by J. L. Beck
There are various dresses and shirts hanging up, but none of them look appealing to me. I’m not the partying type. I’m lucky to even be able to wear jeans instead of the floor-length dresses my father required since the day I started walking.
Tasha sifts through the clothing before pulling out a pair of black flats, black skinny jeans, and a white flowy blouse that will show off my boobs.
“I can’t wear that,” I hiss.
Tasha raises a brow, giving me a look that says put it on or else. After standing there for a few minutes with my arms crossed over my chest, I give in.
I eye myself in the mirror. Up. Down. And back again. It’s so strange what a change in clothing can do for someone.
Tasha sees me checking myself out and smiles. “Girl, if you don’t walk out of that party with at least three cocks trying to poke you, then those bastards are blind and their penises are broken.”
I giggle. Her words are crude, but also make me feel like the young college student I’m supposed to be. Tasha does my makeup and hair, curling the ends slightly. By the time she’s done, I feel like a completely different person.
I stare at my reflection. My parents would never approve of the woman I am right now. They’d never approve of the clothes, the makeup, or the hair, and this fact alone leaves me feeling guilty.
It’s hard to leave old habits when they’ve been your structure of life forever. But that guilt dissipates when my thoughts turn to Hero. What would he think if he saw me?
“If you’re done drooling over your own reflection, can we go?”
I roll my eyes as a bubble of laughter escapes my red painted lips. “Yes, Tasha, we can go. God forbid the dicks get there before you do.”
Tasha gasps as her hand clutches her chest. “Did you just say dicks? Sweet baby Jesus, I’ve officially corrupted you!”
Her words earn her another eye-roll as we head out of the dorm toward the frat houses on University Street.
Music blasts through the speakers as we walk into the “football” house. According to Tasha, it’s where all the football players live, and from the looks of it, I believe her. The place smells of beer and sweat, but that could just be all the bodies and beer sloshing around. Tasha pulls me through the crowd toward the kitchen. There are bottles of liquor everywhere, beer cans, and red solo cups.
Breathe, Elyse. It’s just a party.
Forcing air into my lungs, I watch as Tasha tells some guy manning the drinks what we want.
He scoffs at her, but winks at me when my eyes lift to his.
He’s cute enough, but he’s not Hero. I shake the thought away. I don’t even know him. He could be a mass murderer.
The guy in front of me hands me a cup filled with red liquid. My nose wrinkles as I smell the drink before taking a sip of it. As soon as I taste it, I want more. The flavor explodes against my tongue. I’ve never tasted something so delicious before. But I don’t even get a moment to enjoy the rest of my drink because a hand comes out of nowhere, slapping my cup from my grasp.
The colorful, fruity liquid spills all over my clothes and the floor.
“Are you fucking stupid?”
I don’t even need to turn around to see where that hand or voice came from. The hair stands up on the back of my neck and goosebumps spread out all over my skin.
It’s him.
I stare down at my empty hand, still forming a half circle as if the glass hadn’t vanished.
What just happened?
“I asked you a question. Are you stupid? Don’t you know you never drink anything a guy hands you at a party?” he snarls.
I lift my gaze to his. His eyes are dark and look almost black as his eyebrows pull together in anger. He looks past me, scanning the room for something.
Confusion settles into my brain. A second later, he finds whatever or whoever, because his eyes go from dark to midnight black as he steps past me, zeroing in on the guy who made my drink.
Like a wild animal on the hunt, he walks over to him.
The guy turns, and his eyes fill with pure fear as Hero wraps his hand wrapped around his throat.
“Please, man,” he begs, his voice nothing more than a wheeze.
Hero swings back his free arm and his fist connects with the guy’s cheekbone at full force. I’m halfway across the room, but I swear I can hear the bone crunch.
The guy’s eyes roll back, and his whole body goes limp. With a loud thud, he hits the floor.
The room goes quiet, and all eyes are on Hero. My mouth is still hanging wide open as Hero makes his way back toward me.
