A/N: I just want to say, if you haven't seen Black Panther yet, go watch it. It's amazing. #WakandaForever :)

Also, special thanks to my beta ItsHardIKnow. Thank you for helping me editing this. Your help and support are much appreciated.

This chapter is Tobias's view on the experience they are about to share. I hope you like it.

Happy reading!

Chapter 8

Tobias

I am dizzy with longing. The moment I saw Beatrice standing in just a towel in the small hallway, something strange happened to me. I felt a surge of energy run through me, as if I was struck by lightning, right then and there, and the lethargic Tobias I used to be was gone, and this new version appeared. It was only when I saw Marcus looking at her, that I knew I had to protect her. I couldn't allow him to hurt her. She is so pure, and innocent, and strong, and kind.

And then she goes and drops her clothes in front of me. Doesn't she know what that does to me? Doesn't she know how often I wondered how she looked like underneath those gray clothes? She looks even more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. Her fair skin is giving her a special glow in the dimly lit room. Her blonde hair is framing her face, accentuating her sharp features, but most importantly her stormy gray-blue eyes. They are so full of life, holding an incandescent fire within. Her rosy lips looked so inviting, I had to bite my own to remind myself I couldn't just barge over where she stood, and kiss her despite it being the only thing on my mind.

How lucky am I? She closed the gap between us, pressing her lips to mine in a tentative, shy kiss; my first kiss. And I am sure it is hers as well. I feel unworthy of it. She deserves someone who is better, someone who isn't damaged like I am.

"I know this isn't ideal, but there's no one else I'd rather be with," she says, pulling back slightly. We rest our foreheads against the other, and I take a deep breath to steady my fast beating heart. "I care a great deal about you," she whispers, almost afraid I might find it offensive. She cares about me? Why would she care about me? I am nothing special. "I know you could do better, and be with a pretty girl instead of me," she says without looking up. What? Is she serious? Can't she see how incredibly beautiful she is?

"Beatrice," I say, and push her chin up, so that our eyes meet. She wants to look away, but I stop her from doing that, "you are the most amazing person I have ever met, and you are so beautiful that I can't imagine how you could even bring yourself to let a damaged boy like me touch you," I tell her with confidence in my voice, feeling a shiver run down my spine. How can I ever hope to be worthy of her? I wish I could leave the house, holding her hand in mine, bragging to the entire faction that this angel is my wife. I know it won't last. As soon as she can, she will leave me.

I lean in to kiss her again. I'm selfish. I don't care. Every moment I've spend with her was a moment of peace, and hope. Whenever I am around her, I feel like there could be something more to this existence than just what others expect me to be. I wish I was as strong and brave as she is. But in this moment, I am selfish. I want to hold her, to kiss her, to be with her. I want to feel alive, at least one time before I fade into nothingness.

Her lips feel so soft, and warm. They are sweet, and a little salty from her tears. I want to feel them forever. I want to be able to kiss them every day of my life.

When did this happen? When did I start to care so much about this girl? When did she become so important? I don't have the answers. All I know is she is everything to me, and I will die when she leaves me, but I will never hold her back. I will never ask of her to give up her life to stay behind with me. I am not worthy. I wish I could give her more than just the privacy of this room. I wish I could give her the time she needs to prepare herself, but I can't. I will protect her with my life. I will not allow my father to hurt her in any way. I will kill him if he ever dares touching her. The moment I saw that look on his face when she was just in that towel, I knew something evil had crossed his mind. He looked at her the way he looked at those factionless women he brought home to have sex with. I was ten or so when I first witnessed it. I came downstairs for a glass of water, and I saw him with two women. The moment he noticed me, he sent me to my room, and once the women were gone, he beat me up like never before. I shudder at the memory.

Beatrice pulls away, and I look into her eyes. They are determined, and all I want is to get lost in them.

"Tobias, I trust you," she tells me reassuringly, a small smile grazing her features, "yes, we need to do this, but I also want this." I give her an incredulous look. She sighs, "Obviously, I wanted it to be more special, but I want to be with someone who cares enough about me, to make sure I'm comfortable. We just need to figure out what to do," she says shyly, and looks away. Our inexperience might be problematic, but at the same time I find it the most wonderful thing in the world that we will give our first time to the other. Whatever happens after this tonight is all about her. I want her to feel special, and cherished, because she deserves it.

We both stand up, and slowly I remove my clothes, while Beatrice watches me. I feel so exposed as I let my shirt fall down. She has already seen the damage my father inflicted upon me, and she never shied away. I tell myself over and over again to be brave, just like she is. Be brave like Beatrice. I drop my gray pants, and stand before her just in my boxers. I look at her, and swallow past the lump in my throat. I wish I could tell her how much she means to me. How deep my feelings for her go. How much I long to touch, and hold her, kiss, and love her.

I pull her closer to me, our skin touches for the very first time. I fear that she might pull back repulsed, but instead she surprises me like so many times before. She wraps her arms around my neck, and plants her lips on mine again. I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her flush against me. I have no idea how my body knows what to do, because not only is my mind unfamiliar to what I am supposed to do, but I feel like I am floating.

When we finally pull away for air, we both smile goofily. That was amazing. I've never felt so alive, and all we did is kiss so I decide to do it again. And again. And again.

I have no idea how, but we end up lying on the bed, with me hovering over her. I look her in the eyes, silently asking her permission to proceed. I had only learned a few things in school about reproduction, and I had heard a few things in the boys' bathroom over the years. Usually, the boys from other factions would brag about this and that, and while I never thought this would ever happen to me, I listened. And I'm glad I did.

