“What? Wait, if we could just talk for a second—”

He doesn’t stop or even slow at my continued protests.

No, he just continues up the stairs, my body jolting with each step.

Holy crap, what if he drops me on my head? Without thinking about it, my hands drop to his lower back to steady myself. The iron hard muscles there do nothing to assuage my escalating terror.

Damn, this guy is built like a Mack Truck. He’s thick around the waist like a boxer and from what I can tell, it’s all pure muscle. He’s inhumanely big. Like a normal human except he comes in an extra-large size. His back is broader. Neck is thicker. Thighs are more massive. He takes the stairs two at a time like he’s not carrying a hundred-and-thirty-pound lead weight over his shoulder.

He pulls out a set of keys from his pocket, unlocks his door and then we’re inside.

I have an upside-down view since I’m still over his shoulder and at first I’m afraid to look around. What if there are, I don’t know… huge pentagrams painted on the walls or sacrificial altars set up?

But when I finally peek it looks… well… normal.

Except, you know, for the huge giant who’s holding me essentially captive. And the fact that there’s barely any light up here. Just a small lamp above a mantle that casts the whole room in shadow.

There’s a large desk pushed up against one wall. It has two large monitors on it with a laptop hooked up between them. Both screens are dark now.

Well, that answers that question. He’s not anti-technology, he just planned well in advance and doesn’t want me having access to the outside world. Awesome. That’s not super creepy at all.

And the other major feature of the room is a bed.

A huge king size bed. God, the thing looks bigger than king size. Do they make them bigger than king size?

“So what’s your name?” I ask, my face still inches away from his jean-clad ass. “I’m Melanie. I mean, obviously you know that. But you know, we never really did the whole introductions thing.”

The next thing I know, I’m flying ass over ankles as he tosses me on the bed.

He looms over me like the monster in some movie.

Oh God, oh God, just keep talking. Humanize yourself to your captor, isn’t that what they say? Besides, I always chatter when I’m nervous.

“You have a really beautiful library.” I try for a smile that I’m sure comes off more as a pained grimace. “I thought at first it was just lots of old books, like, for decoration. But then I found the contemporary section. You really like mysteries, huh? Lee Child books? He’s great, one of my favorites, I—”

He reaches back and pulls his t-shirt off over his head.

Holy bulging muscles, Batman.

I gulp and without really thinking about it scramble backward on the bed.

He’s just so exponentially large.

He reaches down and grabs my ankle, yanking me back to him in one swift tug.

“Xavier,” he says. “My name.”

And then he reaches into the drawer beside his bedside and pulls out a knife.

Giant psycho’s going to kill me.

I’m about to die.

I screech and try to roll away from him but his huge hand clamps easily around my ankle yet again.

“Hold still,” he growls.

And then I hear the sound of fabric being cut. I look down wide-eyed to see he’s slicing my expensive Gucci pants off me, starting at the ankle. Once he gets to the knee of each leg, he starts to rip, his muscles flexing.

He has to use the knife again to cut through the top where the belt loops are. I lay panting in terror.

“You could have just asked me to take them off,” I whisper as he pulls the ruined fabric from around my body. I want to drop my hands to cover myself, but God, it won’t do any good, will it?

This is happening and there’s no stopping it.

“I didn’t like them,” is all he says.

My favorite gray silk blouse is the next to go. He doesn’t have to use the knife. He just rips it open and the buttons all come off in a consecutive set of explosive pops.

Then he flips me over on the bed so I’m face down.

Ridiculously, I wonder: Does he just expect me to go around the mansion naked all the time now? Because that will be comfortable.

Gotta love my knack for worrying about the really important things.

Next he’s slicing through the straps of my bra—which yes, is very worn and has definitely seen better days. But still, it was one of my last barriers to him and now it’s gone.

I’m still face down on the bed as the contraption holding my mid-sized breasts comes free.

And then—shit, shit, shit—he cuts off my underwear.

