Authors: Kimberly Kaye Terry
“Sweetheart, no one’s ever done that for you?”
Maya came back to herself and was a bit shamed at what she’d allowed him to do. She
knew she was a grown woman and had nothing to be ashamed of, but there it was. She was
embarrassed. “No. No one ever has.”
“Look at me. It’s not a crime, but I need to know something else. Has any man ever made
love to you?” He gently lifted her chin to see her face better.
“I think you already know the answer. I’ve never made love to anyone. I’ve never felt
comfortable enough with anyone to share my body with them,” Maya told him, feeling
vulnerable and exposed. She was telling him more than she’d ever told another man--allowing him inside her body and her mind. The thought scared her.
“There’s nothing wrong with that. I’ve got to be honest and say words can’t describe how
it makes me feel that I’m your first. That you trust me.” He kissed her, and she could taste her essence in his mouth.
She touched the dark hair that fell into his eyes, before resting her hand on his chest.
Taking a deep breath she came to a decision. “I want you to make love to me, Mark. Fully. I’m not afraid.”
Mark sat up and removed the rest of his clothes without hesitation. Before he discarded
his slacks he reached over and extracted the small square foil package from his pocket.
“Are you sure about this?”
“I trust you.”
Those three words mobilized him into lifting her small body up and over his. Her face
was pressed deep into his chest, as he ran his hands through her hair, loosening the pins, allowing the thick mass of curls to tumble down around her shoulders and back.
“Thank you.” He paused and placed the side of his face against hers, pressing a kiss
against her temple. The caress so sweet and spontaneous, Maya felt her heart expand in her
chest.
He lay her back down against the lightweight brightly patterned quilt. With leisure, he
made his way up her body, pausing to deliver a hot kiss and sweet caress along the way.
When Mark reached her face, he took it between his hands and seized her lips with his,
and then sucked her bottom lip. Damn he loved her mouth. It was so plump; it was like sucking on a juicy grape.
He cupped her breasts as he kissed her, kneading and caressing them as he tugged on her
nipples. His hands traveled down the length of her body, along her sides, back toward her belly, before resting at the small triangular thatch of curls.
Separating the folds, he massaged the small nub with featherlight touches that had her
arching her body closer to his. He glided one of his big fingers in her vagina. As he started playing with her clit, he pushed another finger into the small wet opening. He loved the sound of her responding groan.
She was stretched taut as her inner muscles clamped down on his finger, clenching and
releasing it in pulsating spasms. His body hardened more as he thought of how it would feel to have that tight grip on his cock.
“Sweetheart, I want your first experience with me to be good. Trust me?” He pleaded,
and was satisfied when she nodded.
Using the pads of his fingers to scrape up and over her clit, the palm of his other hand
pressed down above her pelvic bone in orchestrated rhythm with his thumb, as Mark prepared
her for what he had in store for her.
It wasn’t long before her frantic movements against his hands reached the point of no
return. Head thrown back, she uttered a keening moan that grew in tempo and endurance,
culminating into one long wailing sob of release.
After her body had calmed, he turned her to place in front of him, as she was boneless in
her repletion. One of his hands cupped her quivering mound, and the other cupped the fullness of one breast. As he held her shaking body tight, he felt as though he had experienced the orgasm along with her.
“God, baby, you’re beautiful.” He groaned on a long breath, holding back the cum
stealing up from his balls.
“Thank you. I can’t believe how good that felt. But what about you? This may be my first
time, but I know you didn’t get much out of it.”
He kissed the back of her neck, and her body’s response to the simple caress gave graphic
testimony he’d only given her a sample of what was to come.
He picked up the foil package from the nightstand and tore it open with his teeth, never
taking his eyes away from her. Her eyes followed his hands as he rolled the condom down the long, thick length of his cock. He rolled her beneath him, and inch by inch pressed into her welcoming warmth.
Her body received the stiff, foreign rod until he hit the thin barrier, and her small
whimper made him come to a halt.
“It’s okay, baby. We’ll go real slow. I’ll take good care of you. I promise.” Testing the
strength of the barrier, he rocked back and forth in shallow, rhythmic strokes.
He took both of her hands in his and placed them high above her head as he forged ahead,
tearing through her maidenhead. When she uttered a cry of distress, he covered her mouth with his and held his body still, allowing her to grow used to the unfamiliar fullness in her body.
Eventually her muscles relaxed, and he felt her slick sheath tighten once again on him.
“Are you okay?” he asked on a groan. When she nodded, he couldn’t hold back anymore.
Their tongues clashed as they met, their mutual touch so hot, he pinned her hips to the
bed, and with a groan, deepened his strokes, rocking the bed with his strong thrusts. When she moaned, turning her head helplessly on the feather pillow, he licked his fingers and reached between them, found her clit, and tortured the small nub until she broke, sobs wracking her small frame.
“Oh God, Mark. Oh God. What are you doing?” She begged and panted at the same time.
He could feel the orgasm start in his balls as soon as she screamed her release. As he
glided in and out of her, his thrusts growing stronger and stronger, he rocked into her steadily, until finally, he threw back his head, his neck muscles standing out in stark relief. “Maya, Maya!” He yelled her name on a long harsh groan as he came.
He collapsed on top of her after his shattering climax. He rolled onto his back, putting her on top of his chest as he snuggled her against him. Rubbing his hand over her head, he smoothed it away from her face and placed small kisses at the top of her head. After a few moments, he could speak again.
“That was wonderful, Maya. Thank you.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he didn’t
feel they were adequate enough to express the feelings their lovemaking had given him.
When she didn’t speak, he realized something was wrong. It was strange and new to him,
but he felt as though the two of them had their own private wavelength, able to sense and detect things about the other no one else could.
He turned her around so they were facing one another in order to get a better look at her
facial expressions.