I recall how they talked about getting the girl ready, especially when it's her first time. How touching her nether region would make her wet, and ready for the sexual act. I hadn't quite understood what that meant at the time, until a few months later when one boy, seemingly just as naïve as I was, asked for clarification. I was grateful now that that boy's friends decided to give him a very detailed description of what to do with a virgin girl.

"I will try to get you ready," I start saying, and Beatrice nods her head nervously, "if I hurt you or you want to stop, you just have to say so." I wait for her to nod again, and once she does, I allow my right hand to cup her face. I bend down to capture her lips again, and kiss her lovingly. I hold myself up on my left arm bend at the elbow, so that my weight isn't on her.

"I don't know what to do," she tells me shyly. I smile at her.

"I don't know much, either, just some things I overheard boys talk about," I tell her, and feel a slight blush creep into my cheeks.

My hand leaves her face and I slowly drag it down her neck, her collar, then to her chest. I stop over the left mound, and gently start massaging it. Almost instantly, Beatrice squirms, and I think she might not like it. I then see her face, and her eyes are closed, her mouth slightly agape, and a smile forming on her lips. She likes it. Emboldened by her reaction, I cup her breast and start kneading the soft flesh. It feels divine, and all I want to do is kiss it. So, I do. I kiss every inch of it, until only the pink little nipple is left. I suck it gently into my mouth, eliciting soft moans from her. Every time I try something new, I watch her reaction, and when she seems satisfied by what I'm doing, I try something else.

I pay an equal amount of attention to both her breasts, until they've been thoroughly kneaded and kissed. I kiss a wet trail down to her naval, where I boldly stick my tongue in. Beatrice groans, and her hands reach into my hair. She starts kneading the scalp, tugging lightly at the short hair. Her actions remind me of a kitten getting comfortable on a new bed, and I grin to myself.

As I pass her stomach, I reach the hem of her plain gray underwear. I feel myself harden when the scent of her arousal hits me. I don't even look up anymore. I just hook my fingers underneath the waistband, and pull them down her slender legs, until the garment lies on the floor somewhere behind me.

I run my hand up and down her left thigh, each time I go up, I gently push her legs apart. Now I finally understand what the boys in school talked about. The anticipation of being with Beatrice has me on edge. My rational thought seems to have left me each time I do something new to her, and she doesn't stop me. It is as if she challenges me to go further, always further. Looking down at her sloppy slit, I feel aroused beyond expectation. I had touched myself more than once before Beatrice came to live in this house, but since then it has become a daily ritual. She is more often than not on my mind, and it frightens me how much I care about her.

I push these thoughts away and reach out my hand to touch her hairy little womanhood. I rub my hand up and down, hearing even deeper moans from her. My fingers tentatively look for the little bundle of nerves I know is hiding behind her blonde bush, and once I find it, I start circling it with my finger. Beatrice's eyes are closed, and she holds her hand over her mouth, as her moans and groans increase in volume. Her hips start gyrating, and I know I am doing something right. I boldly push one finger into her core, very slowly, and very carefully. I watch her reaction to the invasion, and when she doesn't push my hand away, I go deeper. I start to slowly move my finger in and out of her core, creating a pleasant friction. I watch as she grabs the sheets and squeezes them so tightly that her knuckles turn white. I remember the boys at school saying something about loosening the girl up. Until now, I didn't understand what that meant. Beatrice is evidently very tight down there, and I know how big I am. Whether or not she will be wet enough or loose enough, it will still hurt her, and I hate myself for that. I add a second finger, and her eyebrows furrow, her nose scrunches and a little groan escapes her mouth. I stop momentarily, but then her eyes flutter open.

"Don't stop," she says, looking at me with half-lidded eyes. I nod, chuckling quietly.

I resume what I was doing, increasing the pace ever so slightly. I feel her womanhood overflow with her love juices, and the walls of her vagina clenching down on my fingers. Acting solely on instinct, I increase my pace yet again, and as I breathe in the uniquely scent that is Beatrice, I feel her release. I look up and see her bite her hand, trying to avoid crying out.

I remove my fingers from her hot, wet core, and for some odd reason, lick them clean. The moment my tongue touches her essence, I feel like I was just given some divine food. She tastes incredible. If she ever allows me to do this again, I want to taste her, all of her.

I realize that now is the perfect time to take her virginity. She is high from her orgasm, she is wet, and I am more than ready. I need to be inside her.

I pull down my boxers, toss them away, and climb back into bed. I settle between her parted legs, and position myself at her entrance. I look her in the eyes and lean down to kiss her.

"This will hurt, but maybe with the wetness down there it'll be easier," I inform her, and she takes a deep breath before nodding.

I slowly push inside, not wanting to hurt her, but before I can even find a steady movement to enter her for the first time, she grasps my hand to look at her.

"Please, do it quickly. Don't prolong the pain," she requests. I search her eyes and nod my head in agreement. Maybe she is right. I watch her as she holds both her hands over her mouth, and when she gives me a final nod, I thrust fully into her body, until there is nothing of me left outside.

I hear her cry out into her palm, and tears start streaming down her face. I lean down to kiss her all over her face. I know I've hurt her, and she needs some time to adjust to my length and girth. She is so tight though, that I'm afraid if I don't pull out soon I will come before I can even make love to her.

It takes her several long minutes before she moves her hips, signaling me she is ready. When she removes her hands from her mouth, I bend forward to kiss her lips again. I apologize to her for hurting her, but she just shakes her head.

"I'm really glad it's you," she whispers, before clenching down on my shaft, making me pull back.

Soon, we start moving against each other, our bodies becoming one, our hearts beating in sync, our souls forever united in this moment. I am making love to Beatrice, and the feeling is so wonderful I want to cry with happiness.

A/N: Reviews as always appreciated. I would love to hear your thoughts.