I lie here not sure if I’m glad I can’t see what he’s doing now or if I’m more terrified because I want to watch his every move.

Before I can decide, though, one of his huge hands drops to my back.

My eyes squeeze shut.

I expect him to be rough. To grab me like he did my ankle earlier.

To take what I’m here for him to take.

I don’t expect the tentative touch.

I don’t expect the soft exhale as his other hand comes to my skin and he caresses down my back from my shoulder blades to the top swell of my ass. He stops just short of touching it, though, and massages back up again.

I feel the bed dip as he gets on, springs squeaking. I imagine his huge body taking up the whole bed, larger than life. Just thinking of that, his body crouched above me, is enough to have me tensing and ready to scramble off the bed and running for the door.

His hands pause on my back. He felt the sudden tension in my body.

Dammit.

This was the deal, Mel. There was never going to be any getting around this part, you know that.

But God, I only made the deal a few days ago and between then and now I’ve done everything possible to avoid thinking about this moment.

Still, it’s here now. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter and try to force myself to relax. Everything I read online over the years said it would go easier if I relaxed.

Yeah right.

You try relaxing with two hundred and thirty pounds of muscled beast over you while you’re buck naked.

His hands rub down my back again and this time when he gets to my ass, he doesn’t pause. Before I can even take a full breath, both his hands are full of my ass cheeks. He squeezes them in his massive hands, first one handful, then the other. I might not be anything to write home about in the bosom department, but I’m not lacking when it comes to junk in my trunk.

Just my luck, because apparently he’s an ass man.

He leans down and his cheek traces the same path his hands just took, down my spine until his stubble brushes my ass.

He’s been unexpectedly gentle the past few minutes.

So I don’t expect the bite.

It’s not hard, just a nip of his teeth on the round of my ass—but it’s enough to have me yelping and looking over my shoulder at the top of his dark head.

Like he can feel me looking, he growls and glances up at me.

The left side of his face catches me off guard just like it has each time I’ve looked him full on. And then he’s moving—far quicker than it seems like a man his size should be able to.

He whips open his night stand. My breath catches until I see he’s only holding an eye mask.

“Oh really, that’s not necessary. I’m sorry. I won’t look if you don’t want me to. You just took me by surprise there with the—” My voice breaks off because what am I going to say—with the ass-biting? With your scary monster face?

He doesn’t wait for me to finish anyway. He’s already slipped the eye mask around my head and is adjusting the strap.

Alrighty then. Guess he’s not big on talking things out.

Then I’m being flipped again, now to my back.

Everything’s happening so suddenly, I’m not prepared when his weight comes down on me and his mouth suctions on my right breast.

I—

Wait, he’s just going to—

To jump in like this— I mean, what—

I blink underneath the blindfold, my eyelashes fluttering madly against the silk fabric of the mask.

I don’t—

I mean, I just—

That feels—

A high-pitched breathy little gasp escapes my throat.

And then I’m mortified. What the hell was that?

He’s going to think that I—

He abandons the first breast and moves to the second. What he’s doing with his mouth— I try to get a full breath, but my lungs aren’t working right. His hand lifts and starts to massage the breast he was just suckling while he keeps at the other. He plucks and tugs at the nipple and holy crap, it’s like it’s connected to a live wire straight to my—

My whole body jolts and without really thinking about it, both my hands fly to his head. I don’t know if I’m trying to encourage him or yank him away.

What the hell am I thinking—yank him away, definitely yank him away.

But I barely register the feel of his thick, wavy hair before he grabs both of my wrists in one of his hands and pins them above my head.

I struggle in his hold. The sensations he’s pulling out of me are so foreign.

It’s all so much, so fast. My whole body just feels restless. I need to be moving. To be doing something.

Or maybe not. God, what am I even thinking?

I should just be lying here, taking whatever this bastard has to do to me. Right? That was always my plan for my first time, even before this insane scenario.