Fear is a real emotion, and one I’m feeling it to the core. I take a small step back for every one of his large strides, like I would have a chance to get away. It’s such a silly thought, but one I’d consider if my eyes would remain focused for less than half a second.
A moment later, his hands are around my arms. He’s ushering me through a door and outside.
My feet can barely keep up with his rushed pace. If it weren’t for his strong hold on me, I would have fallen on my face by now. “What was wrong with the drink and where are you taking me?” I ask, when I realize he’s walking in the opposite direction of my dorm.
Oh no. I’m being kidnapped. Everything my father ever said to me about the world is true.
“My place,” he says, matter of fact.
I know I should be terrified right now. I should be running and blowing that stupid rape whistle they gave me at orientation, but something tells me I’m going to be fine. My vision is blurry, and my stomach rolls with each step we take.
We walk a few more minutes before I start feeling really weird. My legs wobble, and my head feels like it’s filling up with air. “I feel weird,” I admit, and even my voice sounds off. “What’s happening to me?” I whine.
Hero studies me for a long moment, his arm tightening around my waist. “Shhh, it’s okay. Nothing is going to happen to you. Not while you're with me,” he says, his voice low and tone calming.
My brain says I shouldn't trust him, but my gut says he’s telling me the truth.
I’m fine. He’s got me.
Chapter Three
Hero
By the time we get to my apartment complex, Elyse is so out of it, I have to carry her up the stairs. I hold her against my chest, cradling her. Her small frame fits perfectly into my arms. Her soft curves mold against my body. We fit perfectly together, like she’s the puzzle piece I wasn't even aware I was missing.
I manage to unlock the door and switch on the light without having to set her down. Using my foot, I kick the door shut behind me, then click the lock into place. As soon as the world is shut out, a sense of calm washes over me.
I’ve got her, here, in my apartment.
A small moan escapes her mouth, and the sensual sounds travel straight to my dick.
Not now, asshole.
Pushing the need down, I carry her into my bedroom and place her on my bed. Her eyes are only halfway open, but her soft gaze follows me around the room.
I walk around the bed, trying to decide what to do next. Her pants are wet and sticky from the spilled drink—the drink I spilled. I scold myself. I should take them off. Just to get her more comfortable.
Then again…
My jaw clenches as I make a choice. Leaning over her, I unbutton her skinny jeans. She doesn't say anything, but her chest rises and falls in quick succession.
“I’m not going to hurt you, and I'm not going to touch you unless you want me to. I’m just getting these off you.” I swallow as I pull down the zipper, careful not to touch anything more than I need to, even though every fiber in my body wants nothing more than to touch her anywhere I can.
I dip my fingers into her waistband and pull her pants down.
Light blue cotton panties come into view as I skim those jeans off her legs inch by inch. Her legs are slender and pale, just like the rest of her body. By the time I manage to get her pants off, my dick is so hard, it hurts.
> Down, boy.
I can’t have her. Not now. Not like this. She’s only half awake, and I have no idea if she’ll remember any of this tomorrow. I can’t take advantage of her, and I won't.
Her eyes are still fixed on mine, and I am more than glad to see there is no fear left in them. It’s probably just the drug circling through her system, but I don’t care. I’ll take it. Her trusting gaze means the world to me at this moment.
It’s been so long since anyone has looked at me like this, I almost forgot what it felt like. To be trusted...to be wanted.
I sit down next to her on the bed, gazing down at the flowery blouse hugging her frame. The tops of her breasts are exposed, and I wonder how nice they would feel in my hands. I’m sure they would fit perfectly—just like everything else.
Fuck, she is perfect for me.
My hands move on their own accord, hovering over the buttons on her blouse.
She would probably be more comfortable if I took that off as well. I start unbuttoning her shirt from the top and work my way down until every single one is undone.
Her shirt falls open, revealing a matching light blue bra. My fingers glide over her feather-like skin as I slide the thin fabric down her arms.
