by Paige North
I don’t answer— I can’t answer, not with the way his fingers in me are making me feel electric and needy. I reach down and grab his wrist so I can drive my hips harder against him. I hear Gabe chuckle a little.
“Oh, baby. You have no idea,” he mutters. Before I’ve processed what’s happening, he’s pulled his fingers from me and grabbed hold of my hips. He swings me around and slides underneath me, so I’m straddling him. His hands are on my hips, and my pussy lips are balanced over the shaft of his cock, warning me how thick he is.
“Like this,” he tells me. “We’ll start like this.”
He slides his hands from my hips to my ass, urging me up to my knees, so he has room to lift his cock and position the head against my entrance. I gasp when I feel his head pressing at my pussy, when I truly understand how tight I’ll be wrapped around him.
Gabe is holding back— it’s clear from the grit of his teeth that he wants to thrust into me now. Instead, he moves his hands back to my hips. “Go on, Lucy. When you’re ready.”
I keep my eyes on his as best I can through my trembling, then brace my hands against his chest. I can feel his cock pulsing with blood, the heat rising from his body, my clit tingling with need. This is it— I’m going to lose my virginity to Gabe Forest. I’m going to slide onto his cock, to ride him, to let him fill me up.
I want it so badly I can’t stand it a moment more.
I lower my hips slowly. Gabe’s cock parts my pussy lips and the tip of him slides into me, straining at my entrance. I groan and let my head roll back, then lower myself farther.
“That’s right. Good girl,” Gabe says, his voice haggard, half groaning as I continue to move down him, inch by inch. “You can take more. Go on,” he says when I stop for longer than a few moments. My pussy juice drips on him, and I go delirious and hazy and feel an orgasm building in my chest from the mere presence of his cock in me.
“Gabe,” I whimper. “I’m afraid I might come.”
“You will,” Gabe says seriously. Then, he grabs me and pulls my hips the rest of the way down. I gasp, unsure if what I’m feeling is pleasure or pain— no, no, it’s pleasure. Oh, god, it’s pleasure. I rock forward, elbows threatening to give out; Gabe takes over. He lifts my hips and begins to gently bounce me up and down on his cock, rocking himself inside me, never withdrawing entirely. I moan, the sound forming his name, and Gabe growls— he’s still holding back. I can feel the want to fuck me hard and fast through his touch, like his hungry energy is flowing from his skin into mine.
He grinds into me now, swiveling his hip every time he buries himself in my pussy. I feel weak and hazy, and begin to moan with each thrust, sounds I’ve never made before rising from my throat without my consent. Gabe pulls my chest down to his and holds me tight against him with one hand, then holds my ass with the other, rocking in and out of me fast and shallow—
“Gabe,” I stammer drunkenly. “I’m going to come.” It’s too soon, we’ve only just started, I should try to hold back—
“Go on,” he says. “Come with my cock in you.”
“But I—”
He doesn’t give me a choice in the matter. Gabe pushes into me fast, and I can feel every ridge, every contour of him inside me. I’m still so tight against him that it shocks me anew each time he thrusts, forcing his way into my unexplored pussy. He’s in control— I’m his, right now— and I love it. That feeling is every bit as responsible for the orgasm that rips through me as the actual sensation of Gabe’s cock in me.
I scream— cry, howl— I’m not even sure what the word is for the sound that pours from my throat. I clench around Gabe’s cock and go limp against him, but he’s relentless, and continues to fuck me even as I go breathless and dizzy with pleasure. I gasp for air, inhaling the thick scent of his skin, sensation exploding through my fingertips, my hair, my lips, my clit.
Gabe slows, finally coming to a stop with his cock buried deep in me. He strokes my hair with one hand, gently rubs his thumb across my ass with the other. I finally inhale and come to my senses. It feels like I’m waking up, I’m so woozy and warm and happy.
“Good?” Gabe asks, turning his head slightly so our noses nearly touch.
I nod a little. Good doesn’t begin to cover the way that felt.
“You’ll be sore tomorrow,” Gabe warns.
“Really?”
