You decide. The words rang out, echoed through the silent house, and made Trixie's heart start racing, possibly faster than it ever had before. He wasn't simply asking her about which room to start the tour of his house. Oh, heavens no, not that. Even as innocent as she was, she understood the hidden question underneath his words. It was evident in the piercing glint to his eyes, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his feet were planted, two feet apart and rooted to the ground. "I…" trembled out of her mouth before coming to a stop.
"It's okay. It's okay," Jim repeated, a slight flush smearing across his face, thinking she had given him her answer. He half-turned, caught her hand in his, and turned towards the study, prepared to go with his second suggestion. It looked like a tour of his house was next on the agenda. Not quite as fun or pleasurable but at least he would still have her company. When she didn't follow, he spun back around, obviously puzzled. "Trixie?"
"You didn't let me finish." Trixie's voice was low and throaty, completely unnatural and sounding so different than normal. Her body had made her answer, possibly months ago when an evening spent locked in a cellar had brought an abrupt halt to it, even if it took her mind a while longer to catch up. Feeling as if she was moving in ultra-slow motion, Trixie stepped towards him, somehow knowing that she would have to find the courage to make the first move. There was simply no way her Jim would pressure her. Suggest, yes. Tempt, certainly. But never pressure. It would have to be her decision.
Hardly daring to believe that she was approaching him, Jim watched her out of fascinated and disbelieving eyes. When their toes were barely touching, when her warm breath hit his chest, when she lifted her eyes and he saw the same need he felt for her reflecting back at him, he sucked in a breath that was nearly painful. It only got better.
Standing in front of him, her answer as clear as if she had spoken it aloud, Trixie bit her bottom lip, hoping, just hoping, she was going about this the right way. Having extremely limited experiences, she wasn't quite sure of the exact route. Tentatively, she brought her hands up and laid them on his chest. She fanned them out, amazed that she could feel his heart pounding underneath them. "Your heart. It's going so fast," she mumbled and then turned a bright pink at her hastily whispered words.
Yeah. That simple touch was all he needed, his red light to proceed. Strong arms banded around her, imprisoning her within, while he hoarsely whispered, "You should know. It's what you do to me." He heard a small gasp before drawing her closer, so close that not a lick of air attempted to exist between them, and brought his mouth down to hers.
Lovely. So lovely. It was all she could as those expert lips claimed hers. She made a sound, something between a purr and a groan, which was quickly swallowed by him. He wasted no time mating his tongue with hers. She accepted and reciprocated while she gripped his back and held on for dear life. Everything went a dreamy gold behind her eyelids. She only opened them when the kiss stopped.
It cost a lot to pull back, to stop, to offer her one more chance to say no, especially since it would probably kill him if she did. He cupped her face with one hand, stroked a finger lightly over her high cheekbone, and got out, his voice thick, hoarse, and filled with a need he had never experienced before, "This is it, Trix. This is it. Yes or no."
"Oh, gleeps! Yes! Of course it's yes," was her immediate response. She had the pleasure of watching a darkly decadent amusement flicker in his startling emerald green eyes before he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead.
"Upstairs, then," he whispered, an arm wrapped tight around her waist. He kept her close to him, unable to stop touching her, the entire way up the stairs, but he knew better than to kiss her again. If he did, they wouldn't make it to his room. It was a normal flight of stairs, nothing long or winding, a flight he had traveled more times in his life than he could ever possibly count. Tonight, it felt like forever before they made it to the top.
Trixie didn't take the time to appreciate the country style décor that continued upstairs, a fitting theme for the home. The roughly framed pictures of the house and its surrounding areas in the different seasons didn't register. Neither did the antique quilt hanging on the wall crafted by Jim's great-grandmother or the gorgeous hand-carved wooden chest that had traveled over to America with one of his ancestors. Nothing mattered. Not in this moment. Not in this time. Nothing mattered but the journey they were about to take. Together.
The second he pushed open his bedroom door she was in his arms again. This time, the kiss was more passionate and volatile than the one downstairs. He wanted her to have no doubts of how much he wanted her, how much he desired her, how much he loved her. And he was going to prove it to her until it couldn't be doubted, through whispered words, quick and enthralling touches, and deep, searing kisses that bound him to her forever.
