I whimper in desperation. His fingers are drawing slow circles around my clit, teasing and taunting the sensitive area, purposely not giving me what I need.

"Jacob," I whine lowly. "Stop playing around and fucking touch me. Please."

He swipes briskly across the engorged nub with a finger, and I moan loudly. I shut my mouth with a hand to keep from screaming down the place. There's no way Holly heard me from downstairs, right?

"Is this what you need, Amara?" he whispers in question against my ear. "You crave my hands inside your tight cunt, don't you, sweetheart?"

I nod repeatedly, still reeling from the pleasure that flows through me as his fingers keep working on my clit. When one finger slides into my sleek, tight hole, I wail behind my hands.

"Fuck. You're so fucking tight, Amara." He slides the finger in deeper, his thumb now the assailant that's inducing the sweet agony at my core.

"You're going to let me push my cock inside this tight hole, aren't you?"

I nod once again, not even thinking hard about the question. I completely bypass the fact that the penis of no one other than Jacob Withers would be inside me, that he's supposed to be my arch-nemesis, or that he would be my first.

Yes, yes, and forever yes. I want him to fuck me.

It might be the rashest, most regretful decision I'll ever make, but damn it, I want it so bad I almost feel like crying at the thought of denying myself of it.

"Amara." He warns me once again, his eyes looking darker than I've ever seen them. "You let me inside of you and there's no going back."

Oh fuck, I'm so close. I move my hips against his hand, needing the release. He grunts and increases the speed of both the thumb that circles my clit and the finger inside me.

"You're already mine, Amara. But once you let me fuck you, once I'm inside you, I'm never letting you go."

Instead of being disturbed by his outrageous promise, his harsh whisper against my ear only works to make me more crazed. And as his fingers continue their assault, I tremble harder than I've ever in my life as I reach my climax.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

I am dead. There's no way I'm still among the land of the living. Not with the way I feel like I'm floating in outer space. This is not a regular old orgasm because it has never felt like this when I've achieved one with my own hands.

And Saturday it was incredible, but it was as monumental because things hadn't fully changed yet. Something has changed now.

This is death. There's no other way to describe it.

I'm still breathing deeply, trying to actually get some air in so I don't die when Jacob leans back to just stare at me.

"You're so fucking beautiful, sweetheart." I watch him as he licks off the fingers that were just inside of me. "And fuck, you taste delicious too."

Smiling shyly, I push up on the bed so I can unbutton my collared shirt. "That was incredible. Thank you."

He doesn't say anything, only follows my every movement with keen focus. I bite my lower lip, nervous to get naked in front of him but reassured by his complete mesmerized look as my white lace bra comes into view.

Doing it quickly so I don't overthink it, I remove the uniform shirt and throw it to my right on the floor. He stands up so he's at the foot of the bed as I slide off my loafers and move up the soft mattress.

He's still silent, his eyes roaming all over my body and devouring every inch of my skin with a wildness that scares me a bit.

Except for my bra, I'm naked in his bed. I've never been almost naked in a man's bed before. My nipples harden at the way he stares at me and my breasts feel heavier.

I lean on my left elbow, kneading my hands together in anxiousness. "Jacob?"

I'm not fully sure he hears me, but his fists tighten at his sides. Other than that, he doesn't move one inch. For some reason, he's keeping himself from touching me. Almost like he can't believe I'm actually giving myself to him.

Wanting his touch on me, I say the hell with my shyness, and just get up so I'm standing inches from him. He still doesn't move, so I use that to my advantage and slide my hands underneath his T-shirt.

"Remove my bra, Jacob. I need you to touch me. Please." I almost don't recognize my voice due to how low and sultry it is.

I press against him and tilt my head up so our faces are only a breath apart, our eyes both filled with lust as we understand the gravity of this moment.

No matter how hard I've tried to ignore it, this has been a long time coming. A really, really long time coming.

"You're even more stunning than I imagined, Amara," he rasps out, his tense hands cupping my ass cheeks and bringing me closer to him.

"Take off your clothes, Jacob," I plead, growing lightheaded at the feeling of his greedy hands trailing up my back to unhook my bra.

I let the lace material fall to the floor and barely have enough time to comprehend what's happening before his hot mouth is on one of my nipples.

"Holy fuck," I ground out, trying to slide down his basketball shorts my own damn self since he is obviously too busy to do it himself.

He gives equal attention to both of the hardened nipples, driving me wild with how ferociously concentrated he is on sucking and biting them. Still, I'm determined to get him naked, too.