I stop to gaze down at the goddess lying in front of me. I need to stop. I need to get away before I go too far. Turning my head, I push myself off the bed.
“Please,” she whispers so softly, I almost didn’t hear her.
I twist back to face her, finding her eyes pleading and fragile little hand reaching for me.
I’m not sure what she’s pleading for. Hell, she might not even know herself. All I know is my heart just stopped beating and jump started itself into an unnatural rhythm.
I take her hand and let her pull me down next to her. She turns her head toward me, but it's not enough. I grasp onto her bare hip and pull her onto her side so we are facing each other. I know I need to stop touching her, but the desire is just so overwhelming. I reach for her face, cupping her smooth cheek in my hand.
“Have you ever done anything like this? Been touched or claimed by a man?” I swallow, knowing a part of me will break in two if she says yes. I want to be the man to fuck her for the first time, to devour her pussy and claim her as a man should.
“No. Never,” she finally answers, her voice small and timid, unsure.
Happiness pools in my belly. “Do you want me to touch you now?” I croak, the question hanging in the air between us. I'm not a good man. I'm not kind or gentle either, but I want to be. For her. I want to be everything I’ve never been before.
“Yes,” she whimpers, her eyes pleading, as if she wants me as badly as I want her.
That simple word is all I need for that thread of restraint to rip. I reach behind her, undoing the clasp of her bra before I move her onto her back.
Hovering over her, I pull the bra off, revealing the most perfect pair of tits I have ever laid eyes on. Two delicious round mounds with a small pink taut nipple on each, begging to be in my mouth.
I don’t leave them waiting long. Bringing my mouth to her breast, I wrap my lips around one of the stiff tips. She moans, sending all the blood left in my brain straight to my cock.
Using my hand, I seek out her other breast and roll her nipple between two fingers while I suck the other one in earnest.
Elyse arches her back, crushing my mouth to her tit. I know she wants this, I just don’t know how much of this is the drugs and how much is her. I can only let this go so far. She's innocent, naive, and I don't want her to regret this.
A voice in the back of my mind is still telling me to stop, but every one of her needy moans pushes that voice farther and farther away, until it vanishes altogether.
“Kiss me.” Her voice is breathless.
I release her tit from my mouth with a loud pop. Gazing down into her eyes, I know I want this. I want it so fucking bad, it hurts. But I've gotta stop.
This is her first time experiencing something, and I want her to remember it—remember me. Pressing my lips against hers, I kiss her with every fiber of my being. When she lifts her arms, wrapping them around my neck, molding us together, I pull away. I have to.
My cock’s stiffer than hell. It's getting harder and harder to remain in control.
Elyse whines in disappointment, a frown pulling at her plump lips.
I think about lying next to her and just going to sleep, but there’s no way I’ll be able to get a minute of rest with this raging hard-on. “I’m going to go take a shower. I’ll be back in a little bit,” I whisper into her hair before moving down to place another kiss to her lips.
Her eyes flutter closed, and she murmurs something beneath her breath.
I grab my comforter to cover her up before I disappear into the bathroom. I’ve never smiled so much in my life. Hell, I’ve never been happier. It’s a strange feeling…happiness, that is.
When you grow up the way I did, you question everything—good, bad—and are ready at any given moment for disappointment because you’re used to it. I strip out of my jeans, t-shirt, and boxers to eye myself in the mirror.
I’ve got a couple tattoos, but my best feature is the piercing at the tip of my cock. I think of Elyse’s expression when she sees it for the first time. Will she feel fear or arousal? I don’t want to scare her away, but the things I want from her aren’t something I’m sure she can deliver.
I turn on the shower and step into the spray. It’s cold for a second, then turns hot. Resting with my back against the tiles, I take my length into my hand, close my eyes, and shove the thoughts away. Elyse is what I want...what I need. She makes up for all the bad I’ve done in my life.
But will she want me when she finds out I’m a killer?