When he broke contact with her intoxicating lips to start nibbling on the sensitive skin of her neck, Trixie's head dropped back. Her knees were starting to go weak and there was that tingly feeling again, beginning in the very center of her and quickly spreading like an unquenchable wild fire to all of her extremities. She was amazed at how hot she was starting to feel and her breath…it was coming in short gasps and pants, like she was finishing up a laborious run or completing another form of strenuous exercise. A smile touched her mouth and she giggled. That's exactly what she was doing.
He smiled against her, pleased that she was comfortable enough to laugh while he was feasting on her neck, taking it as a good sign. He wanted her to enjoy every bit of their time together, to not be scared or hesitant. He wanted it all for her. "What's so funny?" he wondered, taking a small bit of her skin gently between his teeth and letting go of it. He blew on it, turning her giggles into a deep, throaty sigh, and nuzzled her. "What made you laugh?"
Shivers danced along her spine, made her seek out the nearness of the person causing them to occur in the first place. Placing a hand on the softness of his cotton shirt, she mumbled against him, "Noth…nothing." Her head rested on his chest and her heart continued to thump wildly. "I'm just a little…hot," she added breathlessly.
"Good. That's the way it's supposed to be," Jim replied back huskily. Long, expert fingers slid under the hem of her shirt. Gauging her reaction, he tugged it up her body. Inch by inch, her tanned and toned body was revealed to him until he pulled it up and over her head. The curls he adored bounced before settling back to frame her face. The shirt landed on the floor, forgotten, to pool in a shade of deep dark blue against the hardwood. All she had left covering her upper body was a soft and feminine bra Di had talked her into buying months ago.
Oh, the recent urge to laugh was long gone. Trixie nervously chewed on the inside of her mouth, watching him closely, and resisted the urge to cover her body with her hands. She kept them loose at her sides, her fingers tapping nervously against her thighs, and looked at him. Really looked at him. The sharp intake of his breath wasn't lost on her. Neither was the bright flare of desire in his eyes. He wanted her. Her. Trixie Belden from Sleepyside. The knowledge filled her with mixture of awe and a womanly confidence she had never felt before. His eyes skimmed over her torso, starting at the top, moving towards her breasts, and finally down to her stomach and the belly button that peeped right above the snap of her denim shorts.
Although he desperately wanted it all, and wanted it all right at this very moment, he called on a reserve of patience he'd never known he possessed. Patiently, he started back at the beginning, enjoying the taste of her lips, the depth of her mouth, until she was once again as pliant and comfortable in his arms as she had been before. Carefully, cautiously, he started to blaze a trail starting at her lips, moving down to the intoxicating hollow of her neck and then skimming lower, across the tops of her breasts revealed above a small scrap of a bra the color of midnight.
"Oh, woe." The words were torn out of her. Unconsciously asking for more, Trixie leaned back, allowing him easier access to her breasts. Jim immediately complied, a roguish grin dancing across his lips, before moving from the bare top to gentle suckle a raised and puckered nipple through the thin scrap of satin encasing them.
If his arms weren't supporting her, her knees would have buckled, the pleasure was that intense. As it was, her right leg skipped out behind her, bounced off the wooden frame of the bed. Since it seemed like a good idea, and an absolutely necessary one, to retreat to the sturdy bed, her other leg followed suit. He figured out what she wanted without a request. Without losing contact, his hands firm on her waist and his mouth lavishing attention on her breasts, he lowered her down onto the thin summer blanket. Trixie had the presence of mind to toe her sandals off. They fell with a plop to the floor.
Because he wanted to remember her like this, always, the very first time she lay on his bed, he lifted his head and began memorizing every nuance of her. Bright, trusting and slightly nervous blue eyes stared back at him. An adorable pink flush started at her cheeks and painted its way down to her belly. Tantalizing blonde curls spread out on his pillow. God, the curls alone were enough to drive him wild. He reached out, gently tugged one, and watched it spring back into place, mesmerized by the simple action. "I love you," he murmured, gently rearranging his longer frame on the bed, and skimming a finger along her cheek. "You know that, right?"
"I do," she whispered back, giving him a time-honored response reminiscent of a wedding. More pink heightened her cheeks. She felt the strength of his words in the tender caress across her face. Because she wanted to let him know how much she loved him, she gently cupped his face in her small hands. "I love you, too. From the very first second we met."