By some sort of miracle, I'm able to slide both his shorts and boxers off simultaneously. I almost cry in sadness when he detaches his mouth from my mounds, but I smile when I see it's only so he can step out of the shorts and take his shirt off.

Fucking finally.

I can't help but take him all in, not believing how incredibly beautiful he is. He says I'm perfect, but really, he is. I try not to cower at how different our bodies are.

He's all hard lines and muscles, his skin pale and dusted with light brown hairs. While, on the other side, I'm all soft spots and curved lines, my skin a dark mahogany brown.

Despite how much I've tried to work out over the years, I haven't been able to flatten my stomach just yet. It's all that damn pasta, I swear.

Jacob stops my ogling when he cups my face and inclines my head so my eyes are on his. "There's no going back now, Amara."

I nod, fully aware of what this means. My hands go to his stiff member of their volition. "Yes, I understand."

He hisses as I peruse the silky skin of his thick cock. "Good girl." Then he captures my mouth once again.

I barely register how we make it to the bed, my brain too fuzzy and delirious to fully comprehend anything that's happening beyond Jacob's lips against mine.

When I'm sprawled out in the middle of the bed, he breaks the kiss and leans back a bit to simply watch me once again, fisting his cock slowly. He's well endowed, and suddenly, I'm wondering how in the living hell he's going to fit inside me.

"I-It's not going to fit," I mutter, staring at it with a bit of fear.

He shakes his head, his eyes all over my body. "Yes, it will, sweetheart. It'll fit perfectly because it's always belonged in you."

"I'm a virgin," I sputter out, gripping his sheets when he freezes.

"Thank God you are," he exhales, sounding relieved. "I thought I was going to have to potentially hunt down a sneaky motherfucker or two."

I can't hold back the smile at how absurd he is. "Well, who are the sneaky bitches I have to hunt down?" I tease. Joking, but also definitely not joking.

The sly smirk on his face annoys me as he pumps his cock a couple more times then leans towards me.

Oh, I'm cutting a bitch. Or two. Or several.

He positions his stiffness at my entrance, slowly rubbing his head against my drenched womanhood. Up and down. Up and down. A loud moan escapes me, but before it can resound all the way downstairs to poor Holly, his hand covers my mouth.

A smirk plays on his lips at how much of a screamer I am. I can tell he likes it. He likes that his touch causes such a potent reaction from me.

"You won't have to waste your time going hunting, baby. Because you'll be the first one. The only one." His voice is low and deep, but still casual as if he didn't just drop a bomb on me.

Jacob Withers is a virgin? What the actual fuck?!

Maybe I'm being foolish by simply believing what he's saying, but I truly don't think he's lying. Jacob isn't scared of being who he is and owning his shit, so I know he wouldn't deceive me like this.

"How?" I manage to question beneath his hand, still enraptured by how close he is to being inside of me.

He's closer to me when he murmurs, "I don't see anyone else but you, Amara. To me, every other woman is a fucking shadow while you're the damn sun. My sun."

Oh.

Don't cry, Amara. Don't cry, Amara. Don't you fucking dare burst out in tears as he's about to be inside you, Amara.

He removes his hand from my mouth and kisses me slowly as he eases inside my tight, wet hole.

Holy shit. It fucking hurts.

I try to hold on to his arm to alleviate some of the pain I feel, but with a swift move, he stretches my arms above my head and pins them to the bed.

"Fuck, baby. You're squeezing the hell out of me and it's the best fucking thing ever."

His strangled words are so fucking hot that I feel myself growing even wetter. But still, a hissing pain washes through me as he slides in deeper.

"It hurts, Jacob. It hurts so fucking much," I rasp out.

"Fuck, sweetheart. I'm sorry." He slides in slower, burying his face in my neck. "I promise I'll be more gentle."

The sweet kisses he lays on my neck distract me a bit from the searing ache, and I try to relax as his full length finally settles inside me.

"You're incredible, Amara." He seems to be holding himself back from moving fast inside me, letting me adjust to his size instead.

I cry out loudly when he bites down on the flesh of my neck, following up with soothing licks that glide along the bitten area.

He does this several more times as he lets me adjust to him, and by the time he's about to do it a fourth time, I'm close to passing out.

I move my hips up to get him to move. "Fuck me, Jacob," I command, my tone clearly impatient and needy.

He doesn't need to be told twice, still holding my arms pinned down with one of his hands, he starts pounding in and out of me.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," I moan out as he slams deep into me.

It still hurts a bit, and seeming to be aware of this, Jacob's other hand moves to distract me from the ache by pleasuring my clit.

