God he’s sexy, and I’m so naïve to ever think there could be any interest in a girl like me from a man like him.
Strong and commanding, he relaxes on the sofa like a king. Massive enough he takes up two cushions on the oversize couch. One arm drapes across the back while his huge hand rests on his thigh, wrapped around a tall tumbler of scotch that matches the one he gave me. Sophisticated and confident as he clinked the rim against mine, I couldn’t resist even though I should have.
Now I’m tipsy as well as nervous and awkward because I don’t know what else to do with my hands or my mouth. Fearful of talking too much and sounding like an idiot although he seems to like the answers I give him to all his questions between our glasses of whiskey.
Smokey and rich, the liquor tastes like velvet honey flowing down my throat and making me feel light-headed and warm. Or maybe that woozy effect is from him. The way he looks at me. Listens to me. Leans toward me. While I sit in this stupid dress so enormous the fabric overflows the sides of the chair. Maybe that’s why he lounges across from me. Petrified of being swallowed in the wrinkled white material and never seen again.
At least now I know why they call him The Devil behind his back. He’s dangerous and full of so much sin, I feel guilty just by association. Or at least I think I should feel guilty but I’m not sure. Somehow being with him doesn’t feel wrong like I think it’s supposed to. I take another long taste, which makes him smile that seductive smile. His expensive liquor really is good, and when I seriously consider reaching out and rubbing across his plump lips I force myself to set down my drink. “I think I’m drunk.”
“I think you’re beautiful.”
A line as smooth as his alcohol that I’m sure he’s said to a million other girls. But I don’t care. Tonight he’s paying the compliment to me, and I need the boost to my floundering ego. “You do?”
“Fuck yes I do.”
His deep voice is thick and growly with conviction, and I like hearing that too. Pretending that I’m the one who makes him needy. Telling myself I can be someone who makes him happy. At least for one night.
“Come over here.”
I should tell him no but I can’t seem to think of a reason to. Tangled in the massive gown, I carefully push off the armrests and stand in front of him. Well aware how ridiculous I look. How ridiculous I am for being here. I circle the tulle around my body as I stand between his long legs sprawled on each side of my gauzy prison. “It’s hideous.”
“If you don’t like it, take it off.”
He’s absolutely right. I lost the ring and now I need to lose the dress. But I can’t do it alone. I slowly turn back toward my seat and look at him over my shoulder. Realizing I’ve just tempted Satan himself with the fire flaming in his eyes as he watches me.
“I need help.”
I was going to be good. So fucking good. But now she stands there asking me to undress her. To see what, if anything, covers that glorious body under her gown.
I set down my glass. Grateful for the heat of the scotch warming my body. Although she must be freezing from the goosebumps lifting on her smooth skin, sparkling from the glitter sprinkled across every delicate inch. “Where?”
Unable to hide the desire pulsing in my tone, I smooth my palms over her shoulders and down her arms. Reassuring her I won’t attack regardless of how much I want to.
“The corset in the back…” An enormous stuttered breath breaks her whisper as she shivers under my caresses. “…needs to be unlaced.”
Jesus. I slowly tug the ribbons apart. Baring more and more of her smooth, pink skin to me until the silk slides down. Her plump tits sit high and erect. A tiny white thong teases between her luscious ass cheeks with fuck me garters encircling her toned thighs.
Her slight body trembles against me. “Are you afraid?”
“Terrified.”
God damn it. “That I’ll fuck you?”
“That you won’t.”
I’m a bastard, and she might as well know the truth now. I kiss her neck to cushion my assault and glide my hands around to tug at her throbbing nipples. So hot and hard and happy between my fingers.
She cries out. Not in admonishment. But in pleasure. Fucking pure pleasure followed by my name. Oh doll, this is just the beginning. “I want you to be my queen.”
Her body arches, following my strokes in sharp contrast to her head shaking. “I’m no queen.”
