all times."
I really hope he's joking. He busts out laughing probably from the look on my face.
"Luna, I'm joking. You know I'd never expect any of that out of you."
"You don't want children? Oh. My. God." My eyes roll shut as the savory chicken hits my tongue. This is the best, BEST, Marsala I've ever had. Holy crap, I can't help the moan from escaping.
"I thought I told you once in the past to never do that," Shy whispers serious.
My eyes pop open, "Do what?"
"Oh let's see, the eye roll, the moan," he watches my dawning expression. "Yeah. And do you remember I told you I only have so much patience? Now stop it. As for kids, yeah, I'd like to have a couple. You?"
"Mhm. Maybe two."
"Oh."
"What?"
"I was hoping to have like ten. I want a big family since I don't have a big one."
"Ten?! Wow. Your future wife will sure be a busy woman," I chuckle not too happy with thoughts of another woman as Shy's wife.
Shy shakes his head, "I'm kidding. I probably only want two. And, if a woman other than you is my wife, I'm not gonna be happy."
I blush. He looks down at his plate then back up.
"Luna, I want you to be mine."
"I am, silly."
Shy gets up from the table and comes over to kneel in front of me, taking my hands. "I meant, I want you to be fully mine. Tonight."
Oh S.H.I.T. He means sex. He wants to have sex. With me. Tonight. Oh my God. Am I ready for this? Did I shave my legs? Wait. I need to shower. Should I call Kiki? Do I just tell him sure? What...
Shy stands pulling me with him, slipping his hands around my waist and nuzzling my ear, "Breathe, baby."
Breathe. Okay. Yeah. I can do that. Breathing is easy. In, one, two, three, four and five; out, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven and eight. See. Got that breathing thing down.
"I...I need a shower!" I shout not meaning to sound half as loud as I just did. Way to ruin the moment...and his hearing.
"Of course," he laughs soft before taking me by the hand, away from the beautiful chicken, up the stairs and into his bedroom.
His steps are slow as he guides me. Patient. Is this how death row inmates feel? Dead woman walking. Yo! Dead woman walking! I'm pretty sure I'm going to die after this night. Whether from pleasure or pain, I'm not sure yet. I hope it's pleasure.
Without a word, he ushers me into his bathroom and takes a towel out of the cupboard, hangs it right outside the shower and starts the water for me. Steam quickly starts to billow, so he flicks on the exhaust fan and overhead lighting and turns off the main lights. I love that about this bathroom. It gives the space an intimate glow. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else on the planet.
He's leaning against the counter and curls his finger at me in a come hither gesture. Something about that move is so sexy, it causes my stomach to flip. I step between his legs and into his arms where he then places a kiss to my head before setting me from him.
Slowly, he takes the hem of my top and pulls it over my head then moves to unclasp my bra freeing my breasts. His head bends down to place a gentle kiss to each one before he moves his attention to my pants. Rough finger pads glide softly against my skin along with the material til it lands at my feet where he grips my ankle and lifts my foot to pull it free from my pant leg. He repeats the action with my other leg.
The way he flicks his gaze up at me conflicts with his patient hands. It causes a jolt straight through me. An impending storm is on the horizon. He displays patience, except in his eyes. Those gray windows are showing me the storm that's on the way. How am I going to handle this?
His thumbs hook onto the hem of my panties, and he slides them down my legs for me to step out of leaving me exposed. Despite his eyes on my body before, I feel the need to cover myself somehow knowing my small hands are a joke for the job. Instead I try to clasp them in front of me, but he takes my hands and shakes his head from side to side leaning toward my mouth where he claims a chaste kiss. A chaste kiss had I been wearing clothes. This is not a chaste kiss. This Satan has corrupted the meaning of chaste.
Gray eyes stare straight into mine now, all humor long gone out of his face. A few seconds tick by with him simply staring at me like he did the first time. It's as if he's memorizing me. I stand still and take his appraisal, til he opens the shower door and presses his fingertips against the small of my naked back.
He doesn't follow me into the shower like I assumed he would. I blink a few times at this realization. The door softly closes, and I am left with this short time by myself.
Losing one's virginity at eighteen years old is usually impetuous and can be full of regret. I'm eighteen and losing my virginity tonight. But, for me, it's not impetuous nor will it be full of regret. Judging by how he looks at me, I know it will be full of love and locked into my memory. Am I frightened? I would be lying if I wasn't just a little. Am I excited. Yes. Am I happy? One hundred percent.