"Fuck, Amara." His expression is one of pure ecstasy and possessiveness as he watches me. "Do you feel how perfectly we fit, sweetheart?"

I nod because, fucking hell, I do feel it.

There are no adequate words to capture how right his cock inside me feels. Later, I'll sit and contemplate on a better word, but for now, only one word seems to come to mind.

Breathtaking.

"This pussy is mine, Amara. Only fucking mine."

Because I find it hard to use my mouth to do anything but moan and whimper, I simply nod again at his claims.

"Say it, Amara. I need to hear you say it out loud," he presses, his balls slapping against my skin as he hammers into me.

It takes me a couple of seconds to gather my thoughts. "I'm y-yours. This pussy is yours." It's hard to speak coherently due to the way he's slamming into me, but I manage to strew a sentence together.

Somehow, his strokes grow even more visceral at my words. And once again, I have died and gone to heaven. My eyes roll back in my head.

I'm close. So fucking close to erupting once again. I know he is too.

He keeps on his assault, and I keep trying to save myself from the brink of madness, praying for mercy as Jacob doesn't let up.

"I'm going to fill you up with my cum, Amara. And you're going to take it all, hear me, sweetheart?" he questions against my ear, sounding ready to lose it.

I don't even think, just nod and mumble a response I don't register, letting my depravity take over the little common sense I have left.

We've never been taught the different ways that death takes a hold of us. Because I always believed that death would be horrifying, swift, and merciless.

But there's more. What I feel right now isn't frightening. Even as I've just lost my life, that is, my old way of existing, I'm free. Perhaps, there's a form of death that isn't morbid and petrifying.

Maybe, there's a type of death that leads to a rebirth. And fuck, the rebirth is oh so marvelous.

As I feel Jacob's release shoot through my insides, warming them up, I question what death really is. I can barely get my thoughts together, though, because a second later, I'm quacking as my own release washes through me.

There are no words or movements as we both gaze at each other, trying to comprehend what the fuck just happened.

Is this how sex is supposed to feel? Like you've totally surrendered the worst and best parts of yourself to the other person? Like they can see you? Like truly, actually see you?

Because if it is, I'm not sure how some people can have it with more than one person. The fact that Jacob has access to so much of me right now scares the hell out of me. It's a comforting sort of fear, but it's fear nonetheless.

No, there's no way it feels like this for everyone. The world would be in flames if it did. I'm sure of it.

I'm the first one to break eye contact, looking down to where our bodies connect, observing as the evidence of his climax trickles down the insides of my thighs.

I don't think that Jacob still knows what to say, too busy catching his breath and digesting all that just happened.

My eyes are still on my thighs, noting the stark contrast in color between my flesh and his sperm.

His sperm.

The word keeps ringing in my frenzied brain, alarming me for some reason that I can't figure out until my mind drags me back to the fourth grade. It was then that we'd taken a sexual reproduction course.

"When a man ejaculates and his sperm is released inside the woman's vagina, there's a possibility that she will fall pregnant."

It's the words of Mrs. Greene, my fourth-grade science teacher, that wake me up from the sex-induced madness I've been in this whole time.

Like I said, this might be the rashest, most regretful decision I've ever made. Not necessarily letting Jacob inside me, but the fact that I didn't remind him to wrap it up.

He didn't use a condom. And I let him inside of me.

"Jacob," I start, my voice panicked. "W-We didn't use protection."

He slides out of me when I start squirming. Still, he doesn't let my arms go, keeping them pinned up against the bed while he keeps staring at me. No panic in his eyes.

"We're both clean," he says, stating the fucking obvious.

"I'm not on birth control." My eyes are wide as hell, and my chest moves up and down way too quickly.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I can't risk being pregnant. I can barely take care of myself, how would I ever take care of a whole baby?!

And my parents. My hard-working, loving, and supporting parents. How would I ever be able to tell them that I'm not only carrying a baby but that I'm carrying a Withers?

I could never.

"You love kids," Jacob says, still not showing one ounce of fear. "You would be a great mom."

I would hit him, but the fact that he holds my hands in place makes it very difficult for me to slap some sense into him.

"No, I wouldn't! I would actually be horrible, Jacob!" I'm hysterical now, tears working themselves up to my eyes.

"Sweetheart, don't cry," he begs, finally looking worried. But not about the fact that I may be getting pregnant with his child this very moment, rather that I'm on the verge of bursting into tears.

Finally, he lets go of my hands and I dart up the bed, not even knowing exactly what to do.

I need to do something, though. Anything. Maybe look up: ways to not get pregnant after a boy who's supposed to be your nemesis shoots up his sperm inside you when you're not on birth control.

