I haven't had sex before. In fact, Daniel was the first guy I'd ever kissed. I didn't know if I was ready. What if he asked? How would I turn him down? I didn't even know how to do these things.
That evening, when my parents were out, there was a soft knock at the door. I peeked through the peephole and saw Daniel holding a small bouquet of flowers and a bag that looked way too full of goodies.
"Hey," he said, stepping inside, his grin making my stomach do that ridiculous flip-flop thing again.
"You're spoiling me," I said, gesturing at the bag.
"I just want to take care of my baby," he replied, winking.
He set the bag down on the counter, and I couldn't help but peek inside. Chocolates, snacks, and even a little box of macaroons. I grabbed one of the chocolates, unwrapped it, and popped it in my mouth. I wasn't paying attention, and a tiny smudge of chocolate clung to the corner of my lips.
Daniel leaned in, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Something tells me you're not ready to fight me off."
His eyes weren't focused on my face, but on the corner of my mouth. A slow, intense heat began to radiate from him.
"You missed a spot," he said, his voice dropping to a low, seductive rumble.
Before I could reach up to wipe the smudge, Daniel was leaning in. It wasn't a kiss yet. His head tilted slightly, and his tongue brushed the corner of my lip, a deliberate, slow, shocking lick that scooped up the rogue piece of chocolate.
My breath hitched. The taste of salt, chocolate, and Daniel was an intoxicating cocktail.
He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, ensuring he had my full attention, my full consent. Then he lowered his mouth to mine.
The kiss started soft, tentative, but it quickly deepened. His hands framed my face, tilting my head gently as he angled the kiss, demanding a response I was desperately eager to give.
Then, his lips parted. He slid his tongue into my mouth.
My entire body went rigid. In my head, I'm tense! How do they even kiss with tongue? What do I do? The panic was immediate. I hadn't practiced this particular maneuver with anyone.
But Daniel wasn't demanding or forceful. He was slow, patient, and warm. I didn't pull away; I forced myself to relax and just played along. I mimicked the texture, the gentle play of our tongues, and after a few moments of awkward stiffness, I found a rhythm. I realized I did a pretty great job, because I later got a hang of it.
When he finally broke the kiss, we were both breathless.
Daniel smiled. He ran his thumb across my swollen bottom lip. "You're a natural."
I felt my cheeks flush scarlet. He was spoiling me with food and honesty, and now, with this devastating attention.
He signaled for me to climb onto his lap. I did, turning to face him, my thighs straddling his. The hard, masculine heat beneath me was immediately evident, making my breath catch.
His hands, steady and strong, slid under the hem of my loose, oversized t-shirt. He didn't rush. He simply pulled the fabric up, raising it over my hips and waist, placing my tee under his head as he pulled it higher.
Now, his face was buried in my chest, muffled by the soft cotton.
I felt a sudden, shocking warmth bloom directly on my nipple, quickly spreading outward. He wasn't just resting his head; he was gently sucking and drawing on the sensitive peak. A muffled sound escaped my throat, and I couldn't control myself. My toes began curling tightly.
His fingers, meanwhile, were busy. His thumb was caressing the other nipple through while his whole hand was groping my breast gently but firmly at the same time. The combination of wet heat and rhythmic pressure was almost too much. I gripped his shoulders, breathing in ragged, broken gasps.
He finally let his head emerge from beneath the shirt. His eyes were glazed, and his lips were glistening.
"Did you like that?" he asked, his voice low and ragged.
I couldn't speak. I just nodded, my face feeling scorched and flushed crimson from the sudden, intense pleasure.
He searched my eyes for a long moment, the tenderness returning, overriding the lust. "Are you ready for sex?" he asked, his hands resting on my hips, gentle but firm.
The question—direct, respectful, utterly serious—was a lifeline.
I shook my head slowly, still unable to find my voice. "No," I finally managed.
Daniel smiled, a beautiful, genuine smile of understanding. He gently kissed my forehead. "No worries. Take your time. I should have asked earlier. I'm not going anywhere."
He pulled my t-shirt back down, covering my chest, ending the intimate moment with a final, sweet kiss to my lips. The abrupt return to normalcy was almost jarring.
We spent the next hour sprawled on the couch in the media room, eating more snacks and watching a movie. With his arm securely around me, I slowly relaxed, the combination of sugar, warmth, and trust lulling me into a deep, safe sleep.
When I woke up much later, the movie credits were rolling, the apartment was dark, and Daniel was gone. I felt a sharp pang of disappointment, but then I spotted a neat piece of paper tucked under my hand.
He had left a cute note behind: See you tomorrow, sleepy head. Call me when you wake up. D.
My body was aching, my lips were bruised, and my heart was full. It was a perfect make-out session, and I wanted more.