21. Chandler

TWENTY-ONE

chandler

"I love coming back with you," Boston said, putting his arm around me as we entered the hotel room. The door clicked shut behind us, sealing us in our private sanctuary for the evening.

"I have to admit, this little getaway has been pretty fun." I said, trying to hide my nerves. I twisted the lock and took a deep breath, still facing the door.

My heart raced, the reality of the situation sinking in. Tonight, I could lose my virginity to my brother's best friend—someone who’d always been a constant presence in my life, but never in this way. This was Boston, the boy who had been the epitome of my childhood dreams—the reason my younger self believed in love. There was no hesitation in my mind; there was no one better than him.

Boston's shadow fell over the dimly lit room as his hand reached to draw the curtains closed with a gentle swish.

"Come here." His voice was gentle, and I could practically feel his blue eyes on my back.

When I closed the space between us he cupped my chin, tilting my head to meet his gaze. "You're always the most beautiful girl in any room," he whispered, "but tonight you took my breath away."

"Really? I didn’t think I could pull this dress off." The response escaped my lips before I could catch it, despite the sincerity in his expression.

"You pulled it off a little too well." The affirmation was soft but fierce, and then, without another moment wasted, he leaned in.

His lips crashed into mine. When our lips met, all my nervous thoughts were swept away. It was a kiss wrapped in years of hidden desire. Our tongues danced together to the same rhythm only we knew. His taste was intoxicating. My fingers curled into his hair, tugging him closer while his hands roamed my back, tracing the delicate outlines of my dress.

His hands moved to my waist, pulling me into him as the kiss grew more intense. My own hands found their way up his chest, tracing the contours of his muscles beneath his shirt. The sensation of his heart pounding in time with mine sent a thrill through my veins.

I moaned, arching my back into his touch. He responded by lifting me effortlessly in the air. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. In one fluid motion, he lowered us onto the bed, our lips never parting.

I straddled him as we kissed with a hunger that had been simmering just below the surface for years. Boston's hands roamed my body, leaving a trail of goosebumps. The heat between my legs was building, my core aching for him. I grinded my hips against him, our tongues moving together.

"Boston," I breathed, lost in the heat of the moment, "I want you. I’m ready."

Boston pulled back slightly, searching my face with foggy eyes. “Ready for what?”

I took a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. “I want you to be my first,” I confessed, looking up at him through my lashes.

Boston’s eyes narrowed slightly, as he tilted his head. “Tonight?”

I nodded. “Yes, now.”

“Why?” he asked, his hand came up to cradle my cheek, his thumb gently rubbing away the tension there.

“Because I want to do this with you, and I know I’m ready,” I admitted, feeling confident in my decision.

His touch was tender, the action protective. "That's not something you should rush," he said gently. "There will be other weekends—just because we’re here doesn’t mean it has to happen now."

"I know it doesn’t have to happen now, but I want it to.” A wave of frustration hit, mixing with a sharp pang of rejection. I dropped my arms from around him. “It’s fine if you don’t."

Before I could turn fully away, his grip tightened on my arm, pulling me back against his solid frame, refusing to let me turn away. "I really fucking want to," he said, surrendering. "Only if you’re sure."

"I’m sure," I affirmed.

He kissed me again, and this time, there was no turning back. I pulled away from the kiss as I reached for the hem of my dress, and then lifted it over my head before I tossed it on the floor—exposing the black lingerie beneath.

"Holy fuck," he breathed out, half-curse, half-prayer. He bit his lip—an unconscious gesture that sent waves of desire crashing through me. "You're perfect," he breathed, his blue eyes filled with need as they roamed over my body.

He kissed my neck and collarbone, his breath hot against my skin, before he lifted me and flipped me around. I relished the softness of the cool sheets against my skin as he gently guided me down on the bed.

His right hand worked to unhook my bra before taking one of my nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and teasing it with his teeth. He trailed soft, lingering kisses down my body until he reached my stomach. I let out a gasp as he parted my legs and his lips moved to my inner thighs making me tremble in excitement.

"That feels so good," I purr, arching my back and running my hands through his hair.

When he finally reached my clit, he teased me with his tongue, flicking lightly before sucking and licking with more intensity. I was squirming beneath him, my hands gripping the sheets.

"Boston," I begged, "I want you inside me."

He looked up at me with a smirk and reached for his wallet, then slowly slid on a condom.

"I’ll do my best to get you through any pain," he said, tentatively. “But tell me if you need to stop.”

"Okay," I whispered.

He pressed his broad tip against my slick entrance, teasing me with a hint of what was to come. My body responded instinctively, arching towards him and trying to take him in, but he held back.