I almost run to grab my phone to look up that very thing, but I'm stopped by Jacob's hand on my wrist. He drags me backward until my naked back is pressed against his identically naked front.

"Calm down, sweetheart. You're okay." He gently rubs my stomach. "It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, KitKat," he whispers close to my ear.

Randomly, my hysteria seizes. No thanks to Jacob's words, but because I remember that we're not totally doomed. In the depths of my despair, I've forgotten about the day after pill.

I let go of my fright with a deep exhale. Oh, thank the Heavens for the invention of the day after pill. Folks without common sense all over the world must be grateful for it every day.

Turning around, I slap Jacob on his sordid chest. "You should have wrapped up, you brute!" I yell as if I'm not as much in the wrong as he is.

And the motherfucker just laughs. He actually fucking laughs. I swear I almost hit him again, but I decide to spare him so I can clean up instead.

I rush to the door I assume leads to the ensuite restroom, opening it up to reveal just what I'm looking for. Hastily, I clean up with some damp toilet paper knowing that I'll shower as soon as I get the chance.

It's my ringing phone that has me storming out of the bathroom back to the bedroom while ignoring Jacob who is leaning against the bathroom's doorframe in all his naked glory.

I fight the urge to do damage to his sculpted body and lean down to pick up my skirt instead. I swipe my phone from the pocket and wince when I see who's calling.

My mother.

That woman has powers, I'm telling you. I bet she legitimately knows that I've just been doing something I'm not supposed to be doing, hence the call.

"It's my mom." I look up, making eye contact with Jacob. "She knows I'm out of N&B right now, I have to answer."

He simply nods, not even attempting to give me some space. I sigh and just move to take a seat on the bed. I answer the call and put it on speaker, not even caring that Jacob can hear our conversation.

This man has been inside me. A simple phone call with my mom isn't going to be such a huge breach of privacy at this point.

"Amara," my mom answers, letting me know what type of call this is.

I grimace internally but put on my best cheery voice. "Mommy!"

"Don't mommy me, girl," she snaps. "I know that you didn't sleepover at Rochelle's yesterday. I just talked to Selah. I know that she didn't go through some nasty breakup that you had to comfort her. So start fessing up, young lady."

Ms. Selah is Rochelle and Kelvin's mother. She's good friends with my mother, I probably should have expected her to find out, guess I was too busy thinking with the horny side of my brain.

I frown, more annoyed than scared that my mom found the lie out. My eyes connect with Jacob's and I flip him off when I see that he's laughing silently at the predicament that I'm currently in.

"Dick," I mouth, fighting a stupid grin.

"You love my dick," he mouths back, still chuckling lowly at my expense.

"Amara Lily Weston, you better start talking or else."

"Ma, how do you always find stuff out, again? Aren't you supposed to be working?" I try to distract her with the question.

"I'm always working and always looking after you and your brother. It's a mom thing, someday you'll understand."

I can feel Jacob's stare grow more intense at her words, but I ignore him. Nope, I'm not going to be a mom anytime soon. Someday hopefully. Not today or anytime soon, though. No, sir.

"Girl, you're stalking us? What happened to teenage privacy and agency?" I try to appeal to her with an argument on the importance of independence as a young adult.

She doesn't buy the shit I'm selling her, though. She never does. "Teenage privacy and agency? When you live under my roof and eat my food? Try again, young lady."

"You know I love you, right, mom? I love you sooooo much! You're the best mother ever and I'm grateful-"

She interrupts my monologue with a dry, "You're done? Okay, great. Now tell me where you slept yesterday night so I can get back to work. More customers are showing up right now."

With a long-suffering sigh, I realize that I'll have to come clean. "I was not at Ro's. The breakup thing was a lie, momma."

She sucks her teeth. "I know that already. Where were you, though?"

I glance at Jacob, annoyed that he seems nothing but satisfied and happy.

"I was...at a friend's."

"What friend, Amara?"

I gulp. "I was helping a friend. Because...his sister is so cute and she wanted me to sleep over and I also wanted to sleepover so I slept over," I ramble, saying a lot but as vaguely as I can.

Somehow, my mom knows that what I'm saying is the truth, so she only sighs and asks, "Why the lie then?"

"Because I was scared y'all were gonna say no if it wasn't a valid reason." Lies. "You and dad don't like for us to sleep over at people's houses if you guys don't know them super well." True.

She's silent for a minute, digesting my words. "When will we get to meet this little girl? And her brother? Who is he to you?"