Close my eyes, pretend really hard I was somewhere else, stare at some spot on the wall and let him just rut and get it done with. That’s how a some friends in high school and college had described it—at least that’s how you got through the pain of the first time. A couple of girlfriends loved sex. But even they admitted their first times were awful. Definitely something to just be survived.

But now here is this man—no mere guy—making me feel such crazy, intense, oh my God things.

This is all wrong. Not at all how it’s supposed to go. Most especially because I’m being forced to be here.

This is not some romantic fling with a man I’ve finally decided is the one that I trust to try this with. This is some monstrous stranger, taking something he has no right to, except for the fact he basically bought it by helping my Dad and—

The hand not holding my wrists traces down between my breasts and grips my hip. And dammit, I can’t even be bothered to disguise the fact that I’m all out panting now.

My legs twist underneath him. When did he sling one of those jean-clad legs over mine? His leg is huge and heavy and it acts as a clamp. To try to keep me from getting away? Or to keep me from grinding against him like a tramp in heat?

Oh God, the thought washes me in shame and I try to still all my restless shuffling as his fingers grip and knead the flesh at my hip. What am I doing? Why is my body reacting this way?

My breath hitches as his hand reaches around to my ass and he pulls me up and into him. He’s hard. I can feel him through his jeans.

The thought should terrify me.

And I am.

Terrified, that is.

But I’m also damp between my legs.

Oh who the hell am I kidding?

I’m drenched.

I’m so goddamned wet my juices are probably going to make a wet spot on the front of his jeans.

My face heats in utter humiliation.

But then his hand that was just gripping my ass caresses back around to the front of my body, dipping down between us.

My first thought is that I want to howl in embarrassment because he’ll feel exactly how wet he’s made me.

And then I want to just howl because holy hell, his fingers immediately seek out my engorged little bud and he starts to press and circle with perfect pressure and—

It feels both so wrong and so right. My stomach clenches as he continues to rub and rub.

All I can do is feel. Sensations cascading over one another: The rasp of his slight beard against my breast. His tongue and teeth torturing my nipple so exquisitely.

And those talented fingers. Taking me higher and higher.

Without meaning to, my pelvis arches up into his hand. The rising ache of needing release—it’s so much higher than those rare occasions when I’ve nervously touched myself in the dark before.

I’ve never felt anything like this. His large, blunt fingers are nothing like my thin ones. I always tease myself with the gentle press of my middle finger but he uses his thumb, rolling and pinching, alternately gentle and rough. I would have thought I’d hate this… this lack of control. This giant stranger taking what he wants like this. It’s so wrong. But that very thought seems to amp my pleasure even higher.

“Need to taste,” he mutters and then he shifts himself off of me. The next second his fingers and hands and mouth are gone.

I stop the whine of protest right before it crosses my lips. Still, I can’t help the brief moment when my whole body arches in the direction he seemed to go.

And then I’m flooded by both shame and relief. Maybe he’ll stop now. Maybe that’s all I’ll have to endure for tonight.

I flop back against the bed, squeezing my eyes shut underneath the mask. But there’s no time to try to get my head on straight before I realize that the noise I’m hearing is that goddammed nightstand drawer being opened and shut again.

Oh no. What now?

He takes my wrists and then I feel something looped around them. Rope? A belt? Holy shit, he’s tying me down.

Oh God, no. No no no no no.

He’s.

Tying.

Me.

Down.

Somehow it’s finally hitting me in a way it hasn’t before. I’m out here all alone with an obviously crazy person. A very large, very muscled crazy person who wants to tie me down and do… God knows what to me.

“You know, we really haven’t gotten to know each other yet. Don’t you think that might be nice? They always say communication is key.” I laugh shrilly. “Take you for instance. Xavier’s such an interesting name. Did your mother or father think it up? Is it a family name? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

Especially any sisters, I think but don’t say. Some nice little sister I might remind him of? Then I remember I’m naked and where his mouth and hands just were… okay, so scratch the sister image. But still, okay, how else can I humanize myself?

