Hannah
I promised myself that I wouldn’t feel this way again, but here I am getting myself deeper into a situation that I may not be able to get out of. All the work that I've done to turn my life around, to find hope and enough drive to move on, feels like it’s washed away.
I’m Hannah the whore all over again and I can’t bear it.
I turn and run from the bar, clutching the envelope tight in my sweaty fist. I throw on my sweats and shove my stupid heels into my bag, along with the white lingerie and the vibrator. I’m done in minutes and then I stride to the door, praying there will be someone out there waiting for me. Hudson, the cutest security guy, is leaning up against the wall outside the changing rooms.
“You ready to go?” he asks. He must be at least 6’ 3.
“Sure. Thanks,” I tell him, not making eye contact. I know that security knows most of what goes on in this club. The ones who watch the monitors share the gossip with the others. I wonder if he knows about tonight or if that bit of news hasn’t made it around the building yet.
I hurry across the lot, my legs moving twice as fast as Hudson’s long ones. It’s dark and the first bit of cold grazes my hot cheeks. “I’m good now,” I tell him as I unlock the car and slide inside. He waves as I lock from the inside.
I’m about to stick the key in the ignition when I think about the money. Is there another note inside? I want to drive away and get as far from this place as I can, but something tells me that I should open the envelope, just in case there's something inside that I need to know about.
I slide out the cash, not bothering to count it, looking for the note that I’m expecting to be buried beneath.
There’s nothing there.
Confused, I begin stuffing the wad of notes back into the envelope when there's a loud bang on my window.
I jump so hard that most of the money misses the envelope and scatters to the floor on the passenger side. I turn, straining to see who's out there, my finger going to the ignition in case I need to speed away. I'm afraid that it's going to be Gray Suit, but it’s Dominic.
He motions for me to put the window down.
“Hey,” he says, leaning down and gripping the frame of the window. “You’re leaving?”
“Yeah. I’m not feeling very well.” I lean forward to try and block the view of the money that’s lying discarded behind me.
Dominic narrows his eyes. “You didn’t say goodbye,” he says. “And you had someone walk you to your car. I could have done that for you.”
“I came to say bye,” I say, “But you weren’t around.”
“I must have been looking for you at the same time.”
That makes me feel sad. He was searching for me at the same time as I was…I don’t even want to think about it. I’m still swollen between my legs and it doesn’t feel good.
“You’re a good guy, Dominic,” I say through a throat that is tight with emotion.
“Not really,” he says.
“Yes, you are. You don’t even really know me…”
His knuckles whiten as he seems to grip the car tighter. “I’m going to follow you back, okay? My car is right over there.” He indicates an old truck that looks like it has seen better days.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know. But I want to.” Dominic doesn’t wait for me to answer. He turns and strides towards his vehicle and jumps in quickly. Before I have a chance to sort out the money, he’s turned on his lights and driven up behind me.
I start the car and pull out of the lot, keeping a check on where Big D is. It takes thirty minutes to drive back to campus. All the while, Dominic stays safely close behind me.
I park in a space at the back of my dorm and he does too, jumping out of his truck and taking a good look around. It’s like he’s scanning for danger, and I’m grateful for his concern. I want to look around too, but I can’t because I need to quickly stuff the loose cash and envelope into my purse. When I get out of the car, he comes to stand close.
“I’ll walk you to your room,” he says.
“Look…” I start, but he puts his hand up to shush me.
“It’s no trouble. If I don't, I’ll worry about you, okay. And then I won't sleep. And I’m a grumpy asshole when I don’t sleep. Do the world a favor, and let me make sure you’re home safely.”
He’s trying to make light of the situation, which is cute, but it only makes me feel sadder. I don’t deserve this lovely man after what I’ve done tonight. He should be walking in the other direction, but I guess he doesn’t know the full extent of what I am capable of.
I nod, because I don’t really have any choice, and lock up my car. We walk, side by side, in silence, to the front entrance. “Thanks,” I say. It’s awkward. Neither of us really knows how to act in this situation.
“I’ll walk you to your room.”
“The dorms are safe,” I say, but he shakes his head. Nothing is going to dissuade him, so I unlock the main door and head to my room. When we get there, I thank him again, and he waits while I open up. It’s dark inside. Heather’s out visiting friends.