"Uhm, I'm not sure when you can meet her," I answer honestly. "But her brother is just a friend. I have a class with him this year." This is true, except that I wouldn't necessarily call Evan my friend.

"Fine," she states, getting ready to let it go. "Just come home today, though. You don't sleep at people's houses just like that, Amara. We don't know them folks like that, I don't care if the boy is your friend."

I nod even though she obviously can't see me. Oh, the joys of having parents that actually trust you. I've never abused that trust, but for their own sakes, it looks like I will be now.

"Okay, I'll be home tonight! I know you missed my big head annoying you, ma. You could have just said that, you know? I love you, too, girl."

She sucks her teeth. "I didn't miss your big-headed self. It was actually quite a peaceful evening without your constant whining."

I laugh at her lies. "I love you! You love me! We're a happy fa-mi-ly!" I start singing the song from Barney & Friends, smiling broadly when she groans. "With a great big hug and a kiss from me to you, mwah! Won't you say you-" She hangs up on me before I get to finish the song.

I chuckle at her disregard for my singing of the childhood classic, and lock my phone. Crisis averted. Thank the sweet Lord.

"She sounds like a good mom," Jacob tells me, still sitting on his bed staring at me while completely confident in his nakedness.

I get up and pick up my clothes, the smile on my face a real one. "Yep, she's awesome. My dad is too."

He nods. "I can see where you get it from."

I roll my eyes at him as I slide into my skirt, put my bra on, then insert my arms into my crinkled uniform shirt.

Without buttoning it up, I walk toward where he sits at the edge of his bed. "Please, I'm not a sliver as awesome as my parents are. Trust me."

He shakes his head, drawing me closer by my shirt then slowly buttoning it up for me. "You don't see yourself, Amara. You don't see yourself clearly. You never have. Have I told you about the very first time I saw you?"

I don't say a thing, just watch as he slowly buttons my shirt closed.

"It was the first day of first grade and we were in the playroom where the toys were. Remember that room?"

I smile and nod because I actually remember the room. Though, I definitely remember nothing from the first day of elementary school.

"The guys were not in my same class so I was standing in the corner looking around. Then I spotted you." He smiles softly, his eyes bright. "You were dressed in a bright red dress and I swear watching you was better than eating KitKats. And at the time, eating KitKats was the most addicting thing for me."

I swallow thickly, still silent but very much engrossed in the story.

"You never took notice of me, but I watched you as you happily read your picture book." He chuckles and shakes his head. "So I got closer, wanting you to see me. Wanting you to look at me like you were looking at those pictures in the book."

I finally find my voice to ask, "Why didn't you come up to me?"

He shrugs, securing one button before telling me, "I think I was going to. But before I could, this little fucker ran up to you. He obviously really wanted the book you were reading, but didn't say anything, just stared at it. And instead of ignoring him or asking him to leave, you cheerfully gave him the book."

I incline my head, trying to think back on that day. My memory won't ever allow for me to be great, though, so nothing comes to mind.

"I was confused by your actions, but even then I knew you were the sweetest fucking thing. Because I saw the way you were absorbing that book, meaning it cost you something to give it up. But you still did it."

I bite my lower lip. "Why didn't you come up to me after the kid left?"

He smiles ruefully. "Because he didn't leave. Maybe he took notice of how fucking beautiful you were after you gave him the book or something. Because instead of leaving, he sat down and opened the book between you two so you could share it."

"Oh." I blink. "You could have joined us, no?"

He laughs with mirth as if my question is the funniest thing ever. "No, I couldn't have. I would have punched the kid. Even if he might have not wanted you, I wasn't very good at sharing."

"But I thought you said that you pulled my hair because I refused to play with you?"

"You did." He nods. "After watching you two for a bit, I got in front of you and told you to play with me. You barely even looked at me, just said no thanks and kept on reading."

I can't help but chuckle at the visual. "So then you pulled my hair?"

"I was trying to drag you away. But you yelled loudly." He pinches my sides lightly. "Which alerted the teacher who stopped me from getting what was mine."

I roll my eyes and push at his shoulder. He was a lot even as a child. Possibly, he was even more insane than he is right now.

"The point is, when you gave the book to that kid, you were just being yourself. But at that moment, you were incredible. Without even trying. And I saw that. I've always seen it." He chuckles lowly. "It's all I fucking see."

I'm uncomfortable with his assessment of me. So instead of answering with useless words, as he finishes buttoning up my shirt, I cup his face and kiss him.

With the kiss, I tell him that I like being the only thing he sees.

Hell, I think I might actually love it.