The First Man She Didn’t Hate [R -18]
The blanket pooled around her waist as their lips met again, and Felberta’s mind spiraled into chaos.
I hate men. I’ve always hated men.
Their touch makes my skin crawl. Their presence suffocates me.
Then why... why am I not pushing him away?
Why does his kiss feel like coming home?
Julian’s lips moved against hers with a tenderness that contradicted everything she knew about him. This wasn’t the confident flirt who teased every woman he met. This was someone else entirely—someone vulnerable, someone genuine, someone who made her feel safe in a way she’d never thought possible.
His hand cradled her cheek, his thumb tracing gentle circles against her skin.
Felberta’s fingers tightened in his shirt, pulling him closer.
She hated men.
But she didn’t hate this.
She didn’t hate him.
This is wrong. This is so wrong. I should stop. I should push him away. I should—
His tongue brushed against her lower lip, asking for entry.
And she gave it.
Without hesitation.
Without thought.
Her lips parted, and Julian deepened the kiss slowly, savoring every soft sound she made.
For Julian, this was uncharted territory.
He’d never kissed women before— expect Bianca but only cheek But those kisses had been playful, teasing, part of the game he played so well.
This...
This was different.
His heart pounded against his ribs like a caged animal. His golden eyes fluttered closed as he lost himself in the taste of her—sweet and warm and utterly intoxicating.
I’ve never felt this before.
Not like this.
Not with anyone.
His free hand moved from her cheek, trailing down her neck, following the graceful curve of her collarbone.
Felberta shivered beneath his touch, a soft gasp escaping her lips.
His fingers continued their slow descent, tracing the swell of her breast through the thin blanket that still covered her.
Then he paused.
His lips broke from hers, hovering just above them.
"Felberta," he breathed, his voice rough with barely contained desire. "Can I... can I move this?"
His fingers brushed against the blanket’s edge, the question hanging in the air between them.
She didn’t answer.
Couldn’t answer.
Her crimson eyes were dazed, her breathing ragged, her mind a battlefield of conflict and longing.
This is too fast. We barely know each other. I should say no. I should—
But her body betrayed her.
She nodded.
Just once.
A tiny, almost imperceptible movement.
But Julian saw it.
His golden eyes darkened with raw emotion as he slowly, gently, pulled the blanket away from her chest.
Her breasts were fully exposed now—full and firm, her pink nipples already peaked from the cool air and the intensity of the moment.
Julian’s breath caught.
[She’s so beautiful.]
[So perfect.]
[I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve her.]
But his body didn’t care about what he deserved.
His dick stirred, pressing insistently against his trousers as he drank in the sight of her.
Felberta saw the hunger in his eyes, and instead of fear, she felt something else entirely.
Desire.
I want this. I want him.
I’m terrified. But I want this.
Julian’s hand moved to cup her breast, his palm warm against her sensitive skin.
She gasped at the contact, her back arching involuntarily into his touch.
"Julian..." she whispered, his name a prayer on her lips.
He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, gently at first, then with more pressure.
Felberta moaned—a soft, breathy sound that seemed to surprise even her.
Her face flushed crimson, but she didn’t pull away.
She couldn’t.
Her body was singing in a way it never had before.
This is wrong. This is so wrong. I hate men. I hate—
His mouth replaced his fingers.
His lips closed around her nipple, his tongue circling the sensitive peak.
Felberta cried out, her hands flying to his hair, fingers tangling in his black locks.
Her back arched again, pushing more of herself into his eager mouth.
"Please," she gasped, not entirely sure what she was begging for.
Julian pulled back just enough to look at her, his golden eyes blazing.
"Please what, Felberta?"
The question hung between them, heavy with possibility.
She looked away, her cheeks burning.
But his hand found her chin, gently turning her face back to his.
"I need you to tell me," he said softly, his voice strained with the effort of restraint. "I need you to say it."
Felberta swallowed hard.
Her body ached. Her heart raced. Every nerve ending in her body screamed for more.
I hate men. I hate them. I—
"I want..." she started, her voice barely a whisper.
Julian waited.
"Take me," she breathed, the words leaving her lips before she could stop them.
Her crimson eyes widened in shock at her own confession.
Did I just say that?
Did I really just—
Julian’s lips found hers again, hungry and fierce.
His body pressed against hers, the heat of him searing through the thin fabric of his clothes.
She felt his hardness against her thigh, and her breath caught.
He wants me.
He really wants me.
His hand slipped down her side, tracing the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips.
Felberta moaned into his mouth, her body arching against his.
He broke the kiss, trailing his lips down her neck, across her collarbone, back to her breast.
She gasped as his teeth grazed her nipple, her fingers tightening in his hair.
"More," she gasped, the word escaping before she could stop it. "Please... more."
Julian’s body responded immediately, his dick straining against his trousers as he pressed himself against her soft flesh.
He wanted to give her everything.
But he also wanted to savor this.
Her first time. Her first real intimacy with a man.
The thought both thrilled and terrified him.
She’s trusting me. She’s letting me in.
I won’t break that trust. I won’t.
His hand slid lower, tracing the curve of her hip, the soft skin of her inner thigh.
Felberta tensed for a moment—then relaxed.
His fingers brushed against the warmth between her legs.
She gasped, her entire body trembling.
"Mnhhh~ Julian..." she breathed, half-plea, half-moan.