We do that thing again, where he lurks in the doorway, hand on the door jamb, with so much silence between us that it’s deafening.
“Look,” we both blurt out at the same time, and then laugh nervously. I wait to see what he's going to say, because I have no idea how to deal with this.
“I wanted to say sorry for the other night.” He frowns a little, dark eyes searching my face for a reaction. What is he expecting? Disappointment? Relief? Do I feel a little bit of both? Yes. But mostly sad.
“Why are you sorry?”
“Because I took advantage of you when you were feeling weak, and that was low of me.”
“It didn’t feel like that,” I say. It’s the truth. As much as I know that we need to keep our distance from each other in the future, I don’t want him to feel guilty for being there for me, for caring. That’s the way I saw things.
“I…I should have just been a friend.”
“You were. You did more than anyone else would have.”
“I tried to get into your pants when you were scared and vulnerable,” he says, taking a step back and rubbing his hand over his face in a way that screams stress.
“You kissed me and I kissed you back,” I say, needing to correct him. “I was there the whole time, deciding what I wanted. You weren’t doing anything that I didn’t want you to do, and if I’d said no, I know you would have stopped.”
He nods, looking partly relieved at what I’ve said, but still really uncomfortable.
“Look, I know my own mind,” I say. “Even when I’m making a mistake, I’m doing it knowingly.”
“So you agree it was a mistake?”
“Not a mistake. That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Well, what are you saying?”
“I…I don’t know. That I wanted you to kiss me, even though I knew it was a bad idea.”
He stares at me, dark eyes like deep fathomless pools that tell me nothing about what he’s thinking or how he’s feeling. And I find that I want to know. I want to know what’s going on in that fascinating mind of his so badly.
“Why’s it a bad idea?” he asks softly. “Outside of the timing.” His lips form a smile so small, I could have missed it if I blinked.
“Because I’m your tutor,” I say.
“You’re not a teacher,” he counters, leaning in a little.
“Because I need to focus on my studies.”
“You’re acing your classes.” He moves closer again and my pulse seems to kick up a notch with every inch he gets closer.
“Because of my job. I need to keep that part of my life separate from here.”
“And you thought I’d find out and tell other people?” God, he sounds so hurt, that I might think so little of him. I don’t want to leave him feeling like that, even if it is partly the truth. It isn’t fair to burden him with the aftereffects of my trust issues.
“I thought that it wouldn’t be fair for me to keep it a secret, and that telling anyone is a risk to my reputation and my place here,” I say.
He nods like he gets it, but I’m not sure he does. “I want to tell you that you shouldn’t be working there because there are other jobs, other ways, but I know you know that.”
“Why do you care?” It’s an obvious question because we’re not friends. At least, not yet. I have a feeling that we could be if we spent more time together and let things develop. If things were different.
Dominic sighs, his dark eyes meeting mine. It’s as though he wishes he could just tell me things telepathically, rather than trying to find the right words and say them in the right way. I get it because somewhere between my brain and my mouth, words seem to jumble around, and things that sounded okay in my head, often sound terrible when I voice them.
His gaze is serious but soft. It melts my heart but scares me so much that the hand I'm clutching my purse with starts to tremble. He reaches out and cups my cheek gently. I’ve seen how strong his hands are, felt their grasp on my flesh, but here and now, he’s touching me like I’m a baby bird who’s fallen from the nest.
“Dominic.” I mean it to sound like a warning, but it sounds like a plea. I close my eyes, unable to look at him anymore because it’s too raw and too intense. I feel a touch against my lips and a gust of breath and then he’s kissing me, and I don’t want him to stop, but it hurts. It really hurts because it feels so good. So sweet and so tender. He’s kissing me like I’m something precious, not some trashy girl who lets people look at her body for a living. He’s putting his arms around me as though he really does care and I don’t have the strength to stop him. He runs his fingers through my hair and holds me tightly against him, my purse crushed between us. His lips are so soft, drawing mine between his and releasing, slowly and tenderly. I kiss him back because he’s a good man and I haven’t ever come across one of those who wasn’t part of my family.
