by Emilia Finn
My heart slams inside my chest, my pulse races beneath his touch, but I can’t walk away. I can’t stop. Because I’m here to fulfill a fantasy that I know may create a war; between William and my family, between William and my boyfriend.
Worst of all, between William and me.
My throat is dry, and my breath comes in short, fast pants. But I remain standing upright while William gets his fill and studies my body.
“I will never say no to you,” he rasps out after a moment. “Ever. Do you know that your skin terrifies me?”
He doesn’t look up. He doesn’t meet my eyes.
“What?”
“Mm.” Slowly, one step at a time, he leads me backward. “So fucking pale, Olivia. Too pale, that if you closed your eyes, I wouldn’t know if you were sleeping or dead. And the not knowing…” He nips at my bottom lip and steals a cry from my throat. “I dream about you. You’re lying on the forest floor, like the real Snow White, but your eyes are closed, and I just don’t know…” He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
“Not dead.”
I gasp when my heels hit the counter by the fridge, then squeal when William lifts me so fast that I have no choice but to clutch to him. I wrap my arms around his neck, my legs around his hips, and when he sets me down so I sit on the countertop, he dives in and slams his lips to mine.
He’s taking, and now I have two options: I can run with it, and claim it wasn’t my fault. Or I can run with it, and know that the choices I make right now will shape the rest of my life. For better or for worse, nothing will be the same after this.
“I can be your bad guy.” William tugs my shirt up. Without asking my permission, without waiting to see if we’re on the same page, he tears the loose fabric up over my head and tosses it to the tiled floor. “Tomorrow, you can pretend it never happened, and I swear, I won’t tell a soul.”
He slams his lips back to mine and devours – it can’t be described as anything else. He’s not sampling, not teasing, not testing. He’s glutting, because when this is done, I guess he doesn’t wanna kick himself when he realizes he had a chance and blew it.
“I can be your bad guy,” he repeats and moves his lips to my neck. “But it would be so much more fun if you’d meet me here, if you’d show me your strength. I don’t want a helpless damsel. I want strength.”
“I’m a damsel,” I lie. “I’m not strong like you.”
“You’re not weak,” he argues and picks me up off the counter. He sets me on my heeled feet, drops to his knees so I’m left standing alone, panting, gasping for air, and then he unsnaps my jeans and tugs the denim down my thighs. “You look amazing in these, by the way.”
“The jeans?” I choke out.
“Yeah. Next time I see you, I hope you wear them again. They make your ass look fantastic. But for now—” He tugs them past my knees, down to my ankles, and stops there because of my shoes.
William remains on the floor, a contradiction that this strong, mountainous man would be so low, so submissive, if only for a moment. He looks up at me and swallows so his Adam’s apple bobs, but while I study his face, his throat, his eyes, I miss the way his hand snakes up my thigh and around to the front of my panties. I get just a moment’s notice, just a single breath before he presses the pad of his thumb to my clit and sends me bucking.
“God!” I cry out so loud that I’m certain I do damage to my throat. “Jesus, William.”
“Open your legs just a little wider,” he coaches in a gentle tone. He leaves one hand in place and teases my clit, but with the other, he slides between my legs and begins separating them.
It’s tricky, because my ankles are essentially bound together by my jeans, so I have to widen my knees, lower my center of gravity, and try not to think about how silly I look in this curtsy-type position.
“I’m gonna touch you, Olivia. I’m not gonna ask for permission, because if I do, you’ll start thinking about guilt and all that shit. So I’m gonna take, I’m gonna pleasure us both, and I’m not gonna stop until we literally can’t do it anymore.”
“Consent is sexy,” I pant out. “Telling me you’re not gonna ask is…” I throw my head back and cry when he sneaks a finger past my panties and deep inside until he curls it back and touches something explosive. “William!”
