Two weeks have passed. Two weeks since I brought Pamona here, made her mine. My property, my slave, my slut. And yet, she hasn’t asked me to fuck her yet. No matter what I’ve done.

I think back to the first week. Every night, I’d seduced her at dinner. Watched her eyes go wide, her mouth part with want. She wants me, that much is clear. But she resists my advances every time. Even if she lets me finger her, she never breaks, never begs for more.

Just last night, I thought she would finally cave. I stumbled in on her in the living room, a finger in her pussy. She didn’t stop when I came in. Only caught my eye, defiant, and kept touching herself. I stood across from her and undid my jeans. Pulled out my cock and jerked off right there in front of her. She was practically salivating, watching my cock, and yet, she never made a move. Never asked me for more. When we both came, she just stood up and pulled her skirt down, then walked out of the room as if nothing happened.

Why won’t she beg yet?

Why won’t she break?

It’s been two weeks, and I only have two weeks left until the deadline. I can’t afford to wait any longer. I need to escalate this now. I need to break her, completely, until she’s willing to make that video. To humiliate her father, ruin his family legacy. And better yet, make it clear to him who brought about his ruin.

A dark thrill of pleasure runs through me, imagining it.

And yet, at the same time, I can’t ignore the little voice at the back of my head. The voice asking, How will Pamona feel? How will that video affect her life, her plans?

I shake my head. Lift my eyes to the portraits I’m standing beneath, in the drawing room that we’ve emptied out, everything except her piano, because none of us could bear to touch that.

I gaze into my mother’s eyes, painted in perfect, almost painful detail on the largest portrait in the room. I study her face, her gentle smile, the spark of pleasure in her gaze. I remember her the way she was. Before him.

I need to remember why I am doing this. Pamona is nothing more than a stepping-stone—a path to revenge. She can never be anything more.

I turn to leave the room when something catches my eye. Another painting, one of my mother’s less elaborate ones. Just a study of roses, growing on the trellis in the garden. But her brush strokes are long and fanciful, and the style reminds me immediately of Pamona. The way she began to sketch those roses, the way she tilted her head, studying them, catching the light in just the right way…

I shake my head again. I need to stop this.

Or rather, I need to remind myself what it’s all for.

I stride upstairs. Pamona’s door is open—she’s begun doing that, saying that given how often I stop by unannounced, she might as well. But I think she’s beginning to relax here. It looks like it, when I peer in the room and find her reading in bed, curled up on her side, dressed in one of the silk shifts I gave her. She looks so casual, so unconcerned.

That needs to change.

My chest clenches at the thought of disturbing her, but that’s exactly why I must. “Pamona,” I say, and she looks over her shoulder, her eyes brightening for a moment before she remembers herself and erases the smile that started to touch her lips. “Come with me.”

This game has gone on long enough.

She must recognize the command in my tone because she sets aside her book without protest and stands. Crosses the room, trails after me as I lead her through the hallway. I take her to one of the locked rooms, just beside the lounge where she stripped for me that first night.

I remember the way she stared me down, her defiant gaze as she pulled that flimsy summer dress off, and I suppress a shiver of lust.

I unlock the door and guide her inside. The room is dark, but I’ve had the maids prepare it already. Candles dot the corners, the only illumination. Oils are laid out beside them, every scent imaginable. In the center of the room is a broad massage table.

“Do you know how to give a massage, Pamona?” I ask.

She swallows hard. Steps into the room beside me, not meeting my gaze. “I don’t.”

I close the door behind us. “Well, you’ve proven to be a quick learner. I’m sure you’ll pick this up in no time.”

“I don’t know…” She glances from me to the table and then back to me.

I smirk. “Don’t worry. Even if you fumble, I’ll enjoy your touch, my little virgin.”

She shivers, and I step closer. Breathe in that familiar scent of hers, intoxicatingly sweet.

“Take off my clothes,” I tell her. She reaches for my shirt first. Begins to unbutton it slowly, her hands quivering which makes her struggle with the buttons. I wait patiently, until she manages to finally peel the shirt off. When she goes for my jeans, though, I catch her hands. Guide them to the clasp myself, and move her fingers for her.

“Do I make you nervous?” I ask, squeezing her hands pointedly, as she trembles.

“A little,” she admits, not meeting my gaze.

I grin. “Good.” I let go of one of her hands, tap her chin gently until she looks up at me. “You’re allowed to enjoy the view, you know,” I remind her. “I can tell you want to.”

She swallows hard, but glances down at my chest all the same. For a moment she lets go of my jean clasp to run her hand along my abs, then up slowly to my pecs.

“See. There’s nothing wrong with liking what you see.” I smirk.

She flushes, bright red, then, and drops her hand back to my jeans. I feel a sharp pulse in my cock at the sight of her blush. Her hesitant innocence never fails to turn me on. The way I scare her almost as much as I attract her. I cannot get enough of that.