I’m not even a little bit drunk, but I’m a whole hell of a lot fucking crazy with her arousal coating my hand as I glide between her legs. Unable to comprehend what she says. Hell really comprehend anything at all except for her pulsing clit beckoning me to fuck her. “Too late, you already are.”
“Yours?”
I growl against her throat from her strangled tone and slide my finger into her dripping pussy. “Yes mine, and you always will be.”
When she nods, I fucking lose any other thoughts I had except for the single, solitary mission to be inside her. I scoop her up, the irony not lost on me that I’m carrying her bridal style to my bed. Although she doesn’t give me any time to contemplate her possible indecision when her mouth finds mine, kissing me with a desperation I feel to my balls while I maneuver down the hallway to my room.
Another first for me, I lay her on the bed with the reverence she deserves. I’m not used to being gentle or taking things slow. For her, I’ll take my time. Make sure she doesn’t have any regrets. Give her the night she deserves.
Although she seems just as eager to give me more than I deserve. Scrambling to her knees and clutching my jacket as she kneels in front of me. Now all I can imagine is my cock fucking her supple mouth yet she has other ideas. Her satin lips slam into mine, kissing me with a fervor I don’t expect but fucking love. Rare uncertainty flickers in the back of my mind that she’s more assertive than someone nicknamed The Mouse should be. Maybe the moniker is a lie. Or maybe her desire to ravish me is. But my craving for her isn’t fake. I want to possess her and not just for tonight.
Unable to resist, I palm her heavy tits, stroking around the thickest part until they rest in my hands like torpedoes and tear away from her kisses to give them my full attention. Sucking her peaked nipple into my mouth while I massage the other. Twisting and tugging to the point of pain mixing with the pleasure I’m lavishing on the bullet between my teeth. Her head falls back with a strangled approval bubbling in her elegant throat, and I fucking wish I was a damn octopus so I could have enough arms to keep doing what I’m doing while I finger fuck her pussy and thumb her asshole at the same time because I literally want to give her everything all at once.
She seems impatient too. Urgent hands roam over my chest. Seemingly eager to touch me but not confident enough to rip apart my clothes as easily as I tore away her dress.
“Reece...I...”
Pure desire pulses in her tone that matches my hunger for her. “I know angel. Take off my shirt.”
Hesitation floods her eyes when she lifts her head back up to look at me again. Uncertain if I’m serious, that I really want her to strip me. So I give her the proof she needs and guide her hand to my cock straining against my boxer briefs. I know she believes me now with the pink racing up her cheeks from the steel rod under her slender fingers.
Silent yet obedient she slowly slides the black and silver studs through the narrow slits. Keeping her gaze on her work rather than me. Until I moan when she brushes my belt after releasing the buttons as low as she can go without me yanking out the hem or taking off my pants. Both excellent options but she doesn’t act on either possibility. Leaving the decision to me. Easy choice to make.
I tug her hand to my zipper again and curl her trembling fingers around the tab. Determination seems to fill her expression as if she refuses to back down from a challenge, which I guess maybe releasing my aching dick is for her although not for me. I strip my jacket and shirt down my back and toss the clothes on the floor just as she breaches my waistband.
She’s fucking
all in when her hand delves inside the smooth silk and wraps around me like she fucking owns me. Which somehow she already does. I allow myself a few selfish pumps into her divine touch before I gain control of her as well as myself.
Wide eyes take in my inches as I kick off my shoes and shove down my pants, underwear, and socks. I’m huge but I’m not bragging. Not like I had anything to do with the size of my cock anymore than I influenced having blue eyes or black hair. Just dumb luck that I’m going to use to her advantage so she can enjoy this experience like she deserves. Although she doesn’t seem impressed. Rather more anxious than pleased. I can understand that too with our size difference. I cup her warm cheek and lift her face so she can see the sincerity in mine. “Don’t worry angel. I promise I won’t hurt you.”
I’m not lying. I’ll go as slow as she needs, fucking her with my tongue and my fingers until she’s begging for my cock. And even then I’ll move at a snail’s pace. If she’s picking me over all else to spend tonight with, I have to be worth the sacrifice.
