Second date. It’s odd, but I feel like I already know Declan so much better than I would on a typical second date. After all, we spent the entire week messaging each other.

Now the weekend has finally come, and Declan invited me to his condo for dinner. I text Violet the address just to get her off my back since she’s been badgering me nonstop about safety procedures and sending me articles about girls who have been kidnapped by cyber-stalkers. I roll my eyes at her messages, but tell her the address nonetheless, because I know it’ll make her relax a little.

She’ll forgive me eventually, I tell myself as I stand in Declan’s lobby, straightening my dress. The doorman smiles and waves me through, and a short elevator ride later, I’m standing in an elegant foyer. It’s the penthouse.

I chose my sexiest dress this time, the loose silk fabric clinging just enough at my hips to show off my waist, the hemline skimming my thighs and making my legs look longer than they are.

For makeup, I stuck to my usual go-to, just a touch of lipstick and eye shadow, since I’m not great at doing more than that. Apparently, it’s enough, since the moment Declan opens the door, his eyes go dark with desire. The smile on his face is positively irresistible, on top of that.

“Come on in,” he says, stepping aside so I can pass him. The place smells amazing, like garlic roasting in olive oil.

It looks amazing too, and my eyes widen as I take in the foyer and the condo beyond. There’s a massive staircase, old-school and Victorian, curving up away from the front door toward a balcony. I can just make out a few doorways along it, probably to bedrooms upstairs.

Down here, there’s a marble floor in ornate colors, gold and silver intermingled with black marble. The whole place looks like a cross between a Victorian-era mansion and a more modern stylish condo, with touches like the Chihuly-style glass chandelier curving overhead updating the look for a modern touch.

“Yes,” Declan says, catching the direction in which I’m staring. “That’s a Chihuly.”

My mouth drops open now. I’ve always been a fan of the famous glassblower’s work, but I’ve never even seen one of his pieces in real life, let alone met someone who owned one.

The place only gets more insane, as I trail him deeper into the house, past paintings in every style: from Romance-era to crazy modern abstract portraits. By the time we reach the kitchen, which itself is decked out like a professional chef’s, complete with enormous granite counters, all new stainless steel equipment, and another painting, this one, photorealistic still life. At first, I to the thought it was a photo until I leaned in close and realized it’s drawn in ballpoint pen.

“What do you do for a living?” I ask, marveling, even as Declan steps around me to reach for the stove and stir something cooking there.

“Oh, a little of this, little of that.”

I must have cast him a suspicious look because he laughs at the expression on my face.

“Nothing sinister. I work in the art world.” His smile widens. “I own a few art galleries, both here and in a few other cities around the country. But I also run a company dedicated to restoring antique art pieces for museum collections. That’s my real passion, though the galleries tend to pay a bit better,” he adds, with an almost lamenting sigh.

“You really do love art,” I comment, stepping closer to him.

He glances at me, gaze sharpening. “Yes, well. I love one-of-a-kind things… Especially the unique, untouched ones.”

I swallow hard, my mouth going dry. “Is that why you like virgins?” I ask, feeling brave and stepping closer to him.

He meets me halfway, the stovetop all but forgotten as we gaze into one another’s eyes. “It might have something to do with it.” His gaze trails down my body, taking in every inch of me. Normally I’d feel subconscious or shy about a guy checking me out so blatantly, but with him, it feels sexy. I can feel myself getting turned on, my legs tightening as a now-familiar wave of moisture builds between them.

“So I seem like a work of art to you?” I ask, joking, flirtatious as I take one more step closer. We’re close enough to touch now, and I am keenly aware of how long it’s been since he last touched me. How long I’ve had to wait to feel his arms around me again.

“Better,” he breathes, leaning close, his mouth a mere breath from mine. “You’re more unique than any painting. You’re living art.” His mouth sinks into mine, and I groan faintly into the kiss, my knees giving way as his arms wrap around my waist, pinning my body against his.

We stumble backward, or rather, I stumble, him leading the way. He takes us past the stove, and switches off the burner as we pass, before he scoops me fully into his arms, our mouths still locked, and carries me out of the kitchen into a side room.

He tosses me onto a chaise lounge, then kneels over me, both of us grinning.

“I guess dinner isn’t ready yet, hmm?” I ask, teasing.

“I’d rather eat dessert first, wouldn’t you?” he counters, one eyebrow lifted. Then he’s kissing me again, his lips tracing my jawline, down the side of my neck. He nibbles at the sensitive spot where my neck meets my collarbone, and I moan softly, sinking back into the chaise.