“I never said I would force you into anything. I said I would take, so tomorrow, you can walk away knowing you never said yes to any of this. However you want to justify it in your head,” he pumps his finger and moves his left hand to hold my hip so I don’t drop to the floor. “You can tell yourself whatever you need to say, so that you don’t die of guilt. But,” he adds in the same moment he adds a second finger, “we both know you can’t be forced into anything. So if I make a move you don’t like, you know how to stop me. It’s win-win, really. I get to be rough, exactly how I like to be, and I know that you can take care of yourself.”
He pulls his hand from my panties and shoots to his feet with dizzying speed. I can’t keep up, I can’t form logical thoughts, and every time I think my brain is up to date, William has already made his next move.
He wraps an arm around my hips and lifts me off my feet. Most women would wrap their legs around a man’s hips in this position, but my jeans are still around my ankles, so I’m stuck as he carries me out of the kitchen and into a dark hall.
I’ve never been inside this apartment before, I don’t know where anything is. But my brain tries its hardest to catalogue each feature in the single second I get to see. Kitchen, living room, fridge, dark hallway, two doors. We move past an outdated blue-tile bathroom, to the only other door this hall has. William slams the flimsy timber open so hard that it bounces off the wall and starts to come back, but it goes ignored as he stops at the end of his bed and drops me to the plush covers so I land with a muted thump.
“Are you a virgin, Olivia?” He drops to his knees and goes to work undoing the heels I so carefully selected to wear just for him.
When I don’t answer, he glances up and waits for my eyes. “Olivia?”
“No.” I send my eyes to the ceiling. It’s not cheating if I’m not looking, right? If I didn’t say yes, and I’m not looking… right? “I’m not a virgin.”
“So many conflicting feelings,” he rasps and tosses one shoe to the floor. “It’s good, because I’m not sure I can be that gentle. Not today. Not after waiting for so long.”
“But?” I lift my hips when William tosses the second shoe, then reaches up to tug my panties down with my jeans. “What’s the ‘but’?”
“But thinking of you and another man makes me crazy.”
He drags the denim from my legs and frees my ankles from their restraints. Once they’re gone, he grabs my thighs, shoves them apart with such force that it hurts, but above that pain is the knowledge that I’m spread wide open for him. I have no privacy, I have nowhere to hide.
“Thinking of you right here, laid out on a bed with your legs open…” He licks his lips and glances up to meet my eyes, “But another man on top of you…” He shakes his head and presses a kiss to the sensitive skin on the side of my knee.
I’m almost completely naked, my bra the only scrap of material I now possess. But William remains exactly how he was when I arrived: tanned skin, wide shoulders, thick chest. He kisses his way along the inside of my thigh, bites, suckles for long enough that I know – I know! – he’s leaving his mark. He works his way up my body, and growls when I feel my own pleasure slide from my pussy.
I can’t hide how I feel for him, I can’t stop my body’s natural reactions even if I wanted to. I’ve wanted William Quinn ever since I first met him all those years ago. Ever since I spent an entire evening sitting across from him at the table, while I tried to eat my dinner and pretend I didn’t notice him, and he spent his time unapologetically staring.
I was wet for him then, too. And every single time I’ve thought of him since, my body has reacted.
“Olivia?”
Caught in m
y spiraling thoughts, preparing to race down into a pit of despair when I acknowledge that he and I can’t be together, I watch as William climbs onto the bed on his knees, and towers over me, looming and dangerous.
He’s so broad that he completely blocks the light from above. He’s so heavy that if he laid on me and refused to hold his own weight, I wouldn’t live. He’s so sexy, so dangerous, so tantalizing, and so risky that my heart races, races, races. But then it stops, because William’s hands go down to his own jeans. The button was already popped when I arrived here tonight, so all he does now is push the zipper down and slide his hand into the black boxer shorts.
My throat turns desert dry. My tongue, like sandpaper in my mouth.
“It hurts me to think of you and another man in bed together, Olivia.” He pushes the front of his pants down and takes out a pulsing, purpling cock. “But I won’t lie and say that news doesn’t come with its own slice of relief. Because I can’t be gentle. Not with you.”