“Are you ready?” he asked, searching my face.

“Yes.” My breath shivered in anticipation.

He pushed inside, carefully, taking his time and moving agonizingly slowly. I gasped at the sensations, a mix of pleasure and pain. He reached for my hand and pinned it to the bed. His fingers slid between mine in a tight grip, in a promise—he was there to comfort me through this. His touch made me feel calm and alive all at once.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pausing in concern.

"Yes, keep going," I whispered, breathlessly.

“Is this what you want?” he breathed, spreading my legs slightly wider.

"Yes… I feel so full," I moaned, my voice barely above a whisper.

He grinned down at me, his eyes dark with desire. "I'm not all the way in yet."

I wrapped my legs around him tight as he slowly pushed himself deeper, my body continuing to stretch. I could feel every inch of him, the thickness of his shaft, the pulsing veins that ran along his length.

"Damn, you're so tight," he groaned before starting to move—slowly at first, as if savoring every inch of me. With each thrust, he picked up the pace, driving deeper and deeper inside me. The sensation was overwhelming.

“Fuck,” I moaned, closing my eyes as my nails dug into his back.

"Eyes on me, pretty girl," he demanded, his voice rough with desire.

I complied, and he began playing with my clit, teasing and rubbing it in circles with his thumb. The combination of his fingers and his cock was almost too much to bear. He was hitting all the right spots, and I felt a heat building inside me that I had never felt before.

"Chandler, I've wanted this for so long," he murmured. The grasp of his hand on mine remained firm and unwavering as he kept it pinned.

"I know," I breathed out. "Me too."

I could feel my orgasm building, and just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, he angled his hips, hitting a spot that sent me over the edge.

He whispered in my ear, "Come for me, Chandler. I want to feel you come on my dick."

He continued to thrust at just the right angle, like he knew exactly how to keep me on the cliff of pleasure.

“I’m... I’m...” I moaned, not able to form the words.

“That’s my girl,” he said, panting.

I screamed in ecstasy as my body convulsed around him. He continued to thrust at just the right pace. He wasn't done yet, though. I could feel him swelling inside me, and the thought of him coming undone sent another wave of pleasure crashing over me.

“Oh god, yes—Boston.” I dug my nails into his back, urging him on as he rocked his hips into me. He kept going, bringing me to another orgasm until I was a panting, sweating mess.

"Oh fuck," he gritted through clenched teeth, his body tense and shuddering with his release. I lay there, spent and satisfied, feeling the aftershocks of pleasure coursing through my body. It was my first time, but it was perfect—because of him, the gorgeous boy I trusted, who always made me feel safe and protected.

Lying there, our breath seemed loud in the quiet of the room. I turned my head to watch Boston's chest rise and fall, his eyes closed as if he was savoring the moment just as much as I was. A lingering sense of disbelief had me whispering, "I didn't expect it to be like that."

Boston's eyelids lifted, revealing those icy blue eyes that always seemed to make me melt. A chuckle escaped him. "What did you expect it to be like?" he asked, his voice low and slightly hoarse.

I bit my lip, feeling suddenly shy. "I don't know... I've heard horror stories from my friends about their first time."

"Horror stories?" His lips curved into a smile, and he propped himself up on one elbow, gazing down at me with an affectionate curiosity. "Maybe they weren't with the right person."

My cheeks flushed with heat as I managed a playful retort, "Or maybe they just didn't have a Boston to set the bar so high."

His smile deepened, and something tender flickered across his features. "Well, tonight was a first for me too."

Curiosity piqued, I tilted my head, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear. "How?"

He leaned in, his breath tickling my skin. "Being with you, Chandler, it's different. It's unlike anything else."

The corners of his lips tilted upward in a smile that reached his eyes, lighting them up in a way that made my heart skip a beat. He had been out of reach my whole life, but there he was, in front of me, giving me a look that said I was the only one who mattered.

"Being with you is so much better than any stupid hook-up I've ever had," he continued, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that sent shivers down my spine. "You're not just some girl, Chandler. You're you. And I care so much about you... that changes everything."

I snuggled closer to him, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the tangled sheets or our bare skin. It was the warmth of being seen, of being cherished for who I was rather than the image I presented to the world.

"Thank you for tonight," I murmured, pressing a soft kiss against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. It was a thank you for the way he took care of me, for the honesty, and for seeing me as someone worth caring about.

Boston tightened his embrace and held me close. As I closed my eyes, for the first time in a while I let myself embrace some of the feelings I was having for him. It was a risk, but with Boston, it felt like a risk worth taking.