She manages to undo my jeans, and pushes them down, blushing even more at the sight of my stiffening cock. I just grin at her and strip my boxers off myself.

“There are oils on the table. I’ll tell you what to do,” I reassure her as I climb onto the massage table and lie facedown.

My plan is to break down her nerves about touching me. Even when she does touch me, when she sucked me off in the garden, she was so hesitant, so careful. I need her to get desperate, hungry, in order for this to work. This seemed like the easiest way to relax her around me.

She spills some oil into her hand, and tips it from her palm onto the small of my back. It’s warm and I relax against the table, peering over my shoulder at her. “Rub it in, Pamona.”

She starts to run her hands along my back, softly. Hesitantly at first, so light that I barely feel it. But as she trails her palms up to my neck, then back down along my shoulders, tracing them, she starts to put a little more weight into it, her fingers working my muscles gently.

I can feel the semi I already had starting to get harder as her hands continue to explore my skin. I tell her where to touch, and she obeys every time, her hands gliding across my back. But I didn’t expect her soft caresses to turn me on this much. The way she’s slowly opening up, relaxing about touching me, is making me wild. Before long, I’m hard as hell, my cock digging into the padded massage table. It takes every ounce of control I have not to grind my hips against the table, and it’s starting to ache from the effort.

At last, when I can’t stay in this position any longer without inflicting some serious pain on myself, I roll onto my back.

Pamona backs away a step, gasping at the sudden motion. I watch her eyes widen when she takes in my cock, standing straight and proud, so high it almost touches my stomach when I lay back down.

“Keep going,” I tell her.

She visibly swallows, then reaches down slowly to touch my pecs.

“Harder,” I say.

She digs her fingers into my muscles, and all the while, I keep my eyes on her face, her hands, her chest as it starts to heave with anticipation.

“Lower,” I tell her, and she moves to my stomach, tracing my abs, then my sides. Avoiding my cock for as long as she can.

“Lower, Pamona,” I repeat, when she lingers too long over my abs, and she glances nervously at my face before she touches my thighs. Then, slowly, she reaches up to touch my cock, wrapping both hands around me.

We both groan, and my eyes flutter half-shut, the sensation of her soft, smooth hands on my rock hard cock driving me wild. She starts to slide her hands up and down my shaft, both at once, clumsy and inexperienced. But that only makes it hotter, knowing that I’m the first man she ever touched this way. This is the first time she’s had a man’s cock in her hands, the first time she’s tightened her grip and started to pump her hands…

Fuck.

I was already sensitive as hell, getting worked up while she massaged me. I’m far too close to the edge now. I reach down and catch her hands, stopping her.

“Your turn, Pamona.”

She lets go of my cock, though reluctantly, and I smirk as I slide off the table to stand beside her. “Strip.”

She lifts her shift off and drops it beside the table. She’s not wearing a bra, only panties, and I don’t even need to command her to remove them. One glance from me and she’s already pushing them down her long, smooth thighs.

“Lie down.”

She climbs onto the table, lies on her back, and I pick up a bottle of warming oil. Spread it across her soft skin and begin to work it into her back. I take my time, moving along her spine first, then out over her shoulders, down her sides, pressing hard enough to elicit little gasps and squirms from her as I work the kinks from her muscles. But as I get lower, those muscles start to tense again, and by the time I’m massaging her ass, I can tell that any relaxation she may have gotten from the massage is going right out the window from how quickly she’s getting turned on.

“You are the sexiest, most innocent little girl,” I murmur as I spread her legs and slide my hands up her inner thighs.

She gasps again, louder this time.

“Or maybe not so innocent,” I amend, as I reach her pussy and find her lips wet with desire. I spread them, oil still coating my fingers, and trace her lips, her mound, her slit, my fingers moving steadily but surely, accustomed to the fastest way to make her beg now. It doesn’t take long before I have one finger pushing inside her, curled to graze along her front wall, and my thumb pressed over her clit, massaging in slow, gentle circles.

“You can’t hide how much you want me, Pamona. Not in here.” I curl my finger and drag it along her inner wall to make my point. She gasps and arches against the table, her hips bucking. I take advantage of that movement to thrust my finger deeper inside her.

“You want to feel my cock inside you. You want me to claim you as mine, once and for all.”

She gasps, but doesn’t respond. On the other hand, it’s not a denial. I reach up to twirl her nipple between my other fingers, rolling it slowly back and forth as she twists against the table. When she’s fully distracted by that, I slide a second finger inside her pussy in response. Start to fuck her faster. “Beg me, Pamona. Beg, and I will fuck you.”

A moan is my only reply.