“You,” he breathes into my collarbone. “Are.” He lifts my dress slowly, and I sit forward to let him pull it off. “Perfection,” he finishes as he drops the dress onto the floor beside us, then leans down to unclasp my bra next. When he’s tossed that aside, he trails his hands up my torso, his fingertips grazing the edges of my breasts. He traces every inch of me except my breasts, first, his hands exploring my belly, my sides, my neck, all along my chest, until finally, his fingertips circle my breasts.

“I can’t get enough of you, Joyce,” he murmurs. He leans in, hands tightening on my breasts, massaging. I can feel my nipples beginning to harden, even faster when his warm fingers ghost them. He pinches slightly, and I gasp at the shock of sensation, halfway between pain and pleasure. It’s intense, more than I thought it could be, especially when he keeps going.

Then his mouth is on me, his tongue swirling around my nipple, sucking me into his mouth. He moans softly, his lips vibrating against my skin, and I moan with him, wrapping an arm around his neck, burying my other hand in his hair as my head falls back with pleasure. He toys with me, nipping and sucking at my breasts, his teeth tightening just enough to elicit a soft yelp of shock from me before he laps at my nipple again. Pleasure and pain, pain and pleasure, in an alternating tempo that makes my pussy clench and the moisture between my legs grow.

I want him so fucking badly.

I reach down to grab his shirt and pull it over his head, tangling his arms for a second, confused. Then he frees himself, grinning at me wolfishly. He leans over me, catches my mouth in a slow kiss again, his naked chest pressed to mine. “Someone’s anxious,” he murmurs.

I run my hands down his back, nails digging in, and savor the way he arches against me, deepening the kiss.

When he breaks away, I’m breathing hard, barely able to contain myself. Nobody has ever made me feel this way, desperate and frenzied from need.

“We’re trying something new today,” he tells me, that dark, hungry glint still in his eyes. It makes me shiver with anticipation, the way his gaze devours me.

He spins around above me, kneeling over me on all fours, and I don’t realize what he’s doing until he begins to slide my panties down. When he does, I reach up and fumble with the clasp of his pants.

He grins down at me. “I’m not helping you this time. You need to learn to do this yourself, little virgin.”

He definitely doesn’t help, distracting me with long slow kisses up my inner thigh, alternating between kisses and licks, with the occasional nip to keep me on my toes. When his tongue glides along the edges of my pussy, not quite touching my slit, I have to stop, my fingers tangled in the clasp of his pants, heart pounding as I suck in a deep breath.

Finally, I manage to focus again and undo his pants and push them down his thighs. He kicks them off as I grab his boxers and yank them down after. His cock springs free, every inch as glorious as I remember. I lean up to kiss the tip, unable to resist, and he chuckles as he leans in to kiss my pussy in response, slowly, his lips working around my clit. I arch my hips up against his mouth, even as he lowers his above mine, giving me better access.

“Remember to relax, Joyce. You did great last time. This is the same.” He chuckles and licks my pussy lips again. “Well. Mostly.”

I reach up to wrap my hands around his cock, tracing his length, savoring that velvety sensation, enjoying how hard I make him. But when he starts to lick me in earnest, pressing his tongue between the folds of my pussy, moving along my slit, tasting every inch of me, I can’t resist doing the same. I lick along the sides of his shaft in long slow motions.

He tastes amazing, salty and masculine and sexy as hell. Apparently, he shares the sentiment, because he leans up for a moment, breaking contact with my pussy to turn and catch my eye, his gaze so hot it sets me on fire.

“I love tasting you,” he says, his voice low in his throat, before he dips his head again to lick at my clit. I gasp and pull him closer to me. His hands dig into my ass, mine grip his hips, and I part my lips to draw his cock fully into my mouth.

“Yes, just like that,” he hisses before he his tongue delves into my pussy once more.

We find a rhythm, rocking together, his cock sliding into my mouth even as his tongue presses into my pussy, lapping at my walls.

Then his tongue grazes my clit again, and it sends a shock through me. For a moment I freeze, distracted by the rush of pleasure, until his hips rock toward my face again, urging me on and sliding along my tongue. I relax my jaw, digging my fingers into his hips as I pull him toward me, deeper. He groans faintly, the sound making his mouth vibrate against my pussy, and I moan in response, his cock touching the back of my throat.

He speeds up, thrusting against me, and I tighten my lips around him, pressing my tongue up against his cock with every thrust, as he licks my clit harder, faster.

It doesn’t take long for him to get me to the edge. He knows exactly how to do it, how to tease me right up to the brink of orgasm. But just when I’m about to come, he stops, pausing to grin at me. “Can’t have you finishing too soon,” he says, smirking. “Not when you still have work to do. Suck harder, Joyce.”