“When I’m done, you’ll be sore tomorrow,” he says, now with a wicked sort of gleam in his eye. I bite my lip, more excited than nervous— at this point, I know I’ll allow Gabe to do anything to me, trusting his knowledge of ways to pleasure me above my own trepidation.
Gabe pushes me back up to sitting then sits up himself. He wraps my legs around his body, his cock still in me, and before I realize what he’s about to do, he stands up.
“Don’t drop me,” I warn— large as he is, I suppose I still worry I’ll be too heavy for him to carry.
He scoffs, then walks forward until my back is pressed against the wall of my room. I tremble as he steadiest himself, then takes hold of my ass cheeks with both hands, so his fingertips toy with my slit— and, the tiniest bit, with my asshole. He smiles when I startle at the sensation.
“So innocent,” he says, shaking his head a little. I smile— and then he begins to fuck me again. He drives deeper into me here, and with my back pressed against the wall and legs tight around him, I can’t move with his thrusts. The result is a harder, faster sensation, with his cock driving against the back of my pussy each time he enters me. I groan, squeeze my thighs— it makes it harder for him to get inside me, tight as I am, and it looks like the challenge excites him.
With such a large orgasm out of the way, my mind is a little clearer to appreciate how good he feels, how strong and muscular and hard he is against me, in me, on me. I grab hold of his shoulders and pull myself tighter against him; Gabe growls loud and long, then spins me off the wall and down to the floor. He’s on top of me, now, and he looms so large above me that I feel small and breakable and needy.
“Fuck me hard,” I beg, astounded to hear the words come out of my mouth.
Gabe laughs and groans at once. “You’re not ready for that,” he says.
“I am,” I pout, though I know he’s probably right.
He laughs again, then begins to thrust into me a touch harder, his cock ramming the back of my pussy, rubbing against the bottom of my clit with each stroke. “You’re not. But this won’t be our last time, Lucy. I’m going to fuck you every night. You’re going to be mine every night.”
“Yes,” I gasp, trying to spread my legs wider for him. He puts a hand beside my head to brace himself, then looks down into my eyes as he begins to fuck me hard— or as hard as he dares, I guess. He grits his teeth with pleasure that makes me so hot, I grab hold of his shoulders and lift my hips to meet his cock.
“Say it. Tell me you’re mine, Lucy,” Gabe commands, voice hungry and hard.
“I’m yours, Gabe,” I say, gasping— I’m going to come again, and if I’m reading the tense, focused look on his face correctly, he’s going to come with me. No— in me. I press harder into him and try to pulse my hips in time with his thrusts. My pussy clenches and my lips part as heat rockets through me.
“That’s right, you are. Your tight little pussy is for my cock, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I stammer. “Yes, Gabe, I’m going to come again—”
“Of course you are,” he says, struggling to get the words out amid panting. “And I’m going to come in your pussy. You’ll like that. Maybe even more than me coming on your tits.”
“Yes,” I gasp. His words are so hot, so arousing, so heady that I want to do the same to him. I say the first thing that comes to mind, the thing I’ve known was true since he came on me in that wine cellar, the thing so dirty that I can’t believe I’m willing to say it aloud— but I am when I know how hot it will make the man on top of me. “Use me to come. I’m yours.”
Gabe groans, and suddenly pushes deep, deep into m
e, then grabs me tight. His cock throbs in me— he’s coming, and the realization makes my own orgasm let loose. I cry out and grab for his muscles with my fingertips, desperate to hold onto something, trying to focus on the way it feels to have him filling me as we come together. Heat surges between us as we moan and hold on tightly.
I begin to regain my bearings first; Gabe collapses to the side, his cock sliding out of me so quickly that it makes me whimper in surprise at the emptiness. He breathes heavy for a moment, then tugs me up against him. My pussy is soaked, and looking down, I see his cock is still red and hard even under the condom. He reaches down and tugs it off, revealing just how hard he came.
“You’re so tight,” he says, like he’s mesmerized by what he just experienced. “I knew you’d be tight, being a virgin, but still.”
I smile against him, then reach down and dare to brush the top of his come-wet cock with my fingertips. He shudders, and I laugh quietly in delight.
“What’s so funny?” he asks playfully.