I switch to her other nipple, leaning down to lick the already-hard nipple while I roll her other between my thumb and forefinger. Her lips part, eyes going wide. I grin up at her and tongue her breast as I massage the other, all the while keeping my finger gliding in and out of her soaking wet pussy.

Soon she’s writhing against the massage bed, lost in pleasure.

“Pamona,” I whisper against her sensitive skin.

She moans faintly.

I slide a third finger in, stretching her to her limits. She groans now, a desperate, keening sound. “Come on, Pamona. Beg for me. Tell me you need me.”

I expect her to deny it, as she has every time before. But this time, something seems to have changed, switched a flip she didn’t dare before. Pamona lifts her leg over my head so my fingers remain deep inside her pussy. She locks eyes with me, and fuck, the sight of her naked and splayed out before me, my finger buried in her, is enough to drive me wild.

“I need you,” she whispers, barely audibly.

I smile.

Because this is it. This is Pamona Badiary, right where I want her.

“You need me to what, Pamona? Speak up, I can’t hear you?” I ask, because I’m going to make her say it. I’m going to make her beg.

“Fuck me,” she says, her voice low, ashamed.

“Louder.”

“I need you to fuck me, Farrow,” she repeats, and the sound of that, plus my name in her mouth, makes my cock pulse with red-hot lust.

“Say it again.”

“Fuck me, Farrow.”

“Beg.”

“Please,” she moans, her eyes desperate. Finally. “Please fuck me, I need it, I need you to fuck me.”

Only then do I pull her roughly down to the edge of the massage table and grab for the condoms I hid behind the bottles of oil. I push one on, even as I continue to roll my thumb across her clit.

Then I spread her legs, lift her ankles over my shoulders, grab her ass and pull her to the very edge of the table, open and waiting for me.

And finally, finally, I thrust my cock deep inside her wet, hot, tight virgin pussy.

The sensation is unlike anything I’ve felt before. She contracts around me, groaning, half in pleasure and half in pain as my cock stretches her tight walls wide.

“God, your virgin pussy is fucking amazing.”

Her eyes widen at that, but she clenches her thighs around me, watching almost nervously as I draw out of her once more.

I take it slow at first, thrusting fully inside her and drawing out slowly, enjoying the view as she writhes on the table in front of me before I thrust deep inside of her again.

She moans, her head falling back, and I reach up to flatten my palm across her chest, pinning her to the table as I thrust into her once more.

“Tell me how it feels, Pamona. Tell me how losing your virginity, being deflowered and fucked on this table feels.”

I speed up my thrusts, my hips pounding against hers, as she struggles to catch her breath enough to answer.

“Fuck… It…” Her eyes find mine, widen. “Fucking amazing.”

I smirk, and start to fuck her in earnest. Her pussy tightens around me, and I reach between us to stroke her clit. Only a few strokes sets her off, and before long she’s crying out, bucking against the table as I continue to pound my cock into her, loving her expression when she comes, when she lets down her guard and I can fully claim her.

“That’s it. Come for me, you know you fucking love it,” I growl.

I keep fucking her until I can’t stand it anymore, until I stroke her clit to orgasm twice more, and she’s so fucking hot writhing on the table, coming on my cock, and the need to finish is overwhelming and urgent. I grip both of her hips in my hands, hard enough to leave a mark, and thrust into her quickly, over and over again.

I finish with a loud groan, sparks flying behind my eyes as I come so hard that I’m afraid I’ll break the condom. I pull out of her in one smooth motion, but my legs are limp, my breath coming hard, and I just need to feel her naked body against mine. I slide onto the table beside her, pull her in close against me. I tell myself it’s about the hot scent coming off her, sex and her scent mingled with mine. I tell myself that I just want to feel her smooth skin against my body, her soft curves melding into my muscles.

I tell myself it’s normal to hold someone after you fuck them, especially when it’s their first time.

I tell myself this is all normal. This is fine. I’m not in danger of anything.

“Do you feel different after that?” I ask her, catching her eye.

She’s smiling, damn her. Actually smiling, a real one, and it’s fucking dazzling to watch. “I do, actually…” She shakes her head, then buries it against my chest, in one simple gesture that throws me completely off-guard. “I can’t say why, though. I mean, I never thought being a virgin was a huge deal, just an experience to have, but…” She kisses my chest lightly, and my chest clenches, painfully. “Are all first times as good as that?” she whispers.

I laugh softly, and lean down to kiss her head. “No. Definitely not.”

But she’s not the only one who feels different now. I frown, lost in thought about what just happened, why that felt like so much more than a revenge-fuck…

When I come to again, I realize she’s staring up at me, a crease between her eyebrows. “What’s wrong?” she asks.

I lift my arm from around her. Run it through my hair instead. “Nothing.” I flip over, back on the table, and then smirk down at her, sideways. “Well. Nothing except for the fact that you aren’t sucking my cock again…”