I catch his eye but keep sucking his cock, maintaining eye contact while he thrusts in and out of my mouth.

“Touch me, too,” he says.

I lift my hands to wrap them around the base of his cock, stroking him whenever he pulls out of my mouth.

His eyes flutter closed for a second, another moan escaping him before he leans in to suck my clit between his lips, his tongue toying with me. He slides a finger into my pussy, and I gasp, eyes widening. But he’s not done.

A second finger slides into me, then a third, stretching me wider than I’ve ever been stretched before. I moan, half in pleasure and half in pain. It doesn’t take long for me to adjust, though, and soon the pain floods away as I welcome the width of his strong fingers. He curls them, trailing down my front wall, and I cry out, arching my hips up as he hits my G-spot.

“Come for me, Joyce,” he commands, lips leaving me just long enough to say that before he starts to lick me again, fingers thrusting in motion with his hips. I wrap one hand around his balls and move my head in time with the thrusts, pulling his cock in and out of my mouth.

In no time at all, I reach the brink again, and this time he lets me finish. I come with a loud cry, muffled by his cock as he buries it in my throat. He finishes a second later, growling as his cum coats my throat and fills my mouth. I keep sucking him until he slumps against me, our bodies both slick with sweat.

My whole body tingles from the orgasm, and when he spins around on top of me, lying along my side, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him into another deep, long kiss. This time, both our flavors mingle on our tongues, a taste that’s sex and sweat and all us.

But his hands are still moving, sliding down my sides to my waist, my hips. One finger slips around to tease my clit, my pussy still soaking wet, and even though I’m sensitive from the orgasm, I can feel myself starting to shake with desire again.

“I want you,” I groan, desperate.

He leans in to kiss me, long and hard, his hips arching to thrust against mine. I can feel him growing hard again, and I reach down to cup his cock in both hands, coaxing him along. It doesn’t take long at all for him to grow fully hard in my grip, and then he leans away, reaches over my head. For a terrible, heart-stopping second, I think he’s going to stop again. Tell me I need to go, just like he did last time in the restaurant.

Instead, he pulls a condom from the drawer beside the chaise and hands it to me. “Do you want to do this?”

I blink in surprise, but he’s patient, watching me, enjoying my confusion. “Yes.”

“Open the condom, Joyce,” he says.

I lift the wrapper to my mouth and bite down, tearing it open. I did this in sex ed class a couple times with a banana, but it’s been years, and this is a real cock, not a piece of fruit.

I glance up at him, unsure, as I lower the condom toward his head.

“Roll it down the sides,” he says, that private little grin still on his mouth as he watches me do this.

I obey, unrolling the condom over his length slowly, keeping my eyes locked with his.

“God, it’s so sexy how you’ve never done this before. You’re so innocent.”

When it’s fully on, he leans down again, pushing me back against the couch.

“Are you sure?” I ask him, gazing up into his eyes.

Declan laughs softly and leans in to kiss me. “That’s my line,” he says.

“Well, you like virgins. After this, I won’t be one anymore.” I wriggle a little against him, uncomfortable. “Will that change things?”

His eyes soften. He kisses my forehead, then my cheek, then along my jawline, little nibbles until he reaches my ear. Then he whispers, “I like you, Joyce,” and I shiver with pleasure, my chest tight with feeling.

“But what about the auction?” I murmur, turning to kiss his neck, as his stubble scratches my cheek. “It doesn’t finish until tomorrow. If we sleep together now, isn’t that wrong?”

He trails his lips lower, kissing down my neck to my collarbone, that stubble of his scratching against my sensitive skin as he trails his tongue along my clavicle, hot and slow. “Do you want to wait?” he asks, a chuckle in his tone.

A faint moan escapes my throat. “No,” I admit. “I really, really don’t.”

“Then don’t worry.” He leans up to look at me again, and for a moment, his eyes seem to go a little flat, almost cold. “It’ll be fine.”

Before I can ask what he means, he’s kissing me again, and I arch against him, savoring the heat of his skin against mine.

He’s right, I tell myself. It’ll be fine.

So when he kneels between my thighs, I lift my legs to wrap them around his waist. He trails his cock along my slit, coating his length in my juices, gazing down at me, his gaze dark and full of desire again.

“My sexy little virgin,” he murmurs. “I can’t wait to claim you.”