"Me, too," he replied. That first meeting was as vivid to him as if it had happened yesterday. Who would ever have known that his life was going to be changed so drastically that day a petite tornado had run into him at his father's company? He blessed each day for it even if they had gone through some rather harrowing incidents afterwards. But those memories were for later. Tonight was for something entirely different. Pleasure, love, and happiness. Hurriedly, he whipped off his shirt, wanting to even things out between them. It fell to the floor, to land on top of her shoes. Desperate to feel her skin against his, Jim leaned forward until their chests touched. The only clothing that separated them was her bra. Taking her mouth again in a deep, intense kiss, he began working the clasp at the back and nearly let out a triumphant cry when it popped open after only a few fumbling attempts.
Somewhere in her passion-induced brain it registered that her bra was no longer fastened. When a long finger started slipping first one strap down her arm, then another, she became acutely aware that she was about to be completely nude from the waist up. It should have made her nervous but, with his wonderful, talented lips making it impossible for her to think of anything but him and the amazing feelings he was conjuring up, she wasn't. She held on tighter.
Like a whispered word on the wind, the bra was gone, just like that. Her breasts tumbled free, were his for the moment. He couldn't wait to get back to them but, wanting to smooth the way, he started a leisurely trail back to them, hoping the slowness would keep her at ease. When he simultaneously licked one nipple and touched the other, her back bowed off the bed. Her heart pounded so hard against his head he was amazed it didn't jump out of her chest. "Trixie," he croaked, unsure if it was a question or a statement.
"More," she mumbled back, her hand reaching around his head and holding him there. The pleasure was so intense, so astonishing, she didn't want it to end. Ever. All she knew was the feelings he was stirring within her were beyond amazing and eliciting the most astonishing connection between her breasts and her very center, one she hadn't been aware of before, and one she liked very, very much. "More," she demanded again.
Grinning against her skin, he happily obliged, paying quite a bit of homage to one of his favorite areas of her lithe body. By the murmured, purring sounds coming from her mouth, he could tell she was getting ready for the something more, the something decadent, the something he'd started fantasizing about right after he met her.
One hand fisted in the sheet, bunching it up and holding onto it like an anchor, while the other wrapped around his shoulder, urging him to stay right where he was. Words weren't possible. Her mind couldn't form them. Her lips definitely couldn't say them. All she could concentrate on now were her feelings and how lovely and powerful they were. Somewhere in the cloud of haze surrounding her mind it registered that Jim was slowly moving questing fingers down her stomach.
Jim continued his ministrations at her breasts, plumping up one and then the other for equal and undivided attention. The action was two-fold. One, and most importantly, it was extremely pleasurable, both for him and for Trixie. Two, it helped distract her from his wandering hand which was carefully working the snap of her denim shorts. It practically fell open at his touch. When she didn't protest or appear to notice, he became bolder and tucked the departing material off to the side. Because it was the first time to touch the most intimate part of her, he lifted his head, wanting to see her reaction.
It took a moment for her to realize he wasn't kissing her body anymore. Blue eyes popped open, were glazed over with a desire she couldn't explain yet. "I…what…" stuttered out of her mouth, completely unable to string together anything coherent or intelligent.
Lips curved. Not answering, understanding that his actions would speak more clearly than anything he could ever come up with, he tugged the shorts down her lean, golden legs, letting his fingers linger on the smooth skin of her thighs, the sensitive area behind her knees, and finally down to her feet where he couldn't resist a little tickle. A choked giggle escaped, made him chuckle in response, before he retraced his steps.
And then Trixie couldn't laugh. She couldn't do anything. His expert fingers touched her most sensitive area, right through the silk of her dark blue panties. She didn't know he watched her every reaction. Her eyes fluttered closed, her head fell back on the pillow, and a low, breathy sigh escaped, filled the air. It was the prettiest sound he had ever heard.
It was all he needed. He crushed his mouth to hers, needing the contact as much as he needed air in his lungs and blood in his veins. Their chests touched, their legs twined, and he finally slipped his hand under her panties. He felt the slight astonishment course through her body when he stroked her gently, lovingly, reverently. Relaxation followed his slightly jumbled mumblings of comfort, of encouragement, before he became more daring, and, with her delightful and eager participation, inserted a finger inside.