“You don’t have to be gentle,” I choke out. “It’ll be okay.”
“I’m gonna use you up. And though I love your face,” he leans over me and slams his lips to mine. “So fucking beautiful,” he breathes out, then he breaks the kiss, grabs my thigh, and flips me so fast that I squeal and throw my hands out to catch myself. “I’ve been staring at this for a long, long time.” William grabs my hips and drags me up to my knees so his cock touches my ass and his left hand slides down to touch my clit. “So maybe next time, we’ll do it the other way around. But this time…” He squeezes my hip until it hurts. “This time, this is the way I need to do it.”
I buck in front of him, and scream when he pushes a rough finger inside and fucks me without remorse, then I whimper when he uses his other hand to unsnap my bra and push the fabric away.
I’m supposed to be a damsel, aren’t I? Coy and innocent? So why can’t I help the way I grind back toward his cock? Why can’t I stop the hunger that burns in my blood and demands I get rid of his finger, and instead demand all of him?
“William…”
“Mm. Say my fuckin’ name, Olivia.” He reaches back, fusses with something, then he tosses his wallet down onto the bed in my line of sight a mere second before the crinkling of a condom packet echoes in my head. “I might fuck you this way, and maybe you won’t see my face, but don’t you dare pretend it’s anyone but me.” He snaps the condom in place, and presses the tip of his cock against my slick opening. “If you pretend, Olivia, if for one single second you check out and pretend this is Brenten just so you can ease your guilt, I’m gonna punish you.”
“Punish me?” I pant like a dog, like a desperate, starving dog in heat, and whimper when he nudges his dick forward and begins his trek inside. “How do you mean?”
“I mean I’ll fuck you until you cry. I’ll make you choke on my cock until you can’t decide what you want inside you more – oxygen, or my cum. I will use you up until you’re sore, and the whole time, you will scream my name. So say it now, Olivia. Or say it later. But I will make sure you acknowledge who’s inside you when you come.”
He pushes inside an inch, then another. William leans over me, wraps his arm around my hip and presses his fingers to my clit, and when I cry out and slam my eyes closed, he reaches forward and grabs one of my supporting hands. He breaks the support so I have to hold myself up on one arm, but I allow him to mold me, to move me, to do whatever the hell he wants to do to me.
He’s already in, I’ve already broken the rules, so now I enjoy the consequences of my actions.
“Fold your elbow,” he gently coaches, and when I do, he takes my hand and brings it down along my stomach, over the short thatch of hair I keep trimmed and neat, then he slides my fingers through my own heat until the tips touch his rock-hard cock. “Feel me slide inside you,” he groans. “Be here with me, Olivia. Feel this.”
Instead of moving in, he reverses his direction so I feel him slide out an inch or so, and bringing my slickness with him.
“Jesus, William.” I drop my head and simply allow myself to feel. “Jesus.”
“William,” he grunts and begins moving inside again. “Not Jesus, not God, not babe, or handsome, or lover. You know my fucking name, Olivia. You know what I want from you.”
“What?” I pant and accept his thick length inside of me. He stretches me out, he hurts me, but it’s the best kind of hurt. It’s the kind that brings me to completion long before I’m ready to be done. “What is it you want?” I breathe out.
“For you to say my name.”
“You want the acknowledgment?”
“Yes.” He nudges in a little more. “Fuck yes, I do.”
“The bragging rights?”
“I’ll only brag to you.”
“You want ownership.”
“Nobody owns you. Get ready.”
“What?”
But I don’t get an answer. Instead, William slams his way home until I scream and shoot along the bed.
But he chases. We both knew he would.
He follows me up his mattress, grabs my hands and presses them to the timber headboard until I hold on, then he grabs my hips and rides me. My breasts bounce, and my shoulders burn, but the burn in my muscles is nothing on the burn in my stomach, in my groin. William fucks me like he thinks this might be our one and only chance. He drapes himself over my back, samples and bites my skin, slides his hand down to my pussy and tweaks my clitoris, and when I buck and squeeze him out, he merely lines up, grabs my hip, and slams back inside again.