Running the loofah over my body in long strokes, I try my best to calm my nerves. The anticipation has my skin buzzing, in a good way. I wish I could make all these minutes ticking on by the second, last forever. Instead every moment is becoming a memory. From each bubble on my arm forming and popping with every lathering stroke to the droplets of water racing down the shower door, I want to remember everything.
This time with Shy tonight will be an important stone that shapes who I am. I only have a handful of stones so far. I can't wait to collect more with Shy by my side. From what he says, it seems he wants me in his life for the long haul. Truly, I hope this comes to pass.
It's time to get out. My fingers are pruned. The texture feels funny rubbing them together. It makes me smile. Breathing in deep, I let out my breath and turn the water off before grabbing the towel. The soft, white cotton material licks away the water and embraces me into a warm hug. I hadn't noticed before, but the tiles under my feet are warm. It's the first time after a shower I'm not cold and the mirror isn't all steamed up despite the hot temperature of the room.
My hair is wet, and I'm happy to find a hair dryer in the cabinet. Quickly, I blow dry my hair into soft waves. I don't have any makeup on, but decide I look pretty enough. I then notice that Shy still has the toothbrush I used last time I was here. It surprises me he has it in a holder next to his. How have I not noticed this before?
Once I finish up with everything, I decide to walk out of the bathroom in the towel. My breath catches when I come into the room. There's candles everywhere. The room is awash in a soft romantic glow. Shy's naked back is to me, but I can see he's pouring champagne into two flutes. He's wearing what looks like black silk pajama pants. From where I stand, I can see the material hangs low on his hips and drapes down his body as if they were tailored specifically for him.
When he turns around, his Adam's apple bobs with a hard swallow. His face is filled with an intensity that has my heart beating rapid. When he hands me the flute, I barely register it. His step forward brings me out of my stupor, and I take the drink from him.
"Shy, your room is so beautiful," I breathe.
"This is our room, Luna," he murmurs.
He's melting my heart. Tears well, and I feel choked. Moments are racing by, and I'm trying my best to slow them down.
"To the beginning of our lives together," he says before lightly tapping the crystal to mine creating a ring pure in tone.
Absentmindedly, I sip the sweet bubbly liquid watching as he does the same. I'm not a bride on her wedding night, but I feel like one. I feel...cherished right now. Loved. How is it me he's chosen? How am I so lucky?
When I move to set my drink down, he stops me by cupping my elbow. "You should finish it, Luna. It will help you relax," he smiles.
His words make me nervous, so I do as he suggests not wasting any time in draining the contents of my flute. When I finish, he takes it from me and sets it down onto his dresser. But before he turns back to face me, I see him pause and take a breath. Is he as nervous as I am? Impossible. He's had so many women. I don't need to ask his number to know that. He's beauty personified. Any woman looking his way, wants him. So how can he be nervous?
My feet move on their own volition and I find myself standing behind him, placing a hand to his back. I hear him swallow, then he turns to face me. His face is relaxed, but his eyes are filled with not only love but...uncertainty. Why?
"I want this night to be perfect for you, Luna," he answers my question without my having asked it.
"It will be," I set his mind at ease. Despite my nerves, I know it will be.
Swooping down, he picks me up bridal style then gently lays me onto the bed that's been turned down. My towel falls away, and I am left with his eyes raking over my body. His gray irises become thin like a thread as his pupils dilate into a black abyss. He divests himself of his pajamas, and I can't help but openly stare. I know I'm blushing, but don't feel as embarrassed as I was the first time seeing him.
Immediately I notice his piercing is gone. My brows frown together with wonder, my eyes lingering longer than perhaps what is considered normal.
"Where's your piercing?" I ask shyly.
"I don't want to hurt you," he answers crawling up my body to settle his weight between my legs so that we're looking at each other eye to eye.
"Thank you," I whisper.
Shy frowns, "Luna...you know I'm going to have to hurt you once."
That thought is terrifying. No one has ever told me how bad it hurts or what happens. I've always been too embarrassed to ask anyone.
"Yes," I gulp.
"Everyone is different, but the pain shouldn't last too long. Anytime you want me to stop, just tell me."
"Maybe it won't hurt?"
"I...that hasn't been my experience."
He's not embarrassed to admit that, yet he doesn't sound like he's bragging. He's simply being honest with me. Wanting me to know the truth of things to come.
"Oh. Do we need a safe word?"
Shy chuckles, "We won't be doing any of that stuff tonight. Just say the word stop."