He walks me backward closing the door behind himself. He reaches between us, taking my purse from my hands and dropping it onto the floor by my desk. I’m so lost in his kiss and the swell of emotions that I’m feeling, that there is no going back now. I’ve held myself separate for long enough to create a void inside me that doesn’t want to be empty anymore. My soul is lonely and, as much as I’ve tried to fight it, Big D is the one that I need.
I slide my hand up his chest, feeling the swell of muscle there and the beating of his racing heart. My fingers go to the buttons, working them until my skin is in contact with his skin, and everything seems better. He’s so warm, the smell of his cologne is an undertone to his own scent. I breathe him in, nuzzling his chest with my face, kissing his collar bones and passing my hands over his nipples. Dominic presses soft kisses to the top of my head as I take in the glorious sight that is his chest. A wall of muscle covered by golden skin and a dusting of fine hair that does funny things to my insides. Further down, his stomach is a landscape of hills and valleys; a perfect six pack offset by those side muscles that dip down into a sharp V.
I can’t stop touching him but he’s not satisfied with that. He wants under my clothes too. When he lifts my top, I allow the fabric to slip over my arms. Standing in my black lace uniform, I feel more vulnerable than I ever have in the Kitty Cat Club. When he looks at me, practically naked from the waist up, I see a sadness in his eyes. Using just the tip of his finger, he strokes along the edge of the lace.
“You have such beautiful skin,” he says. “Flawless.”
I want to show him the marks I have on my stomach and tell him that I’m flawed, that my sins have damaged me for life, but my throat is too tight. He bends to kiss the swell of my breast, pushing down the straps and tugging the lace down on both sides. When he takes my nipple in his mouth I want to cry out. I want to press his face against me so he knows I don’t want him to stop, but I can’t because that would be me admitting that I need this. It’s easier to let him lead me into the place that I know is dangerous for my heart.
It feels so good; hot and wet, slow licks and hard nips that connect directly between my legs. His hands stroke down my arms reverently until his fingers are intertwined with mine. I don’t know why that action makes tears spring to my eyes, but when he returns his mouth to mine, I know he will eventually feel my emotion on his skin.
When he does, Big D draws back and kisses my wet cheek, “It’s okay,” he says. “I’ve got you.” And for once, I actually believe it could be true. I think I could have stumbled across a man who could know my secrets and not run away, who could accept me despite my sins and wounds. He knows about my job and he’s still here, kissing me like I’m precious and touching me like I’m a fragile flower that will bruise if he grips too tight.
I feel delicate tonight, as though all the anxiety and worry has stripped off my armor and left me bare.
His mouth owns mine, tongue sliding in a rhythm that makes me dizzy. I’m not expecting it when he drops to his knees in front of me and hooks his fingers in the sides of my leggings, drawing them down slowly, giving me all the time in the world to say no.
I don’t. I can’t.
I want him so badly my knees shake and he wraps one arm around my middle, holding me firmly. I step out of my pants and then he’s kissing my thighs, licking and nibbling, and I want him to keep going. His hands grip my ass and squeeze before his mouth moves to press wet kisses over the lace of my panties. I can feel the heat from his tongue on my clit, even though it’s through a layer of sheer fabric. My hips buck involuntarily, as though I no longer have full control over my own body. Dominic Ramsey has found my strings and is tugging each and every one.
He inhales deeply as though he wants to breathe in my scent, and I thread my fingers through his thick dark hair, needing to touch him so that he knows I’m with him and want him to carry on.
I expect him to tug down my panties but he doesn’t. One minute he’s kneeling and I’m standing, the next he’s scooped me up and is carrying me to my bed like a maiden in the middle ages. The agility and strength that makes him a warrior on the field have me in awe. His arms bulge as he lays me gently down on the comforter, gazing at me spread before him.
“I just…do you want me to stop?” he asks. “If I’m going too fast…”
I put my hand on his wrist and pull him towards me. He might be big but he knows how to handle his body, resting on top of me gently, using his strength to support himself above me. His hand cups my cheek, his eyes scanning, zeroing on my lips again, bending to taste in short, soft movements that have me whimpering for him. Slowly, he lowers himself against me until our hips are pressed together and I can feel his excitement exactly where I want it.
