Victor: Her Ruthless Crush by Theodora Taylor (beach read book TXT) 📕

it was easy and direct. But sometimes, it forced me to say things way more plainly than I wanted to.

Like, if I were just speaking, I would have used a clever euphemism like “go all the way” or “smash.”

But for this particular conversation, my whole face burned as I made one of the very graphic signs for HAVE SEX.

Victor froze.

Then he raised his hands to slowly sign, “You want to have sex?”

Oh God, could this conversation be more embarrassing?

We’d made out. Man, we’d made out. Behind the school. In his Bentley. Against walls. On top of his bed. And we’d touched a little. My hands had found my way underneath his shirt a few times, and I’d thrilled at the feel of him, all hard muscle covered in taut skin. A few times, he’d settled a hand on my breast.

Some of our bed kisses had gotten pretty intense too. We’d crawled all over each other, and I could feel his hard length against my soft stomach. But he’d always backed off. He’d never asked for more.

But here I was, asking for more.

Kind of.

Look, I had zero experience. I could only push myself so far. So instead of admitting that yes, I was an eighteen-year-old girl with sexual wants and needs, I asked-signed back. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

He lowered both hands to his hips. Looked to the side. Then he raised them again to ask, “Have you done this before?”

I told him the truth with my heart beating in my throat, “No.”

He expelled a harsh breath. Looked at me. Looked to the side again. Finally, he signed, “Dawn…I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

My heart stopped beating. He loved me?

Cue all the gooey feelings. And suddenly, the conversation became easy.

“I love you too,” I spoke-signed back emphatically. “That’s why I want my first time to be with you.”

He responded to my heartfelt statement with a flutter of signs I only sort of understood. What he’d called “frustration words” that were “better for you not to know” when I asked him about them previously.

Then he turned his back on me. Like he was thinking of walking out.

Now, it was my turn to look at the floor, my cheeks burning with shame.

He’d said he loved me, but obviously, this conversation was upsetting him. Maybe he loved me but didn’t desire me like that? Maybe he didn’t want me like I wanted him.

“It’s okay,” I mumbled, still looking down. “We don’t have to do anything. Let’s just go to your izy—”

I cut off when he slammed into me like a train, taking my mouth like he was gulping me down. I thrilled at his all-consuming kiss and the feel of him hard and heavy against my stomach.

He came at me hard and fast, but took his time removing my clothes like he was unwrapping a present until I was in my underwear.

Some feminine instinct told me to take off my own bra. To treat it like a reveal. And I was immediately rewarded for my showmanship.

I swear I didn’t understand the point of big breasts until his entire face lit up at the sight of mine.

More hard and fast kisses and we tumbled back into his low Japanese-style bed.

Somewhere inside the kissing frenzy, he peeled away his shirt and shoved out of his pants. Clothes came off until we were both down to our socks and underwear.

Excitement buzzed in my stomach when I saw the way his dick was tenting inside his briefs. There was no doubt about it now. He wanted me. He really wanted me.

And I wanted him right back.

I wasn’t sure how the next part would go, but Victor was my ocean, and I was ready to dive in.

He pulled a condom out of the nightstand drawer. Sat with his back to the wall and beckoned me forward with a downward hand.

I crawled over to him like a puppet on a string, watching entranced as he put on the condom. There were two heavy lines carved into the bottom of his abs, and they both seemed to be pointing at his erection. Long and just thick enough for me to be intrigued, not scared.

It strained between his legs after he got the condom on, and he stroked it a few times as if trying to keep it calm.

My throat dried with performance anxiety. Did it want to be touched? Maybe even sucked, like the girls on the internet?

I didn’t get a chance to find out. Victor pulled me in for another kiss as if that was way more important than what was happening between his legs.

Sometime during that kiss, my underwear went away too, and then there the both of us were. Naked except for the condom.

He leaned back to sign. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Sure,” I answered immediately. My heart was bouncing up and down in my stomach like a basketball.

He kissed me again, soft this time, as he lowered me down.

I soon found out why he said he didn’t want to hurt me. It wasn’t just him being caring and romantic. Sex with Victor was an invasion.

He went slow, but pain pierced through me as he entered my tight space.

I tried to keep my discomfort silent. But I think he knew. When he was all the way in, he gripped my waist a little tighter and kissed my shoulder, like he was thanking me for a gift.

Then he leaned back and signed, “How bad was it?”

I let out a shaky breath. “Fine. I’m fine.”

His expression became very serious. “Don’t lie to me. Everything bad that’s ever happened to me has been because someone lied. Promise me.”

My heart contracted at his words. I’d never seen Victor feel sorry for himself. He was one of those rare rich kids who realized how good he had it and didn’t complain. Even when he’d told me about his tongue, his expression had remained matter of fact, like “them the breaks.”

Whatever memory was driving him to say this in