Time seems to freeze for a moment as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. It doesn’t.
Magnus inhales and slides his hand onto my breast, sans fabric. I know it’s insane and I’ve just woken up, but I’m tired of waiting—I feel as if I’ve been waiting my whole life to be with Magnus.
He presses a kiss to my ear and rubs his thumb gently over my breast, experimenting. My eyes flutter and I press my hips back against him.
“Magnus,” I groan.
The brushing of fabric alerts me to the movement of his arm as he slides it from beneath my neck to tuck my hair behind her ear, clearing the way for his open-mouthed kisses that feel more and more frantic with each moment.
“You’re so damn sexy,” Magnus murmurs against my skin. “I don’t think I can hold back anymore.”
“Then don’t,” I whimper. “Please don’t.”
He trails the pads of his fingers along my shoulder to the collar of my sweater, pressing his lips along the same path as he goes to pull the sweater off my body for the second time today.
I feel myself growing wet and I ache for his fingers and his throbbing length. I feel him suck on the skin of my shoulder, leaving a mark I’m sure, and gasp, letting him tug my arm out of my sleeve.
With a bit of maneuvering, Magnus pulls my sweater away from my body and onto the floor, where I’m happy to let it fall onto the gathered dust. I’m still wearing my skirt, but Magnus doesn’t seem to mind.
He rubs a hand over my belly from behind and I shiver at the callused touch. I press back against his erection once again and he groans, his voice making my body buzz. Magnus slides his hand down my body to tuck it inside of my skirt and underwear, cupping me gently and letting me grind against his hand and I can’t help but moan.
“Magnus—” I start, but I’m cut off by a whine as he slides two fingers inside of me.
“What is it?” Magnus growls as he scrapes his teeth over my ear.
“More, please, Magnus. I need more,” I gasp, nearly crying at the feeling of his fingers.
I reach behind me and clutch at the back of his head, ensuring that his lips stay on my shoulder.
“I don’t know what to do,” I tell him, a little embarrassed but too aroused to care very much.
During the course of my life, I’ve heard women talk about their first time. In college, girls would talk of drunken nights and morning regrets, of pain and hurt and regret. Though others seemed to recall their first time with starry eyes, nostalgic and waxing poetic of soft touches and shy kisses, caught in the throes of young, blissful love. For me, it seems to be neither.
I’m pushed as close to Magnus as I can even as I try to feel more of him. There’s a candle that I found and lit on the table by the bed. The soft scent of cinnamon and the smoke from the roaring fireplace washes me, shadowing me like a warm blanket. The curtains are open to the rainy night, but it’s too high up for anyone to see inside and I couldn’t care less if they saw what we’re doing or not.
It feels too much like a perfect dream to care.
The storm clouds seem to watch us through the window as Magnus pumps his fingers in and out of me gently, slick with my wet heat, curling his body against mine on the downy sheets.
“You’re doing just fine,” he says, kissing up my shoulder.
With my other hand, I move to pull down my skirt and underwear, but Magnus stops me.
“Leave it. I want to take you with the skirt on,” he growls, rubbing a hand over my ass, and slipping the fingers of his other hand in and out of me with ease.
“I need you,” I say in a trembling voice. “I need more, Magnus.”
“You’ll get more, don’t worry. But I need you to come first for me, Cassie,” Magnus whispers against my neck.
I suck in a breath, overwhelmed and throbbing with desire.
“You want me to come on your fingers?” I whimper.
Magnus props himself up with one arm and seals his mouth over mine, swallowing my gasps and moans of pleasure until I can’t take it anymore. I toss my head back against his shoulder, crying out in a wave of heart-pounding pleasure builds in my core.
“Oh, God, yes!” I cry, tangling our fingers together to direct him in touching me just right to make me come.
Ever attentive, just before I fall over the edge, Magnus turns my head towards him and kisses me soundly, preventing me from moaning loud enough for the house full of staff to hear.