God, he feels big and powerful, but gentle and tender too. A blend of physical and emotional opposites that shouldn’t really work together, but do. I stroke his shoulders, following the bulge of his bicep down, and then up, sliding further over his back until I find the hem of his shirt. Underneath, he is a furnace, smooth skin over bunched muscle. My fingers trace a path, higher, over his sides, feeling his body tense at the contact.
He sighs, eyes closed as he enjoys the sensations.
“Take it off,” I whisper. “Let me see you.”
His eyes are molten when they meet mine, but he doesn’t say no. It takes a couple of seconds for him to tug it off and then I’m greeted by a sight that sends my heart speeding and my mouth watering. I’ve seen him shirtless from afar but close is something else. I’ve never come across a man who looked so good I wanted to taste him. I turn my head to the side and press an open-mouthed kiss to his forearm, stroking the skin with my tongue. I buzz with desire for this man who seemed so big and brash from afar but close up is protective and sincere.
He pumps his hips, forcing my thighs further apart and nudging my clit with the root of his cock. I moan as his hand goes to my breast, lightly caressing my already puckered nipple.
He inhales against the skin of my breastbone, nuzzling his nose gently at the soft flesh on either side of his face. “You smell of summer,” he says, and I think it might be the nicest thing that anyone has ever said to me. I glance my hand over my nipple, showing him that I want him to touch me, squeeze me, pinch me; anything to move me closer to where I want to be.
His hand takes over, grasping my nipple firmly as he kisses a trail across my belly. He’s slow, savoring every kiss, every nuzzle that he makes winds my body tighter.
“I want to taste you,” he says, voice thick with desire. I let my knees fall open wider so that he knows it’s okay and that I want it too.
He doesn’t waste time taking my panties off, just uses one hand to tug the lace aside, and the other to grip my thigh. I’m expecting him to go slow, and he does at first, taking time to breathe deep where I’m wet and needy, and to nuzzle into the little patch of hair I leave because it makes me feel more womanly.
Those huge fingers of his touch me so gently, two easing my labia apart until I'm totally open to his view. “Fuck,” he grunts, before leaning in to press a soft kiss to my clit.
I know I must still be swollen between my legs. My clit feels so tender from my previous orgasm that I flinch when he makes contact with it. His tongue is soft, running languid circles around and around, never quite touching where I’m most sensitive.
I slide my fingers into his hair, gripping as he winds me tighter and tighter, making soft noises as the pleasure rises to a higher pitch. I think I could come from just this; gentle contact and the sense of surrender that I feel towards this big, strong, good man. There is relief inside me that bubbles fast and bright, with the edge of fear that never seems to leave me. My pussy contracts hard around nothing and he must feel it against his tongue because before I can beg for his fingers, they are there, pushing where I’m practically dripping with arousal. He slides in one thick finger, drawing it out slowly with a twist at the end that has my hips bucking.
“You like that?” he asks, pulling back to stare as he slides two deep inside me. Two fingers and I feel so full.
“Yes,” I gasp.
“You want more?”
I want to shout yes, but I’m a little scared. I already feel so stuffed, what will it feel like for another finger to slide on in too? Probably so good that I’ll come there and then, but maybe it’ll hurt. I don’t want it to hurt.
“Slowly,” I say in the end, and he looks up, catching my eyes, checking that I’m still there with him. Again, his eyes move back between my legs as he draws his fingers through my wetness and adds that big extra finger. He’s restrained, dipping inside just an inch, pulling back out so that he can spread my wetness to smooth the journey. When he pushes again, I move my own hand down to my clit, knowing that if I rub it softly, my pussy will relax to take more.
“If I’m going to fuck you, I’m going to need to open you up,” Dominic says softly. "You’re so tight."
I lie back, close my eyes and think of his big cock. I go back to all those nights when I couldn’t stop myself from fantasizing about him and the filthy things that I imagined he would do to me. I moan loudly as his third finger slides in too. It feels so good. Fullness with an edge of sting. I’m a little sore from the vibrator, which isn’t helping.
I don’t want to think about that now, though. This is about finding oblivion. It’s about reclaiming my body for my own, to use as I want. I look down at Dominic, his thick eyelashes fanned over his cheeks as he focuses between my legs and I start to roll my hips, chasing more pleasure, finger speeding on my clit.