That stuff? What does he mean? I'm too embarrassed to ask. Plus, I don't want to ruin this moment. I nod my head instead, quickly forgetting my questions when his lips meet mine for a gentle kiss he doesn't hesitate with deepening.
The steel ball I love so much, massages against my tongue causing my insides to quiver. Teeth nip playfully at my bottom lip and pull slightly before letting go and repeating the action again. Never would I have thought teeth nipping at my lips, neck and collar bone could be so sexy. But Shy manages to do just that, then licks the skin at the hollow of my neck igniting a fire within me.
I squirm, but Shy's hand drifts to my hip to still my body. I can't help moving. His warm skin against mine, the pressure of his weight on top of me, his hands and lips are causing a riot inside of me. I don't know where to go with it or what to do.
He knows how much he's affecting me, he knows he's in control. I need him to be for this. Coming back up for a moment, he kisses under my ear as if he hears my thoughts.
"Relax. Just feel, Luna. There's nothing for you to think about. Quiet your mind."
He kisses my neck down to my shoulder, picking up my arm by my wrist and turning it over where he sucks the inside of my elbow shooting jolts of lightening both up and down. Goosebumps raise the hairs on my arms, and I shiver.
"That's it. Feel, baby," he nips my wrist before dragging my arm up above my head and sliding his fingers down til he reaches my breast and squeezes, then sucks my pebbled flesh into his mouth. Around and around his tongue swirls the rose-colored skin that's my nipple. The metal ball in his mouth presses hard causing me to moan until he releases me and moves to the other breast repeating the same actions. The slight sting of pain from his piercing elicits a sensation I can only describe as delicious.
He leaves my breasts too soon to trace the line of my abdomen to my navel with his tongue. Stopping only for a moment to dip in then back out, he journeys on until he reaches the center of my being.
"So wet for me already," he speaks against my sex. The vibration of his voice sends chills through me.
A part of me feels embarrassed to have him this up close and personal that I can't watch him. I know he's standing off the bed now, both my ankles in his hands. He pulls me toward the edge of the bed, but my eyes are on his erection. He's so beautiful. I want to touch him, but I don't know how.
When he kneels down and meets my eyes, I have to look away. The intensity with which he stares at me is too much. Instead, I lay back and close mine. He's done this to me before, the last time we were in the shower, and I've thought about the feelings he created inside of me so many times. I've craved it. My breath hitches when his tongue touches me, laving my skin in different strokes.
I bite my lip to try my best to keep quiet, but I fail with escaping moans and whimpers. Toes curling, he inserts a finger inside of me causing that full sensation again. Dragging in and out in a slow tempo, then curling slightly hitting something inside of me that makes my stomach clench and pressure to build.
"Does that feel good, Luna?" His voice rumbles against me, causing me to shiver.
"Ye-yes," I hiss when he does it again. Please don't ask me any more questions. I can hardly think.
Just when I think I feel full, I'm stretched by a second digit. He's put another finger inside, surprising me. I thought I felt full, but more so now. And this time when he curls both his fingers, the pressure feels far more intense. Needing him to move his fingers faster, my hips lift on their own accord. My body seems to know what to do, but Shy remains agonizingly slow. Slow with his fingers and slow with his licks. My body wants fast. It wants to run faster toward whatever is building up inside of me.
"Sh-Shy, I...it's happening again," I dare to tell him.
"Mmm. That's good, baby. I'm going to be inside of you soon, Luna." He kisses the inside of my thigh before returning to my center.
I barely register what he's said. I'm in a state of oblivion. Blissfully unaware of every solitary thing except for these new and wonderful sensations. And Shy seems to know exactly what's going on with these feelings as he answers my desire moving his fingers faster and faster. Somehow I'm back up near the headboard of our bed, and Shy is kissing me while his fingers still dance inside with my mounting pressure.
I can taste myself on his lips, but somehow that doesn't bother me. Rather the opposite. Excitement courses through me, my legs instinctively dragging up along the sides of his body. I hear him groan, and open my eyes curious about his excitement. He's watching me with hooded eyes, silently working my body toward something I almost experienced before. But this time it's different. This time, it's far more intense.
My chest rises and falls with my rapid heart beat, my toes are curled and my body is raised up trying to reach for him.
"Ah! Shy!"
"Come for me, baby," his voice is rough as gravel near my ear.
It's my undoing as I shatter with a crashing wave of bliss mixed with a piercing pain that's white hot. With a quick thrust, he's entered me. I feel as if my entire body is consumed. Every square inch is occupied by him, mind, body and soul. My breath is stolen from me, and I feel as if I can't breathe at all. He's cooing in my ear sweet words, I know, but I can't seem to register exactly what he's saying.