I hiss out in pleasure as I stroke myself, up and down, up and down, my muscles tightening. My hold tightens as my hand slips over the head and back down.
My thoughts shift to Elyse. Her perfect lips. The way her eyes sparkle when she looks at me. Even with fear in her eyes, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
My jaw clenches, and my strokes become more furious as images of Elyse beneath me fill my mind, her pussy stretching and taking my cock as I pump into her.
Her moans of pleasure, her pleading for more, the erotic look in her eyes as she falls apart all over my cock. I wonder what her nails will feel like raking over my skin.
I feel the build deep in my balls as I curl my toes into the tub, feeling my insides spiral out of control. Air fills my lungs, but never fully inflates them.
I feel out of control. I pump harder, and harder, I groan, the pleasure encompassing me all at once. Sticky ropes of cum hit the wall while my body shakes with aftershocks, my muscles tense.
I sigh, sagging completely against the wall. This woman…she’s ruining me, fucking ruining me, and the worst part is I want her to keep doing it.
I want to be better. I want to make her happy. But most of all, I want her.
Chapter Four
Elyse
I know something is off before I even open my eyes. The bed feels different, warmer. The comforter feels rougher, and it doesn't smell like my lavender laundry detergent.
My eyes open slowly, feeling dry and icky. I don’t start panicking until I’m able to take in the unfamiliar room. My heart starts racing, pumping blood into every muscle in my body. Sitting up in a flash, the comforter slides down to my belly. I’m wearing a shirt I’m one hundred percent certain isn’t mine. A hundred little snapshots from last night enter my mind at the same time.
Not one of them makes sense.
Someone stirring next to me grabs my undivided attention. I look beside me and find a large body half covered up with the same blanket I’m using. His bare, broad shoulders and tousled dark hair is all I see.
Clasping the blanket around my body, I jump up, trying to get away. My still clumsy feet get wrapped up in the comforter, making me tumble off the bed. With a loud thud, I land on the floor.
>
“Shit, are you okay?” Hero’s voice sounds concerned as he stirs from sleep. The next moment, he’s by my side, kneeling next to me.
Tears start to run down my cheek uncontrollably.
What have I done?
I’ve given up my virginity to someone I barely know, and I don’t even remember it.
“Hey. Don’t cry.” Hero holds my face in his large hands, wiping my tears away with his thumbs.
His touch sends shivers of pleasure down my spine. The feeling feels familiar and some of the images from last night come to me more clearly.
Images of him taking my clothes off, touching me, kissing me, and, oh god, me begging him… What was I begging him to do? I cringe. It wouldn’t surprise me if he didn’t want to see me again after last night.
I open my mouth to say something, but before I can, he picks my still wrapped up body up like I weigh nothing and deposits me back on the bed.
His bed.
Scurrying backwards, I try to calm myself by lifting my gaze to his. There's a softness in his eyes I want to reach out and touch. Still, the question on the tip of my tongue remains. I ask it before I lose the courage.
“Did you...? I mean, did we…?” I trail off, dropping my eyes to the floor. Guilt and shame coat me from the inside out. I don’t remember going that far, but my mind is still a jumbled mess. My body still feels the same, and there’s no soreness between my legs...but that doesn’t mean anything, right? Bile rises in my throat—and I panic. Had I just accused Hero of raping me? My head is a mess, my thoughts swirling all together.
“Have sex?” he finishes my question, his tone a bit condescending. “No. When I’m inside your virgin pussy for the first time, I want to be certain you feel, and remember, every single thing.”
My cheeks heat.
Will there be a first time?
I remember my reaction to him last night, the pleasure that coursed through my veins, the way my body lit up like a Christmas tree at the press of his lips and touch of his hands.
“You’re thinking about it now, aren’t you? Thinking about how you almost gave yourself to a monster—a man you don’t even fucking know, a man who could’ve raped you, violated you, took your innocence and hurt you.” His words are dark, his gaze even darker, almost manic.