“I’m gonna give you four,” he says.
“Do it,” I gasp, so close I can almost taste it. Even though I had an orgasm less than an hour ago, the one that's developing inside me feels like an avalanche waiting to fall.
The fourth finger feels impossible. Dominic has to twist his hand, just to find a better angle. I hold myself still, spreading my legs wider, tilting my hips and thinking about all the nights that I wanted this but told myself it could never happen. I concentrate so that I can memorize everything about this moment. The harsh inhale of Dominic’s breathing, the slight tremble as he pushes so much of his hand inside me, the yellow arc of light that casts his face in an ethereal glow that makes him appear half angel, half devil.
I cry out as he draws out his hand and pushes in with a twist, bending to lick my clit in a matching rhythm. I can’t take it when his other hand pushes my leg up high against my chest to give him wider access. I’m so close, teetering on the very edge of an orgasm so powerful it has my whole body taut.
“Don’t stop,” I pant, grinding my hips against his hand, fighting for my release. His lips close around my clit and when he sucks, I fall and fall and fall, losing all grasp on reality. I don’t recognize the sounds that come out of my mouth. I’ve never let go this way with anyone else and it feels scary, as though my soul is suddenly bare for Dominic to see and judge.
His hand eases from inside me and then he’s stroking my legs, kissing the tips of my fingers and finally my lips. For a moment I freeze, not really knowing how things should be afterward, but he leads me through the darkness with his soft mouth and gentle hands. His hips grind into mine, the heavy thickness of his cock almost shocking.
“Hannah,” he says gently between kisses. “You’re beautiful.” I blink slowly. My inner voice goes back to my darkest days. Whore. Worthless. Trash. I should never have taken those words to heart, but I was young and vulnerable and they cut me to the bone. “Tell me what you want.”
I want to tell him that I want to rewind time so that I could meet him as I was; full of joy and innocence, without the worries and burdens that I carry on my back like lead. I wish I was a less damaged person so I could be good for him. The cheery cheerleader who is bright and bubbly and full of hope. But I know he wouldn’t want to hear those things and I don’t have the voice to say them.
Instead, I say, “You,” reaching out to touch his face, stroking his cheek, his brow, the lids of his eyes when they drop closed at my words.
He pauses for only a few seconds, his shoulders rising and falling with his quickening breaths. When I reach down to unbuckle his belt, he seems to wake from his dream-state, helping me release his zipper and push down his pants. Dominic’s so eager that he doesn’t even get fully undressed, just puts his thumb into the top of his boxers and pushes down until his cock is free.
Fuck. My mind seems to grind to a halt as I take in the size of the thing. Now I know why it's the stuff of legends. In that moment I understand why all the girls talk about Big D with such utter fascination. The boy has been blessed in a way I wouldn’t have considered physically possible. He holds it like a baseball bat, looking down at it like he’s almost as surprised as I am at what he’s found between his legs. “You sure?” he asks. He sounds almost shy or apologetic. For a second I wonder if girls have turned him down, daunted at the prospect of what that thing might do to them.
I push myself up so I’m closer and touch his face again. “Yeah, baby,” I say. “One minute.” I swing my legs off the side of the bed and head to Heather’s nightstand. I know she keeps condoms in there. I take one from the box, relieved that her current boyfriend is also of the well-endowed variety. Dominic is still holding himself, waiting.
“Here,” I say, tearing the packet and handing it to him.
As he rolls it down, I slip off my panties and bra and get back on the bed, waiting for him to be ready. It’s mesmerizing to watch him concentrating, smoothing the tight latex down, inch by painstaking inch. When he’s done, he lies over me, aligning our hips, touching his nose to mine, kissing my lips gently. He nudges me with his knee to spread my legs wider as he reaches to take hold of his cock. When he strokes the blunt head of it through my wetness I shiver. This is really going to happen.
It’s been so long since I let anyone inside me that I have to close my eyes to lose myself in the darkness. I hold onto his arm, needing the contact with him to feel grounded. I hook my leg around his waist to let him know how much I want this because I do. So much that my heart feels like a ripe fruit, ready to split open at any moment.