Shuddering, in what I hope is anticipation, she nods and gives me a nervous smile. With her permission to proceed, I lean in to find her mouth again. Before I can capture her, she lays back, pulling me down with her onto the cool sheets. Who the fuck am I to tell her no?
I nestle between her thighs, with the head of my dick at her soaked entrance, and cup her face. Eager yet restrained. Although she isn’t. Her eyes are as bright as her grin. I know she’s kind of drunk but she seems in full control. Of me anyway. Her short pink fingernails scrape up and down my back already seeming comfortable trapped underneath me.
“I think you really are the devil because I can’t seem to resist you.”
I love her whisper even though we’re alone and can be as loud as we want. The soft murmurs confirm the intimacy between us she’s trying to establish. Because I know she’s not the kind of girl who usually falls into bed with a man she just met. “You really are an angel and me fucking you tonight won’t ever change that.”
Her tight little body softens from me relieving her of her guilt, and I dip down to kiss her. She lifts to meet me, clutching me with a ferocity I didn’t think someone so petite is capable of. I love how perfect she is. Allowing me to dominate her, but bringing just as much pleasure to me with her tongue sweeping in to tangle with mine.
I’ve never been as shocked as I am now when her hands slide from my back to my cock and she strokes me with a delicate touch. Fingertips graze across the taut skin exploring me before she grows bolder and circles her fingers around me. Caressing me with a tentative grip up and down to the point I groan into her throat. “Fuck that feels good.”
“Please Reece. I’m ready.”
Unable to deny her or myself with her request, I reach down too, never breaking eye contact with her as I couple our hands and together we slowly guide in the tip. She tenses underneath me and blows out a long breath, tickling my damp hair, almost as if she’s preparing herself. “Are you okay?”
“I’m perfect.”
That she is. I thrust in a few more inches, and she lets out a muffled whimper into my shoulder.
“Fuck angel. You’re so tight.”
“Please don’t stop. Please.”
I couldn’t if I tried. Not with her begging me. Not with her clutching me. Not with her torturing me.
Another breath. Another flex. Another cry. Of fucking pain. My eyes fly open at the realization when I feel her open. Welcoming a man inside her for the very first fucking time.
A blush spreads across her dewy cheeks yet she still smiles. Not upset. Happy. Fucking deliriously happy I just took her virginity. Slight fingers cup my face this time.
“I’m glad it’s you.”
I growl from the words she doesn’t admit. Not him. Thank fucking god not him. “I’m glad it’s me too.”
Small hands curl around my shoulders as I push all the way into her. No way to be gentle now when she’s given herself to me in all ways. If there was any doubt before—and there wasn’t ever in my mind—all of that is completely gone now. Evaporated instantly with the declaration of no other man before me or after me. Period. Final. Done.
She’s mine.
She must realize it too and braces herself against the mattress to withstand my drive inside her drenched pussy. Too deep in my head I didn’t even realize I’m pounding too deep into her. Claiming her in a way I never have any other woman. And never wanted to.
I remind myself this is for her and slow down, pulling her tighter, sliding my forearm under the back of her neck and my other hand behind her knee. Hugging her as I fuck her. Inhaling her scent that I swear smells like fucking candied apples. Worshiping her the way she should be by a man like me, who’s never held such sweet innocence in his hands.
“I wanted this...wanted you.”
Agony battles with conviction in her attempt to persuade me. I hate that she suffers, and I despise myself for being the one to cause it. Yet I’m grateful she trusts me to be the one to inflict the pain and hopefully ease her discomfort afterward. “I promise this will be the only time I ever hurt you. Every time from now on there will only be just pleasure.”
“It’s getting better, I swear. Please keep going.”