“I was an only child but that’s just because my mom got her tubes tied after me. She didn’t really like kids. She was one of seven children and it kind of burnt her out on the whole thing. But I always wanted a little sister or brother.”

The constraint—I’m almost sure it’s a belt for how sharp the edges feel cutting into the skin of my wrists—jerks tight as he pulls it taut and then ostensibly ties off the other end, probably to the thick wooden rungs lining the headboard. Terror makes me light-headed. I give an experimental yank but nothing gives even the littlest bit. I remember how sturdy the wooden bed frame looked and my breathing gets shallow.

Where was I? Oh right. Trying to humanize myself so I don’t die in some virgin sacrifice my third day here. I know he theoretically brought me here to pop out a kid for him, but what if that was just so I’d get in the damn van and really he’s a psycho killer and—

Rough hands shove my thighs open.

Oh God, this is it.

Brace for impact.

Here it comes.

Devirginization in three, two—

I about jump out of my skin at the feel of his warm breath and the touch of his silky-soft tongue tracing up my inner left thigh.

Receiving pleasure when I expected pain is a shock to my system. I don’t know what to— I can’t even—

“Um, yeah, so I— I—” The last word breaks off in a gasp as he grazes his stubbled cheek along the inside of one thigh, pausing at the apex.

Is he—oh God, is he smelling me? And then his lips join the scrape of his jaw, a soft torture of lips and tongue that creates such an agonizing contrast I’m not sure if I’m in heaven or hell.

When he tongues up the center of my slit, I shudder and gasp with pleasure so sharp, I feel like I might pass out.

Just moments ago I was clear-headed and sure I was about to be murdered and now—oh God, with the simplest of touches, he has me limp as a mewling kitten underneath his searching tongue.

Again I’m horrified by my body’s lusty reaction to him. How can I be turned on right now? How can this be happening to—?

Oh, oh, oh God— My whole body spasms as his tongue reaches the promised land and he sucks on my clit. Yes, right there—

Then he pulls back so that just the very tip of his tongue teases my clit, up and down, then side to side.

Holy— Oh shit, oh my God— I’ve never— I didn’t even know it could feel like—

He pushes my legs open even further and it’s only with the most feeble resistance that I try to keep them clenched. I shouldn’t. This is so, so wrong. But when he elbows my knees further apart again, they fall slack. He takes advantage and presses my legs open wide with his arms, moving between my legs as he continues eating at me like a man starved.

A groan of pleasure wrenches from my chest. I shake my head, biting my lip against the rising tide of desire and need. No, I don’t want this. Even as the other half of my brain screams—Just yes. More. Please more.

I yank at my arm restraints in futility and frustration and need. God, I’ve never felt so needy for it in my whole life.

He sucks my whole clit into his mouth again and a high-pitched whine escapes my throat. But then after sucking and eating at me like I’m everything he needs to survive in the world, he pulls back with lazy kisses.

No, wait, I—

Rational thought dissolves. I’m so close, riding that blissful edge. So much higher and brighter than ever before. Oh God, I need it. It’s right there.

 I try to lift my hips up to his mouth because God, he can’t give me that and then just take it away again. My nipples are hard as rocks but I can’t move because he’s holding my hips to keep me in place.

Then his mouth dips to tongue inside my pussy. A long, deep thrust of his tongue that makes my limbs quake. My eyes pop open again and I cry out in shock and pleasure at the intrusion.

His thumb takes up where his mouth left off at my clit. Oh God, if I thought he was eating at me hungrily before, it’s nothing to how crazy he goes when he gets at my little virgin pussy.

He thrusts his tongue in and sucks and kisses at the swollen, sensitive lips of my sex. And then a finger from his other hand joins his tongue, slipping inside my sopping hole.