He moves his hips, pushing me open, slow inch by slow inch, slipping in my arousal but hitting resistance because of the sheer size of his cock. It feels so good.
Explicit.
Raw.
I get why so many romance books feature heroes that are hung. There is nothing like the feeling of a big cock forcing its way inside you. It's primal. Nature at its most perfect.
The power within him practically vibrates against me, and as my body relaxes to accommodate him, I feel my heart give way a little too. Dominic’s eyes are locked on mine and the look of possession in them is just too much.
“You feel so good,” he says, as though he can tell my mind is wandering and he wants to remind me of this amazing thing that we are doing.
“You feel good, too.”
“Tell me what you want,” he orders again, eyes almost frantic as he finally bottoms out. I wish I could see the place where our bodies are locked. I wish I could watch him draw his cock out and then spear me again. I can guess how explicit it looks and the thought sends a pulse of heat between my legs.
“Just you, however you want to give it to me.”
A ghost of a smile passes his lips, then he rises up onto his knees and hooks my ankles over his shoulders. Now I get to see what I want, and when I look at where we are joined, it’s just as erotic as I thought it would be. My labia are spread wide, his cock gleaming with my arousal. He rolls his hips, abs flexing, hands gripping me tightly and I just can’t take my eyes off him. The sheer masculinity and size of him. It blows my mind. All topped off by the prettiness of his eyes that are framed by such long lashes that he looks soulful even when he’s trapped in the clutches of passion.
In this position, I can’t touch his body and my hands itch to feel the heat of his skin. I reach to grasp his hand, and he shifts position as though he’s read my mind. He scoops me up, hefting me so that I’m straddling his lap, our bodies now joined all the way. His embrace is fierce, his kiss so searing that I feel woozy. I grind myself against him, rising up and dropping down on his cock, luxuriating in the graze of his body against my clit and the overwhelming feeling of fullness.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs in my ear. “Just like that.”
“Oh,” I gasp, feeling the sensations building towards an orgasm. I’m not expecting it. I didn’t know if I’d ever be capable to come through penetrative sex. It’s never happened before, and as my mind skitters over that fact, I feel the waves recede.
“Hey,” Dominic says, grasping my face, making me focus just on him. “Where did you go?”
I shake my head, avoiding his gaze, but he drops his head to one side so that I can’t avoid looking at him. “Hannah, you’re so fucking beautiful. You feel so good I can barely take it. I want you right here with me so that when I come, you’ll come too.”
His words wipe away all my thoughts, making me focus on our movements. He shifts with every downward thrust I make, our bodies synchronized so much it’s as though we’ve been doing this for years. He strokes my back, lifting my hair so he can kiss my neck.
“That’s it.” I know he must feel my pussy squeezing as I get closer and closer to the orgasm I so desperately want. I’m greedy for him, famished from so many years of feeling damaged and fragile. He clutches at my ass, tugging me closer so our bodies smack together with more force, and it’s what I need; brute force and raw physical passion to wipe away everything that has come before.
“Oh, oh, ohhhh….” Just one more thrust is all it takes to send me over the edge. I seize with the pleasure, arching my back like a tightly strung bow. My pussy bears down on his cock, so tightly that I’m surprised it doesn’t hurt. And he moves slowly through it all, prolonging the euphoric feeling, over and over until I feel totally wrung out.
My eyes are squeezed tightly shut, blocking out everything that might interrupt the purity of my pleasure. Only when I relax in his arms do I feel his breath on my cheek.
“So fucking sexy,” he says, kissing my temple and the corner of my mouth.
I squeeze him closer to me, needing a way to tell him how I’m feeling right now without words. I can feel his heart hammer just off-beat to mine, and the sweat on his back. He smells good, like alpine cologne and warm man. Wrapped around him like this, I feel a sense of calm that I haven’t felt in a long time. He’s a rock. Sturdy. Immovable. Still here despite finding out about my secret job. I never hoped that it could happen. I never thought anyone would see through that to the me behind my situation. The lump in my throat burns bright. I squeeze him tighter because holding him like this is stopping me from breaking apart.