“Maya, I want you to know what we shared was beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. I
know you’re not very experienced in this, so I want you to understand this was unique and
special, and you have nothing to feel shame about, okay?”
“I know I shouldn’t feel shame, and I don’t. I’m 30 years old, Mark, and although I’m
probably the last living thirty-year-old virgin in the city…” She stopped and rephrased her statement, after he gave her a small grin. “I
was
the last thirty-year-old virgin. But although I’d never had sex before, I knew the mechanics. I never thought it would feel like this. I need a minute to adjust. Which is kind of hard to do when the cause of all these feelings is staring me in the face,” she laughed shakily.
“I understand your feelings, baby. Why don’t I go and get a small towel and help you
wash up.” He delivered a small kiss to the corner of her mouth before he left the bed. Although conflicting feelings were ripping through her, that didn’t stop Maya from admiring his round muscular butt as he unashamedly padded naked to the bathroom, discarding the spent condom
when he passed the small trashcan.
When he returned, he washed her with the warm towel, concentrating on the small area
where she was bound to be the most sore. After he finished, he lay down beside her, pulled the quilt over their cooled bodies, and closed his eyes. His last waking thoughts were of the woman who lay in front of him; glad she’d come into his life.
In the morning, as he opened his eyes, Mark reached blindly in front of him expecting to
feel Maya’s small, warm body. Instead, his hand closed around empty space. With a
disappointed groan, he raised his body from the bed and scratched his bare chest.
A tantalizing smell made its way through the bedroom, and as he looked around, he spied
his slacks from the previous night and left the bed to put them on. After locating his undershirt, he walked out with it dangling from his hands.
As he walked into the kitchen, he heard Maya laughing in response to another familiar
voice’s husky comment. Before he could retreat, the owner of the voice had already spotted him.
Mark stood in the doorway and saw Dalia’s gaze take him in, from the bottom of his bare
feet up to his bare chest. In his hand dangled the undershirt, which he’d neglected to put on.
With a mental shrug, he forged into the room and walked over to Maya. He pulled her
slight frame up and with her toes barely reaching the floor, gave her a very thorough, very hot morning kiss. “Good morning, baby,” he said, and set her back down before he turned his
attention to Dalia.
“Good morning, Dalia,” he said with a small grin.
“Good morning, Detective.”
“Please call me Mark.”
“Good morning, Mark.” Dalia acted as though it was nothing out of the ordinary to see a
half-naked man in Maya’s kitchen.
Turning to Maya, she said, “I thank you for the coffee, and I will speak with you later.”
With a meaningful look, Dalia snatched up the small baggie of coffee grinds and left them alone.
Mark had casually walked away, pulled the T-shirt over his head, and adjusted his pants.
He made his way toward the brewing coffee and poured a steaming cup. He took a healthy
swallow before turning back to Maya.
“When I reached out this morning, I was hoping to feel your warm body. And when I
didn’t, I followed my nose to the kitchen smells. I didn’t know Dalia was here until it was too late. Had I known, then I would have put more clothes on.” He was trying to gauge her feelings, wondering how she felt about last night. But she wasn’t giving him any clues from her
expression.
“I’m sure it’s not the first naked male chest Dalia’s seen. But I’m not too sure I’d like her to have a repeat viewing of yours.”
The telling comment registered in Mark’s brain. He didn’t think she knew what her
words showed, but he did. Satisfied, he placed his cup down on the table and walked over to where she stood in front of the marble counter. He leaned over her shoulder and took an
appreciative whiff of the steaming plates of food in her hands.
“This smells delicious sweetheart. Do you like to cook?” he asked, taking the plates and
placing them on the small table.
“I don’t know if I
like
to. Well let me rephrase it. I usually don’t have the need to cook.
I’m at Imani House most of the time, at least during most of my meal times, and Jorge is such a marvelous cook, I eat there. You know how it is when you’re trying to cook for one,” she
laughed. After she sat down, placing both juice and coffee on the table, she continued with a bittersweet smile, “As a child I did a lot of cooking for Allison and myself.”
Mark encouraged her to continue. “Oh really, why was that? Didn’t your foster mother
know how?”
“It wasn’t that she didn’t know how. She used to cook for her boyfriend all the time.
When it came to cooking for Ally and me, it was up to me, or we’d go without. After a few
misses and a few burns, I learned how to make the basics. From there, I experimented and
expanded my limited repertoire. I found I liked cooking, and had a knack for it,” she said, with a smug smile.
After taking a bite of the egg quiche, he agreed with her assessment, as the cheesy egg
confection melted in his mouth.
“Definitely. If this is an example of your cooking, than I’d say you
definitely
have a knack for it.” Mark thought back to his conversation with Jordan. “Maya, we’ve talked about so many things in our lives. But we’ve never spoken too much about race.” He wasn’t sure how to start.
“What do you mean?” When she looked at him, he saw a spark of something in her eyes
before she looked back down at her plate.
“Well, I know you and Ally were raised in foster care. How was that? Were you treated
differently?”
“Because I’m black?” she asked bluntly.
“Yes. Because of that.” He didn’t shy away from the bald statement.
Maya brought the coffee to her mouth and took a small swallow before answering. “To
be honest, Melissa treated us both pretty badly. But I believe she had more issues with me
because of my heritage.” Even though she wasn’t looking at him he could feel the pain come
through in her voice.
“Because you’re biracial?” he guessed.
She nodded her head, her expression thoughtful as she answered. “She’d make fun of my
hair. She was constantly threatening to cut it. She’d call it a nappy nest, all kinds of things. ”
“But your hair is beautiful,” Mark protested. He reached across the table to finger one of
the curls, before letting it fall back into place. Maya’s hair was one of the first things he noticed when he first saw her sitting outside the lieutenant’s office.