At least she’s not wincing any longer. Even if it’s not mind blowing, I can at least make it good and release her leg to start strumming her clit. She seems to like that a lot. A whole hell of a lot with her eyes drifting shut and her grimace turning into a gasp. Narrow hips lift, seeking more and a soft moan blows between her pink lips that I capture with my mouth claiming hers. We fall into a perfect rhythm, thrusting deeper and circling harder until finally her body stills and she cries out with pleasure again. Fucking glorious to my ears and I strain even harder for a repeat, relishing her calling out my name again as she falls over the edge. With a few more plunges, I’m gone too and finish inside her because my come doesn’t belong anywhere else but her womb.
She snuggles in, ravished and spent. I hold her tight and let her rest because I’m going to have to take her again in a few minutes. One time isn’t enough. Won’t ever be enough.
I force myself not to react when he unwraps his huge arm from around my waist and his lips brush my cheek before he climbs out of bed. A surprisingly tender kiss from such a powerful man. Sweet but unnecessary because he thinks I’m asleep. Because he knows this means nothing. Because he’s done with me.
Which is for the best. I let my emotions get the best of me last night but I’m fine. Really. I had a wonderful night with a generous guy who treated me like the queen he claimed me to be. Way better than if I’d actually gotten married.
Pretending to snooze while he showers and quietly pulls on clothes, I force myself not to sneak a peek. Well aware how incredible his body is and how lucky I am to have been able to have him all to myself for so long. I don’t sit up until the handle clicks behind him when he shuts the door.
Tingles ripple through my body when I examine the remnants of our love making. Slight bruises in the shape of his fingerprints mark my biceps and my hips. I shouldn’t feel that rush again from remembering his possessive touch, but I can’t fight my reaction from the proof our passion stirs. Although I have zero experience, I know he was amazing. We were amazing together. All three times.
My elation evaporates as my gaze travels lower. Dried blood streaks my stomach and thighs, embarrassing how much scarlet coats the sheets. Nothing I can do but cover the humiliation with the blankets and hope the housekeeper doesn’t say anything to him about it. About me. About the us that never was.
There isn’t anything I want more than to get out of here without him seeing me. But I’m not sure how likely that is so I have to at least try not to look like I’m a nightmare after the fantasy of last night. I tiptoe to the bathroom that’s still steamy and smells like him. That scent of leather and smoke and man almost overwhelms me. Stupid to hurt and feel like I’ve lost something I never had to begin with.
I stand on th
e warm tile under the heavy cascade in his luxurious shower and scrub myself as fast as I can. Disappointed I have to wash his essence off my skin yet smiling like an idiot that I’ll still have a reminder of him for another week or so. Until the marks heal and only my memories remain.
Finger-combing my hair is almost useless without any conditioner but at least I’m clean and clear-faced. The expensive towels feel like blankets they’re so thick and soft as I sweep over my torso and down my legs. My hands shake even though I’m not cold. I want to hurry and not have to face him but I doubt I’ll be that lucky.
I use my finger to brush my teeth and tongue as best I can with his minty toothpaste so at least I don’t have morning breath. The other issue of what I don’t have are clothes. The gown was too absurd I shouldn’t have been wearing it yesterday let alone this morning. He has to have something I could put on. I randomly yank open the middle drawer of a tall chest, assuming socks and boxer briefs fill the top rows. Two stacks of neatly folded tees fill the deep space, and I lift out a green one, attempting not to wrinkle or disturb the others. So big, the shirt fits like a dress, hanging past my knees. I look dumb but at least I’m covered.
Blowing out a deep breath, I swipe my ripped thong and shredded thigh highs off the floor and race back to the bathroom, shoving them into the trashcan under the sink. Too bad the dress won’t fit in the bin too, but I can’t leave the gown behind either. That would be too tacky. I slowly twist the knob, peeking out into the hallway. Unsure if I’m relieved or disappointed the corridor is empty, I shake my head. Trying and failing to mute the emotions swirling in my brain as I tiptoe across the black hardwood. I don’t know why I’m trying so hard to be quiet but silence seems appropriate. I grab the monstrosity and my heels off the living room carpet and sweep toward the door. Only about twenty feet and I’ll be outside. Maybe one of the guards I saw last night will loan me his phone to call an Uber and I can go somewhere that’s not here.
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