“I just…that was so good. That wasn’t at all what I expected my first time to be like. And now…I like seeing you still so hard for me,” I confess.
Gabe kisses my forehead quickly, then pulls my leg a little farther over his waist, so his erection is pressing into my upper thigh. “I’m glad you like it. Because I suspect I’m going to continue being very, very hard for you, Lucy. Fucking you is amazing.”
“Are you…” I bite my lip and stall. The farther we get away from that orgasm, the more my traditional shy walls reform. Gabe spanks my ass lightly, encouraging me to go on. “Are you really going to fuck me every night?”
Gabe looks down, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Are you asking because you’re afraid I’ll say yes, or afraid I’ll say no?”
“Afraid you’ll say no,” I admit.
Gabe grins. “I am going to make you come every night so long as you’ll let me, Lucy. But tomorrow night, you’re going to be far too sore for fucking, so you’re going to suck my cock.”
I quiver— I am not the sort of girl that lets people tell me what to do, but for some reason, when Gabe says it like this…I want to practically answer “yes, sir”. I don’t, but he must see the pleasure on my face, because he tilts my chin back and kisses me, long and deep.
“Lucy, baby. We’re going to have a very, very good time together,” he says against my lips.
Chapter 9
Gabe was right.
The following day, I’m so incredibly sore. It’s mostly a good ache, and I like that it reminds me of our night together. I’ve got to admit, though, that walking up the three flights of stairs to the top floor of the English building isn’t the best feeling in the world.
I wish there was someone I could tell all of this to, but who? Gabe has become locally ultra-famous after his work at the last football game, so any rumor about him dating someone— especially the daughter of a conservative senator— would be big. And besides, most of my friends are quiet, studious, and responsible— like me. Or at least, like me before I met Gabe. They’re just not the sort of people I can talk to about the feeling of being taken by a powerful man.
In the end, the only person I feel I can talk to about my night with Gabe is…Gabe. Which isn’t easy, since his practice schedule means I don’t hear him next door until almost seven o’clock that evening. He enters his room and, after a few moments, knocks on my door. I scramble to answer it, freshly showered and shaved and far more ready for him should he want me again immediately.
“Hey,” he says, smiling at me when the door swings open.
“Hi,” I say, and flush, though I’m not sure why. He’s seen me naked from multiple angles at this point, so it’s not like there’s much left to be shy about.
“Don’t look so worried,” he says, breaking into a grin. He ducks down and kisses me on the mouth, hard but reassuring. “I told you, I’ll give you a break tonight. You’re sore, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I say, exhaling. “But I also wish I wasn’t. Because I don’t want a break. I mean. Not because I didn’t like it…” I babble as Gabe enters my room and sits down on a chair. It’s pink and tiny and, after looking perplexed by its existence for a moment, he stands back up, clearly worried he’ll break the thing.
“The team nutritionist is dropping off dinner for me. Want to split it?” Gabe asks.
“Doesn’t that mean I’m eating something you’re supposed to be eating? Won’t it mess up your numbers or intake or whatever?” I ask. I’ve heard tales of the football team nutritionist, and my understanding is she has spreadsheets for her spreadsheets. I’m sure she won’t have calculated for part of Gabe’s food to go to the RA living next door.
Gabe scoffs at the notion. “People have been dictating my meals since I was seventeen. I didn’t have much of a choice before, so now that I do, fuck that. I’ll eat what I like, thanks.”
I nod, then ask, “Since you were seventeen? How so?”
Gabe goes quiet. He’s always so quick to respond to anything I say, so his silence is noticeable. Whatever it is, he obviously doesn’t want to talk about it.
“Were your parents super strict about what you ate?” I ask in an effort to fill the silence. It makes no sense, since he said people were dictating his food since he was seventeen, and why would his parents start then? But I’m not thinking, I’m babbling. I sit down in the chair he recently abandoned, and Gabe takes the spot at my desk chair. “My parents are super strict too.”
“So I gathered,” Gabe says, shaking his head a little. “Your dad is…intense.”
“Yeah. I mean, he’s my dad. I love him,” I say quickly.
“Of course.”