Big D shifts to lay me back on the covers, resting his whole body over me. He moves slowly, grinding rather than thrusting, face buried in my hair on the pillow. He slips his hand into mine, pinning it by my head. I’m totally enveloped by him and it's bliss. I close my eyes just so I can feel more. The sensations are sharper in the darkness of my mind, the sounds of his breathing louder. I can hear the thud of my own heart in my ears, and relish the impact of his thrusts on my body that much better.
“Baby,” he gasps, speeding his hips, beginning to make the journey to the precipice of his own pleasure. I undulate beneath him, wanting him to feel how much I love this, how much I want him. He thrusts so hard that I get cramps from the depth of the penetration, but I don’t care. I want his passion, messy and slippery, needy and clawing. I want the slickness of his perspiration and the sharp scent of his arousal. I want to feel this big strong man reduced to nothing in my arms, because his surrender feels like freedom to me. And I want to be free. So badly it hurts.
Inside, his cock jerks and I know he’s there. Dominic holds me so tight I can barely breathe.
For minutes afterward, neither of us speaks. While we’re silent, linked together and wrapped up in each other’s embrace, I can pretend this is real. I can believe that I might have a chance at spending more nights like this with Dominic Ramsey, rising football star. I can imagine sharing ideas with him, planning our assignments together, getting a bite to eat in the canteen and then strolling back here to do more of this.
He's the first to move, reaching between our bodies to hold tightly to the top of the condom. When he pulls out, I feel so empty and not just physically. I don’t want to associate this with anything that’s happened in my past, but I can’t prevent those thoughts from seeping in. Dominic isn’t Brayden. They are light years apart, but this feeling is the same. I roll onto my side, as Dominic gets up to find the trash. I listen, waiting to hear him rustling around to find his clothes, dressing quickly to make his exit before things get too awkward. His feet pad against the floor but then the bed shifts and he’s lying down behind me, draping his huge arm around my middle and pulling my close to his chest.
He strokes my hair gently and I wish I knew what he was thinking. “Are you okay?” he asks.
I nod and he carries on stroking. “This…I want you to know that it wasn’t a game plan or anything. I didn’t insist on bringing you up here because I wanted to…” He trails off and I smile.
“I know you didn’t.”
“Do you?”
I nod and he goes quiet again. I put my hand over his, linking our fingers.
“I asked around about you,” he says.
“Oh yeah?”
“When Starkie assigned you as my tutor. I knew who you were, but I wanted to find out what you were about.”
“And what did you find out?”
“Not very much. None of my friends knew anyone that had dated you, and I couldn’t figure it out. Pretty girl like you and no line of dudes at your door.”
I snort as though I’m disagreeing and he huffs behind me. “Prettiest girl that I’ve seen in a long time,” he says and I actually blush, grateful that he can’t see my face. My mouth feels dry, my mind skittering over where he might be going with all these questions and observations. Just as I’m starting to panic, my cellphone rings. I’m contemplating not answering it but then Dominic rolls away from me. I turn, thinking he’s going to pass me my purse, but then I see his hand disappear inside it and my heart stops.
The phone continues to ring, but Dominic doesn’t seem to be searching for it anymore. His eyes are in the bag; his hand draws out a huge heap of loose bills that I stuffed inside. He looks up at me, confusion in his eyes. The money quite obviously isn’t tips. Even my most generous and desperate customers only tip tens and twenties.
Eventually, my voicemail must kick in. I grab the t-shirt that I sleep in and tug it over my head. I don’t want to be naked when Dominic finally finds his voice again.
He stares at the money, then rests it on the bed next to him.
“Don’t,” I say, suddenly remembering what else is stuffed into that bag, but it’s too late. I can see from the way his hand is shaped that he’s taken hold of the vibrator.
He holds it up, looking momentarily shocked. His eyes find mine and they look dead. All the sweet affection and heated passion have slipped from them, to be replaced with the expression I expected when he saw me at the club.
Disgust.
Anger.
I turn away and cover my face with my hands. My cheeks are burning. My throat too, as I try to swallow down my emotions.
I expect him to ask questions. I expect accusations. I expect him to shout at me.
Slut.
Whore.
Worthless.
What happens is so much worse.
I hear him gathering his clothes, but I don’t turn.
He doesn’t say a word when he leaves.
The click of the door is the only sound to let me know he’s gone.
And then I’m back where I started.
Alone.