Her hand didn't fist in the sheet now. They were wrapped around him, holding him as tightly to her as she could so that not even a smidgeon of air could work its way between them, while one leg hooked around his, fastening him to her. She wasn't letting go, couldn't fathom not holding on to him, and held on tightly while he began to take her on a journey she had never, ever dreamed possible.
Although it cost him quite a lot, he was determined to hold off all needs until she was seen to. Her first time, her first time ran like an insistent mantra through his mind, over and over again. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His breath grew raspier. He left her mouth, to rest his head in the crook of her neck, where he listened to the growing sounds of her moans. The tension began to build within her body. When she finally let go, let the pleasure take over and carry her to the ending point that was as decadent and wicked as it was both delightful and pleasurable, he gritted his teeth and viciously held on to his own, determined not to follow her until they were fastened together.
Her body felt like melted wax, all soft, languid, and able to be molded into whichever form he wanted it to be. Her arms fell to the soft bed while sensations slowly came back to her. The feel of the bed underneath. The sheets bunched up around her. The whispery breaths of air floating across her chest. And the sound of his voice, softly murmuring to her how much he loved her, how proud he was of her, how he couldn't wait to do it all over again with her and only with her. They all sounded great to her, especially the last one. "Thank you," she said, pressing a kiss to the top of his redhead.
Lovingly brushing back an errant curl from her face, he dropped his forehead to hers. "You're more than welcome," he murmured huskily back. A devilish gleam entered his eyes and he winked at her. "In fact, I'd be happy to oblige you anytime you'd like."
A giggle flowed up and over, like the frothy bubbles filling a champagne glass. "You don't have to ask me twice," she replied, amazed at her own boldness.
He adored the sound of her laughter, loved it even more that she was doing it in his bed. It filled his heart, made their moment all the more special to him. He told her so with a gentle kiss to her lips, as soft as a butterfly landing on a dancing flower in a field outside. "Now," he said, whispering in her ear, and hoping for a positive response, "are you ready for more?"
Of course, he was giving her a chance to call a halt, if that was what she so desired. Honorable. One of his most sterling qualities. Actions always spoke louder than words. She reached down, caught the edges of her panties, and, with blue eyes glued to his, started stripping them down her legs. A small tremor shook her body at the daringness of her answer.
Her answer couldn't have been more explicit had she written an entire dissertation on the subject. Appreciating her actions, he let his eyes wander to the vision laid out before him. "My God," he breathed, hardly daring to believe that she was really here, a living, breathing petite goddess decorating his bed. "You're so damn beautiful."
Trixie didn't correct him. With the hungry look on his face, she actually felt beautiful. "Only for you," she declared lowly, her arms reaching out for him. "Only ever for you."
A primal need to claim rose up and within him. She was going to be his, for now and for always. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he started to fumble at the snap of his khaki shorts. Another time, when she had more confidence in herself and the act they were about to perform, she would help him with his task. Not tonight. Aware that he was starting to equal the playing field, her breath lodged in her throat. Her bare toes nervously curled into the sheets while she waited with bated expectation for him to join her in the same state of undress.
Jim couldn't help but grin at her muffled gasp when she got her first look at him. The blue eyes became even larger if that was even possible. Running a soothing hand over her back in case she should be having any second thoughts, he went with what he knew she already liked. Going slow when his body was crying out for release nearly stretched the control he was exuding over himself but it was worth it. He wanted her comfortable.
The attention he focused on her body, first the hollow of her neck, then the tips of her breath, helped rekindle the amazing feelings from before. They started again in the center of her, began to pulsate out and grow in volume. When he touched that secret, most sacred part, she was amazed to feel them began to take over yet again. "Oh, Jim! I can't…even…think," she murmured, her hips lifting to help his smart and extremely competent fingers.
"We're even, then." His whisper made tremors course down her back. "I can't think, either." But he did have enough rational thought left in the mush that was his brain to remember to reach into his nightstand and pull out an extremely vital part of the night.
Somewhere in the recesses of her mind she heard the sound of something tearing. She knew what it meant, what he was doing. Protecting her. Protecting them. The final preparation. While a tiny bit of her was a little uncertain, even a little scared, the realization brought an exciting eagerness to her. Her dreams were about to be answered. She would finally know what it would be like to be joined with him.