“Sweetest asshole I ever saw,” he mindlessly pumps behind me. “I swear, stronger men have fallen to their knees for women like you.”
I’m caught up in my own world, my own mindlessness while my orgasm sprints through my blood and threatens to tear me up. But a splash of liquid between my butt cheeks brings me back to reality, a slide of a finger around my anus brings my heart to a screeching stop, then when that finger presses forward and breaks that barrier, I scoot forward on the bed and squeeze him out again.
“Er… nope.” My breath comes fast – too fast, dizzyingly fast – but William merely follows me and pulls me back.
“Yes,” he rasps.
“When you asked if I was a virgin,” I choke out, only to squeak when William pushes his cock back inside me like we’ve been doing this our whole lives. “William, I meant… I meant the… you know? In the traditional sense.”
With a dirty, gritty chuckle, he begins gliding in and out again. Fast, perfect strokes that bring my blood back to boiling. Then he wraps his arm around my hips, and once again, spits on my anus. “I’m not gonna fuck your ass, Olivia.”
“You’re…” I try to glance over my shoulder. “You’re not?”
“Not today. Not with my cock. But with my finger?” He slides the tip of his finger over my anus until a brand new wash of fire sparks through my blood, and my orgasm teases closer. “You’ll like this. I promise.”
“William, I’m–oh shit,” I groan when he slides that finger in, and both pleasure and pain make me breathless. “That feels so—”
“Good,” he finishes my sentence. “It feels fantastic.” He slams his cock deep inside me so the tip touches places that have never been touched before. It hurts, and yet, I can’t stop my want for more. “You squeeze me so fucking tight,” he grunts out. “Each time I…” He moves his finger, and moans when my body reacts. “You like it, Olivia. You’re just scandalized by it.”
“William, this is—”
“Not enough,” he declares and pushes harder. He uses his strength to move me as easily as a child tosses a ragdoll. With a hand on my hip, his fingers digging into skin and bone, he pulls me back with a grunt until I swallow him whole and he’s seated inside me right down to the hilt. “Not even close to enough,” he pants. “Fuck, Olivia. I’ve waited for this.”
“I’m gonna come.” I bury my face in the pillows. My eyes water, and my lungs struggle to drag in enough air, but my body thrums under William’s
assault.
For right now, for the next little while, there is no world outside this bedroom. There are no worries, no drug dealers, no criminals or cops or overprotective big brothers. There’s just my sensitized body, purring under William’s touch. And there’s William, using me up the way he promised for years he would.
“Don’t go yet,” he demands. “Not yet.”
“I have to,” I cry out, and try to clamp down on it. Though I can’t be entirely sure what it is. “William, I can’t—”
“Not yet.” He whips a punishing hand down and smacks my ass. “I’m not ready yet.”
“William,” I whimper and resort to holding my breath. I drag in a lungful of air, then I close my mouth, my eyes, and simply feel.
“I’ve waited so long.” He slams deep inside me at a relentless pace. His thighs slap against the backs of mine. His cock drags along my every nerve ending, and his balls clap against my clit on every thrust forward. “I don’t want to be done yet,” he pants out and continues moving
I stop telling him I can’t. Stop telling him anything, and instead, I focus on the roar in my head. The waves that whoosh between my ears. The thunder of my heart as it races my orgasm to completion. And when I can’t hold it off any longer, I simply let go with a cry.
But William doesn’t allow it.
“No,” he declares on a snarl, pulling out and leaving me in shock for only a second as he flips me to my back, grabs my legs with a painful hold, and drags me down the bed to him. Then he slams deep inside and ignites a brand new orgasm that sends me toppling off the massive cliff inside my mind.
William bends forward and takes my nipple between his lips, like he’s just not done exploring, like he has a list of places to “hit” before we’re done. His lips on my feverish skin makes my orgasm go on and on and on, but then he bites down on a cried groan, and releases himself to fill the condom separating us even as he struggles for breath.