I cry out, not in pain but because yes, oh God, yes. I didn’t even realize how empty I was there until I’ve finally got something solid to clench at.

And clench I do. My whole body contracts around the digit he presses further and further inside me.

He hisses, pulling away from me just long enough to mutter, “Fuck,” before sucking me even more earnestly. His mouth goes back to my clit as his finger continues to explore inside me.

First to a knuckle, then deeper until I feel the base of his hand at my pelvis.

I let out a breath as he moves his finger inside me, first pressing against one wall and then another. Exploring. Or stretching? I don’t know. It feels strange and wonderful and—

A second finger teases at my entrance and I bite my bottom lip to keep from crying out. I can’t stop my quick, huffing breaths though.

Is this when it will start to hurt? Will he just jam it in?

But no, he works the second finger in as slowly as he did the first, probing and stretching as he goes.

And then he does this thing with his teeth, nibbling at my clit while he presses upwards with his fingers and holy—

A high-pitched wail escapes my throat.

It’s so good.

So high.

Fuck. Oh God, yes, more.

More. Oh—

My back arches off the bed as I come.

I’m blindfolded but the light is so bright behind my eyelids as I hit the peak. He keeps suckling me through it.

I’m still panting, barely coming down when I feel him shift. He’s moving.

That was so good, so freaking insane—

But then, all of the sudden—

Cock!

He’s sticking his cock in me!

Holy shit!

My brain blinks on again. There’s no warning, no nothing—he tricked me by giving me the best orgasm of my life and now his huge body is covering mine and he— he’s—

I can’t see. I have no idea what’s happening. Oh God. I yank against my wrist constraints and try to pull my legs together but the head of him has already pushed through the lips of my sex.

So much bigger than his fingers.

“Christ,” he mutters, his voice low.

I should say something. Like, how about we do this tomorrow? Or never?

Oh God, it’s going to hurt. I’m going to bleed. He’s a freaking giant. He’s going to tear me in two. Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God—

He tries to push in more and doesn’t budge. He’s at the barrier and I clench even tighter as my terror amps to an all new high.

“Relax,” he says. It sounds like an order.

I wind even tighter.

“Christ, even your teeth are clenched.”

At his words, I realize he’s right. My jaw aches with how tight my teeth are gritted.

Awesome, so he’ll realize what a bad idea this is, pull back, and we can forget about this whole thing. Maybe he’ll come to see that I’m the wrong girl for this whole ridiculous plan and go find someone else much more accommodating and—

His lips drop back to my breast.

I’m so surprised at the move and the spark of reignited pleasure that for a second, my body relaxes.

He takes advantage and thrusts in.

The pain makes me yelp and my legs come up reflexively. Where I encounter his body. Still, my legs strain against him, clutching him to me since I have nothing to grab except the leather strap of the belt holding my arms over my head. And I need everything possible to ground me in this moment.

I can’t help but be terrified of the expected pain.

But… it was little more than a sharp pinch, not the sustained pain girls have so often talked about. And it’s already fading. The fact that Xavier hasn’t let up his attentions to my breasts is certainly helping distract me, too.

And then there’s him between my legs.

Inside me.

Holy shit, he’s inside me. Having sex with me. Even though at the moment he’s just still, like he’s allowing me to become accustomed to him.

I hold my breath. He’s over me. He’s everywhere. I can’t see him because of the mask but that almost makes it worse or, I don’t know, at least more intense. With every breath, I inhale his foreign, male scent. His chest hair brushes against my breasts, our bellies are mashed together, and then there’s his, his— I swallow. He’s lodged so deeply inside, like he’s piercing straight through my body.

It’s too much to take in at once.

And then he starts to move. Not thrusting himself in and out exactly, just swiveling so that he’s rubbing against that part of me that’s so sensitive from his earlier attentions.

My legs clench reflexively around his hips as all the sensations from earlier roar back to life.

What. The. Fuck.