This experience is so foreign, so new, I'm blind. Finally, my breath returns in staggered shudders. My legs are gripping his sides, and I realize he's stopped moving. I blink up to look at him, and know he's waiting for me. His thumb brushes a tear off of my cheek. I'm crying?
"I'm going to move now," he states after several minutes then gently pulls back while he kisses me, working to rekindle the flames he had created. "Focus on my mouth."
And I do. I focus on his piercing, on his fingers as they deftly work my breasts coaxing me toward another climax. It's a wonder he can move at all, I'm so stretched. But he does, easier and easier as I feel the pressure mount again.
"You're so incredibly tight."
"Is that bad?" I worry.
"No. It's good. Very, very good," he strains.
He looks like he's in pain. Could he be? Does it hurt for him as much as it's hurt for me? No, that can't be right. He's not a virgin. Still. He said I was tight. Is my body hurting him.
"Am I...am I hurting you?" I rush my words out worried, yet feel selfish for how wonderful I'm starting to feel with the pain ebbing away.
"No," he whispers.
"It doesn't hurt anymore." My nails dig into his back as I hang onto him.
He makes a growling sound that makes my stomach flip and increases his speed with which he's thrusting into me. I can hardly hold onto him while his body works into mine. A light sheen of perspiration starts at his brow. His eyes are locked with mine, and his mouth drifts open slightly. Closing my eyes, I commit his expression to memory it's so beautiful.
"Open your eyes. Look at me, Luna. I want to watch you come undone."
Those erotic words push me over the edge for a second time. My body clenching down onto his, he throws his head back with a groan. Soon a spurting warmth fills me, his body slows til it stops and his forehead rests against mine. He's out of breath as if he's been running.
"Shy, that was...so wonderful."
He kisses my forehead then rolls onto his back bringing me with him so that I'm the one laying on top of him looking down.
"I hope it wasn't too painful," his jaw clenches.
I smile. "It wasn't."
"I love you, Luna."
"I love you, Shy."
-#-
We all do stupid things. That's how the live and learn adage was born. But, I almost made a catastrophic mistake. If it weren't for Shy's persistence, his love, I wouldn't be laying next to his sleeping form. I wouldn't have gotten to experience this beautiful night. A night that was perfect on so many levels.
Sure, we still have a lot to learn about each other, both good and bad. And that's okay. I just know I don't ever want to be without him. He's the one.
I smile softly in the dim glow of the room feeling drowsy as I draw lazy circles on Shy's back with my nails. I have to tell Kiki she's got something wrong with her rating chart. Not everything that falls out of heaven is bad. Even the occasional Satan.
The End.
_________________________________________________________________
EPILOGUE
Thinking back on the first time I've ever had sex, it's crazy I didn't get pregnant. We forgot to use protection after all. In fact, we were pretty reckless those first few months of screwing each other non-stop. I guess I got pretty lucky. I was able to finish school thankfully.
I earned a degree in business of all things. I even have a job working in Shy's entertainment firm. He makes video games. No big surprise there. Alex even works for him. Kiki finished as well. She has an art degree and her own studio. Shy keeps buying her art. We're going to be out of wall space soon.
It's been three years since my graduation. I'm twenty-five. So much has happened. Kiki and Alex got married during Kiki's second year of college. Yeah she was nineteen, but she said she wasn't about to let the big dummy alone in the world without her. They got married in Vegas over spring break at an Elvis chapel.
Annnd, Shiloh and I got married after I graduated! We didn't have my parents' support at first, but eventually they came around. Shy's family weren't in attendance. I feel so bad for him. At least all of his buddies were there minus Carter.
Today has caused me many happy tears. I wouldn't be reminiscing if I wasn't feeling so lousy and taking the day off to lay around. But this lazy day calls for it. Oh, and so does the positive pregnancy test I just took. I can't wait to tell Satan he's going to have a little devil to call his own.
Life is good.
_________________________________________________________________
-Author's Note-
That's it guys! I really hope you enjoyed Different IRL. If so, please send me a vote and tell your friends!
Now, I would like to announce my new book called Raise Your Hand. The first chapter has been uploaded so go check it out! Please note, the book has a trigger warning and is not going to be for everyone.
Anyway, thank you to my followers and readers who have stopped by to check out my stories. I really enjoy providing a story that can take you out of life for a bit. Also, thank you for all of your votes! They really make my day.