“And it’s not like any dad would be totally cool about catching his daughter in a romantic basement with a guy.”
“Right.”
“He’s just protective.”
“I’m not arguing with you, Lucy,” Gabe says, lifting his eyebrows. “You know that, right? I get it. Just because he was a dick to me doesn’t mean I expect you to hate your dad on my account.”
I smile a little, then sigh. “Well. I’m sorry he was a dick to you, at least. And sorry I sort of…I mean, after that, when I didn’t answer your texts or…”
Gabe snorts. “You did in the end. That’s what’s important. Besides, if you hadn’t, I’d think you were just interested in me to rebel against daddy. You know— hook up with a bad boy, show the parents who’s boss, that sort of thing. If I wanted a girl like that, I’m pretty sure I could pick her up on sorority row.”
I laugh, particularly at the idea of calling my father “Daddy”— Southern as we may be, that term is way too cute and adorable for the relationship he and I have. Through the laugh, though, I feel a lick of excitement in my chest— not arousal, but genuine excitement. If I wanted a girl like that. That must mean he wants me, and not just for my inexperience or because I’m conveniently located right next door, right?
“What?” Gabe asks.
“Hm?” my eyes lift to his.
Gabe smiles slyly. “You’re thinking something that I want to hear you say, I can tell. So what is it?”
I exhale— how does he do stuff like this? Was he raised by psychics or something? Conceived in Miss Cleo’s parlor? Are his parents X-men? Given how little I know about Gabe’s past, those don’t seem likely entirely outlandish theories.
“So you didn’t want me just for…the sex?” I say, trying to make the words casual, like I don’t care about his answer.
His smiles goes from sly to arrogant in a flash. “Of course I wanted you for the sex,” he says, and rises from the desk chair. He walks over to me, stopping just in front of me. His hand swoops down and gently tilts my chin up. “From the moment you walked into my room, I wanted you for the sex. But then you tried to throw me out of it.”
“True,” I say carefully, unsure where he’s headed. He strokes my cheek with his thumb, and despite the fact that I’m sore from last night’s games, I fee
l myself growing wet at his nearness. Maybe I was wrong— maybe he wasn’t raised by psychics, but rather, sex gods. The old school kind— like Aphrodite and…was there a male sex god? I can’t remember…
“And that was what started me wanting you for reasons that have nothing to do with sex. You’re not afraid of me. I like that. Most people are, especially girls.”
“Why are they afraid of you? Because you’re enormous?” I ask.
Gabe looks away, and the arrogance slides off his face for a beat. “Basically,” he says, then releases my chin and returns to his desk chair. He’s hiding something, again, I’m certain, but I’m not sure how to ask. I’m wary to ask, even— if he doesn’t want to tell me and I pry, will he leave? I decide instantly that I’d rather not know— at least, for the time being.
“So…” I say slowly, and rise. I try to do it seductively, but the damn pink chair isn’t exactly sexy. You have to heave yourself out of it to stand.
“So?” Gabe asks.
I take a few steps toward him. “You said you’d give me a break…from sex. But you also said we’d do something else.”
“Sweet little Lucy, look at you,” he says, shaking his head— though a flash of hunger finds his eyes. “I was going to wait until after dinner to have you suck me off, but you seem to be ready to go now.”
I blush, deep and red. “I wanted to try it. Finishing you in my mouth, I mean.”
“You’ve never done it before?” Gabe asks.
“I’d never even gotten as far as I did before that night in the wine cellar,” I admit. “I’d done…I mean, I’d used my hand on a boyfriend before. But it wasn’t great.”
He beckons me closer to him, and I obey, walking up till my thighs hit his knees. He’s still sitting, and when he wanders his eyes up and down my body, I feel like I’m being judged by a king on his throne.
“You’re beautiful, you know?” he says, voice low. He reaches forward and around me, squeezing my ass cheek and drawing me tight against his knees. It causes me to stumble a little, but I fall squarely onto his lap; Gabe sweeps my legs up so I’m cradled in his arms, my feet dangling off the arm of the chair. I wiggle against his erection, already hard and ready, and Gabe groans in the back of his throat.