“Take me,” I gasp, tilting my hips toward his, trying to draw him closer. But he’s more patient than I am. He lingers at my entrance, smirking at me, enjoying the open desire on my face. “Declan,” I say, when he continues stroking the head of his cock slowly up and down my slit. “Fuck me.”

He leans in and catches my hair in his fist. Pulls my head back to expose my neck, and kisses me hard, hungrily. “Was that a command, little virgin? I want to savor this moment.” He slides the very tip of his cock inside me, and I resist the urge to bear down and take him fully inside.

I swallow hard, nervous at the dangerous glint in his eye. “A request?” I try.

His grin widens. “Good. I’m in charge now, Joyce. I control your pleasure…” He reaches between my legs, fingers spreading my pussy lips wide. His cock presses at my entrance, and he eases himself a little farther in, and then out again. The anticipation is excruciating. I gasp and shiver with want. “You belong to me,” he whispers, lips at my ear, tongue swirling around my earring. He nips my neck lightly, at the spot where my neck meets my ear, and I moan, unable to help myself. Slowly, he teases me, giving me just a taste of what’s to come. I look down and watch just the tip of his cock disappearing into me and coming back out. Again and again until I’m vibrating with need. “Your pain is mine; your pleasure is mine.” He leans back and looks into my eyes. “You are mine now. Once and for all.”

Finally, and without warning, he thrusts into me, completely, in a sharp motion that makes me cry out, my hips bucking as his cock fills my pussy, stretching me to my limits.

“You are mine,” he repeats, and I can’t tear my eyes from his, as the spike of pain at his initial thrust begins to shift into pleasure.

The way he stretches me, fills me… There’s nothing like it. I cannot get enough of this sensation.

He draws out slower this time, and I tighten my legs around his waist, hating the way he pulls out of me. I want him in me, filling me. I don’t want to stop feeling his cock strain against my inner walls, my pussy tightening around him.

When he thrusts into me again, my head falls back, another long moan passing my lips.

“You like that?” He’s smirking, studying me, loving my reactions.

“Fuck yes,” I manage before he starts to fuck me in earnest. He pins me to the chaise with strong hands around my hips. Speeds up his thrusts, his hips arching above me. Every thrust makes my pussy ache and spark with pleasure at the same time, as I strain around his thick cock. But with every thrust, there’s less pain and more pleasure, until I’m thrusting too, rocking my hips upward to meet him at every stroke.

“Your pussy is so fucking tight,” he growls, eyes glazed over with desire. I love watching his face, seeing him gaze at me, devour me with his eyes and his body. “Joyce, you are perfect. Better than I imagined.”

I close my eyes, let myself get lost in the sensation of his cock driving into me, his hips crashing against mine, his balls slapping my ass, he fucks me so hard and fast.

Then, without warning, he arches his back and grabs my legs. Untangles them from his waist and throws my calves over his shoulders, so my body is angled up beneath him. My eyes widen, and I gasp as his cock drags along my front wall at this angle, scraping across my G-spot. He keeps fucking me, holding me in place, his expression turning animalistic, all lust.

The orgasm takes me by surprise. My back arches, my whole body shaking as I cry out, my head falling back against the chaise.

“Fuck, Joyce,” Declan groans, and I open my eyes to find him watching me, pure ecstasy in his eyes. He thrusts into me again once, twice, three times and then he tightens his grip on my thighs, his fingers digging in so hard they’ll leave bruises as he finishes, growling my name.

He drops my legs, and I pull him down onto me, his cock still in my pussy. I don’t want him to pull out, not yet. I want to savor this.

“Fuck. That was…” I shake my head, lost for words.

Declan leans back, smiling at me. When he kisses me again, it’s a different kiss this time. Tender, full of emotion. I sink into it, our mouths melding together, tongues entwined. When we break apart again, he rests his forehead against mine, eyes boring into mine. “You’re mine now, Joyce,” he breathes.

“I know,” I murmur in response. Because I am. He’s my first, and damn, what a first. I can’t imagine it ever feeling like this with anyone else.

I’ll never be the same after him… But that’s fine because I like who I’m becoming and who I am with him.

We kiss again, and the pleasure that hums through me turns into something sharper. Fear. Because I’ve realized I don’t want this to end. I’m falling for him, hard. I like him, and I don’t want this to be the end of our experience.

But as he scoops me up into his arms and carries me into his bedroom, past the forgotten dinner we never bothered to eat in the kitchen, I remember what he said on our first date. There’s no rule that says we can’t keep having fun as long as we’d like.

That’s fine by me. If I had my way, I’d want it to go on forever, I think as I drift off to sleep in Declan’s arms, wrapped in the elegant silk sheets of his king size bed.