Cautiously, he shifted his body, getting into the age-old position. Raising himself up on his arms, his muscles thick and corded with the effort it was costing him to go as carefully as possible, he waited until she was staring directly back at him. "Trixie," he said. Nothing more, nothing less, just the sweetest word to him in the entirety of the whole English language.
"Jim," she answered, unable to look anywhere else but at him. Their centers were matched up perfectly. Swallowing her last gulp of nerves, she nodded, giving him the final clearance. Needing a distraction of the serious kind, she fussed her mouth with his.
He covered her body with his, reveling in the feel of her soft skin pressed against his, and, knowing it was her first time, wanting it to be as special, memorable, and amazing as it possibly could, he slowly started to enter, pulling back and thrusting forward, all in a deliberately slow and tender manner. Softly whispered words, softly whispered breaths, softly whispered sounds reverberated throughout the bedroom while Jim joined his body to hers and they truly became one. Trixie bit her lip to keep from crying out at the first jolt of pain. Understanding, Jim nuzzled his cheek against hers and waited, apologizing profusely against her skin. He hated to cause her any type of pain. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"No, no." She shook her head, not wanting any apologies to mar their special time together. She kissed him, right above his heart, and nodded again. She let her hips fall to the side which helped. The pain was lessening, was nearly gone. And she had the memory of her first climax of only a few minutes ago to help drive her on. Now that she had him, she wanted it all. "I'm fine. Show me, Jim. Show me what's next."
A wealth of love grew and flourished within him. He began moving within, sliding in and out in a provocatively slow dance, letting the need burn within him and her. He called on all his expertise to keep it leisurely and languorous, to make her come again before he found his pleasure that was desperately aching for release. He began to increase the tempo, groaned when she caught on to the change in rhythm and willingly met him.
This time, the feelings were much stronger and much more demanding than before. All she could do was hold on. Her hips rose and fell with his, following his lead with a natural ability she hadn't known she was capable of, until everything began to go brilliant behind her eyes again. When her release came this time, she thought she knew what to expect. But it was much different when he was with her. More powerful. More potent. And when he called out her name, and only her name, before joining her; well, her heart literally flipped over. The wealth of love that poured over her was almost overwhelming. He was hers.
And she was his. Strong arms immediately wrapped around her, pulled her over to the side so that he wasn't crushing her. Jim didn't say a word. His hands couldn't stay still. They roamed over her, every ounce of tanned skin he could get, from the top to the bottom, while his heart rate started to return to normal. Light kisses were placed on her face, her shoulders, her lips.
Trixie learned in that sweet moment that a touch could say so much more than words could. He loved her, well and truly, more than she fully realized. Tentatively, she returned the favor, hoping he would know by her touch how very much she loved and adored him. She splayed her fingers out on his bare chest, watched the muscles contract around them, and grinned, a secret little grin, before moving down to his waist.
Dear Lord but she was going to drive him crazy. He nipped an earlobe, blew a series of hot breath in her ear, and finally gathered her in his arms. "You're amazing, Beatrix Belden."
"You're lucky I'm so happy right now," she declared, jabbing a finger into his chest. "I'm going to let that Beatrix slide."
"You're happy," he repeated, resting his head on his hand and staring down at her. His lopsided grin turned feral. He had made her this happy. It was quite an empowering thought. "I'm happy you're happy."
She laid her head on his chest and rested a hand on the bed. Immediately, his fingers came up to claim it, to lace their hands together and hold on tightly. Her lips curved at the sight of his long, tanned fingers, covering her shorter ones. They belonged together. "I am happy," she said, her voice throaty and low. "It's incredible. I never thought I could be this happy."
"Me, neither," was his response. Leaning down, he placed a soft kiss on her shoulder and gathered her in his arms, in no hurry to leave the comfort of his bed. He couldn't stop touching her. His hands ran continuously up and down her back. Nothing could ever separate them. Nothing could ever break their bond. Nothing.
Special Author's Note: A great big thank you to Mylee for writing this chapter. I gave her a bare sketch of what I was looking for and she created a masterpiece. I could never have done this justice and I am so thrilled that she accepted my request. Thanks again, Mylee!