Not again. Surely not again, not while he’s—

His large hand clutches my ass suddenly, kneading the flesh before tracing down and hiking my leg even higher around his hip.

And my fucking traitorous body moves with him, my foot notching behind his back and unwittingly positioning myself so that his cock settles even deeper when he pushes back in.

It’s just, the more he swivels, the more that liquid sensation in my stomach starts to go molten again. He gently rocks more and more until his cock slips in and out of me in small micro-thrusts.

At first there’s discomfort. But even that is countered by the rising tide of pleasure he’s managing to wring from my body again.

Eventually he starts pushing for more, thrusting his cock deeper inside me. And to my everlasting shame and confusion, my legs have come up and wrapped around his hips.

His huge chest brushes against my chest and his scent is everywhere. Leather and soap and man. His warm body over mine. Skin to skin. And his hard cock pressing inside me where no one has ever been before.

“So good,” he mumbles, “So tight. So good.”

He slips one arm underneath my back and grips my shoulder from behind, bracing himself on his elbow. His other hand grabs my ass so he can drag me on and off of his cock as his thrusts become more frantic. The position has us so close our chests are cemented together. He buries his face in the hollow of my neck as he pumps more and more furiously.

The pain is gone and all that’s left is the rising tide of pleasure and this man fucking me like his life depends on it.

And his cock.

He’s hitting so deep, in places I never imagined—

And the way it feels. It’s— I can’t— It—

All the while he grinds his pelvis up and against my clitoris.

Then his cock hits that spot deep inside and he’s clutching me so tight, closer and with more desperation than anyone’s held me in my whole life.

I can’t help but buck against him with every thrust as our bodies play out the most primitive act between man and woman.

He starts to suck and bite at my neck like he can’t help but to devour whatever part of me he has access to and God, oh God, it’s coming again, higher and deeper than before, harder and more soul-shaking than anything I’ve ever felt in my life—

If I thought I screamed earlier, it’s nothing to the screech that pours from the top of my lungs now. My legs spasm as they clench around his body. Oh— oh, oh ohhhhhhhhhhhh—

He pumps into me, more ferocious than ever, once, twice, and then a third time he thrusts deeper than I would have thought possible. He stills and clutches me to him.

For a second the world stops spinning and time stops ticking and everything is completely still except the pleasure exploding like a thousand fireworks lighting up our bodies.

The pulses of the orgasm just keep going and going and going.

He thrusts in and out lazily several more times and then pauses another long moment, head still buried in my neck. As rational thought returns, I wonder if he can even breathe there.

And then all the other thoughts come back.

Holy shit.

This stranger who’s barely said three words to me just took my virginity.

And I… liked it. I participated, even. Shame and confusion choke me as I squeeze my eyes shut. What happens now?

Is this the part where he pulls out a cigarette and casually smokes? Isn’t that what they do in movies? At least in old movies. Now movies are just excited about the sex part—they all fade to black somewhere in the middle of it. Then it skips to the next morning or something. You rarely if ever get to see what happens right after.

Like, when the guy is still half-hard inside you and you’re blindfolded and tied up and have no idea what the hell you’re doing.

But then he quickly pulls out and withdraws completely from my body. It’s so startling after having him so close, after having him inside and surrounding me on the outside, that I’m immediately cold. Chill bumps rise all over my body.

I want to ask, what now? I want to ask, foolishly, was I any good? I want to start chattering a million miles an hour to fill the horrible empty silence that’s taken over the room in place of our moans and pleasured gasps from minutes ago.

I draw my legs together, feeling horribly exposed laid out like I am, my arms still tied over my head, body on display. Is he looking at me or like, busy checking his phone to see if he got any pressing emails while he was screwing me? What does he even do for a job that he’s able to afford this fancy house and all the land that must go with it? And what kind of connections does he—

With that, he releases my hands. By the time I’ve scrambled to a sitting position and pulled off my blindfold, he’s gone.