Blackmailing the Virgin

Not wanting to stop kissing her, I reach between us and push her panties to the side. Just enough to expose the part I need to sink into and give us what we need. I can feel it building in our bodies, this strong urge to connect. It’s like I have to get my cock in her before something happens and this fantasy all goes up in smoke.

Pressing my dripping cock to her wet opening, I slide against her in a teasing motion, slipping away from where I want to go. Moving her panties a little more, I push in, and this time thrust fully into her heated pussy. The sticky sweet cream coating her helps me glide my cock all the way to the root.

I start thrusting, feeling her pussy squeezing the life out of me. But she’s so fucking wet and ready that my dick is slicker than it’s ever been. Her mouth opens for me, and I sweep my tongue in again, swallowing her moans and tasting her desire. She’s clinging to me as I ride her hard, fucking in and out of her tight body. Her thick curves under me welcome my thrusts, and her big soft breasts rub against my chest.

This is the single greatest feeling I’ve ever had in my life. It’s as if our connection is one long orgasm—no build-up, no tease, just one intense climax. She’s so perfect under me. It’s exactly how I pictured it, only better. She’s more beautiful than I imagined and so much fucking sweeter.

It’s then I feel the orgasm building in my balls, and I want it to stop. I’m not ready to cum yet. I grit my teeth as I feel the ripples in her pussy that tell me she’s on her way to climax. She’s going to cum, and it’s going to shatter me, because I’ll have no choice but to follow her into paradise.

She breaks the kiss, throwing her head back, and I have a split second of clarity as I throw my hand over her mouth to muffle her cries of pleasure. She cums loud and hard all over my cock, and I grit my teeth in perfect agony as I cum with her.

I hold myself inside her, spilling my hot seed into her body. There’s no other place for my cum but her pussy, and I never once have the thought of pulling out.

“So beautiful, sweetheart. So fucking beautiful,” I whisper, resting my forehead on her chest. “I like that you don’t play for everyone. That your music is just for who you choose.”

I feel my hand fall away, and I start to drift into some kind of pleasure-filled coma. All the desire from the past weeks have finally caught up with me, and my body feels sated for the first time.

I try not to collapse on top of her, but I’m not sure if I make it off her as I’m out before my head hits the pillow.

Any dream I have of her will be nothing compared to what we just shared. No dream could touch the perfection of what I just experienced, and I hope when I wake up I remember to tell her exactly that.

Chapter Five Felicity

I wake to a sweet ache between my legs and the previous night playing through my mind. A delicious smile spreads across my face. If not for the ache, I’d think it was a dream. One I’d had many times before. Absently, I reach for Calder but come up with nothing. His body is no longer wrapped around mine.

Slowly opening my eyes, the morning light shining in through the floor-to-ceiling window of my bedroom, I see him sitting on the edge of the bed. His elbows on his knees, his head down, one hand in his hair like he’s almost pulling it. His breathing is deep, each breath making the big muscles of his back flex, showing the lines of his defined body.

Reaching out, I run my fingers down his back, wanting to encourage him back to bed with me. His whole body freezes. No more deep breaths. Just completely still. I can feel the frustration rolling off of him in waves, and it makes me pull my hand back.

“What did I do?” I hear him mumble. “I should have listened to your father.”

Out of all the things I thought he might say, that isn’t one of them. Not even close. In fact, talking about my father while we are both naked after making love seems completely wrong.

“Did he tell you to stay away from me?” I wouldn’t be surprised by that. It’s the only thing I can really imagine my father would say. He’s never scared men off before, but I don’t normally engage in their affections either, so there has never been a need.

“No. Said you’re just like your mother.” The way he says it, with such distaste, makes me push myself farther away from him, almost falling off the other side of the bed. Grabbing the sheet, I wrap it around me to cover up my body. He makes no move to look at me as he hangs his head and looks down at the floor.

My father has said many times that I’m like my mother, that I seem to just draw attention to myself. But she sought hers, and I don’t. He’s often said that I just light up a room. I’d always believed it was just a father doting on his daughter. Of course he thought I lit up the room. But I don’t think that’s what Calder means. Not with his tone of voice, the bitter anger that seems to lace them. No, he’s talking about the other whispers I’ve heard about my mother. For some reason, I want to hear him say it. Maybe because no one has ever said it to me before. It’s always been danced around or avoided.

“And what does that mean?” I’m surprised by the firmness of my own words. I’m shocked that I don’t stumble over them. I meet him head on.

This time, he does turn to look at me. His bright eyes bore into mine. The look is cold, all that sweetness from last night long gone. So cold I almost wonder if I made it up to begin with. That it never could have been in those eyes.

“I think you know what I mean, Felicity. It’s no big secret about your mother. Hopping from one bed to another. Do you so easily fall into bed with men? Do you do this for all of your father’s clients? That why he seems to be so popular?”