Silas pulls me to straddle his lap after giving me yet another mind-blowing orgasm with his sinful tongue. He leans back against the padded leather headboard while grabbing a single plump strawberry from the chilled bowl at his bedside.
“Open,” he instructs with a gravelly tone that permeates through me, causing me to shudder.
His dominance should offend me as his directness doesn’t leave room for hesitation or thought. The manner in which he transitions from playfulness to hot Dom guy excites me a bit more than it should. I do as I’m told as I focus my attention on his lips that were just acquainted with the most intimate parts of me. The softness of them is a stark contrast to his brown mustache that has hints of blond.
Being this close and personal—detailing his angular, chiseled face, dimples, and blue eyes—awakens the butterflies in my belly. My heart slams against my chest at just how damn pretty he is. And oddly enough, he wants me. His dick is mere inches from my throbbing pussy, yet he feeds me strawberries like he didn’t just deliver an earth-shattering orgasm a few minutes ago. He leans over again, this time to pour me a glass of more champagne. He doesn’t have to instruct me anymore to let him feed me. It’s becoming our thing, and I have to say I like it. I’m not even fretting over being naked with him, but that’s in part to the alcohol, I’m sure. I just want more kisses from him, so I boldly take them.
I drink the last of the champagne in my flute before leaning over him to put it back on the nightstand. My breast grazes his mouth as I do so, and he sticks his tongue out for a quick lick. I pull back just slightly so I can grab both sides of his head. I hold him still as I find his mouth with mine. He isn’t expecting that. A slow grin spreads before he gives in to my pursuit. I kiss him with the intensity building within me, this desperate need to consume him. I inch closer until I’m hovering over his cock. I rub myself against it, feeling the ache grow into an inferno of need … feeling him lengthen and harden between us. I gyrate my hips, wanting to feel his thickness penetrate me. I’m ready. I’ve never been more sure of something in my life.
“Slow down there, cowgirl. Your next orgasm will be on my dick but inside your walls. I want that excited little pussy riding me just like that.”
He slaps my ass, and the sting leaves even more wetness in its wake.
“I’m ready, Silas,” I plead. He’s got me all worked up. I’m ready for him to give me what he’s been promising me all night. I’m ready for him to fuck me.
“Are you now?” That damn eyebrow of his arches up in the way he does that is too sexy to be fair. “I think the wetness gave that away, sweetness.”
“Why are you teasing me? I thought you—”
I don’t get to finish that question. He flips us over, and now he’s hovering on top of me. He wraps my legs firmly around his hips as he pauses to slide a condom over his substantial cock. Holy shit, this is really happening. Will he fit? His eyes are trained on mine as he makes a show of sheathing himself. He strokes it a few times, and I find it pleasantly erotic. He lines his dick up at my entrance and slides it through my wetness, building me up more.
“Relax, sweetheart. Just feel.”
I feel the pinch and then the burn. He stills briefly before introducing more of his cock. He stretches me open, and I welcome the bite of pain. Every inch he pushes in burns in an oddly delicious way. He continues his unhurried thrusts until I’m full of him. I throb around him. Pain and pleasure mix in a euphoric bliss. Just as the pain begins to dissipate, he begins to move.
“Shit!” I cry out, but he doesn’t stop.
Those captivating blues pin me to the bed as he begins a leisurely stroke. The pain intensifies until all that remains is the stars dancing behind my eyes. Stars I have come to welcome. My hips begin to move on their own accord, desperate for every inch he’s keeping away from me. I want them all. Sensing my need, he drives deeper.
“This pussy was made for me. I can tell by how tight it clenches for me. Feels so fucking incredible.”
His eyes never leave mine as he picks up the pace. The sound of his balls slapping against my wetness echoes through his suite. He pulls me tighter as his hips begin to piston harder—deeper.
“Ahhhh,” I scream out.
“Am I hurting you, love? Is it too much?” He slows, but my legs wrap around him tighter.
“Yes! Please don’t stop.”
“Hmmm, my little innocent Bren welcomes the pain. Noted.” He resumes his punishing strokes, and I hold on for the ride. Each thrust gets me intoxicatingly closer to my release. A few more deep strokes and I’m exploding around his cock in waves. This is my strongest orgasm yet. My legs tremble as he thrusts his way to his own release. His mouth dips down, and he latches onto my shoulder as he fucks me savagely. I feel the moment his dick throbs within me, my own aftershocks intertwining with his. When the sensation finally dissipates, we both lay there, unable to move—his dick still inside me.
Neither of us speaks a word. Several moments pass before he slides out of me, and the soreness is instant.
“Ah,” I cry out again. Seems like my vocabulary has been fuckably reduced. I have no other words. Silas has fucked them out of me.
“Come on,” he says as he gets out of bed and reaches for my hand.
I take it and let him assist me out the bed. I foolishly look back. Fresh red blood stains his expensive white sheets. My mouth drops, but no sound escapes. I look between my legs as if the blood could have come from anywhere else. Dried blood coats the inside of my thighs. Silas reaches for me again, but I’m mortified. I’ve heard of the whole popping the cherry thing, but I didn’t expect to saturate his sheets like some sort of pussy sacrifice.
“Um … sorry about your sheets. I can pay for them. I just got to go.” I know if I’m covered in blood like the movie Carrie, then I’m sure his cock is wearing it. I need to get the hell out of here. I attempt to snatch my swimsuit from the floor, but strong arms grab me before I get the chance.
“Shut it. I’m not letting you run because of a little blood. What did you think would happen? Newsflash, I didn’t exactly go easy on you.” He chuckles. Only I can’t find it in me to laugh with him.
“My little sex kitten wanted it rough. Stop freaking out. It’s only sheets. So worth it.” His banter fades when he sees the stupid tears begin to trickle down my face. The ones I didn’t want him to see, but he wouldn’t let me go.
“Stop, please.” His voice softens, and that makes it worse. I’m ruining something that was seriously spectacular just moments ago.
He grabs my hand again and walks us to his shower. Without letting go of my hand, he turns on the water. When the temperature has heated to his satisfaction, he pulls me into the glass kingdom with him. His bathroom truly is a palace in its own right; only I’m too distracted by my own embarrassment to care.
“Look at me, beautiful,” he says encouragingly. When I do, the gentleness in his eyes shakes my soul. He pulls me further into him and kisses me slowly. This kiss doesn’t harness the wild passion like before. It’s tender and sweet. He holds me close and continues to kiss me under the rain showerhead. I feel the moment some of the embarrassment begins to ebb away. Being held like this makes me desire things I can’t have—like him.
Silas finally breaks the kiss, but only so he can wash me. I don’t even mind that it’s some woodsy manly body wash. It smells like him. He uses extra care when he uses the washcloth between my legs, but I still flinch. My swollen vagina is sensitive to the touch, and he notices. He pats softer and then removes the nozzle to aim the warm water just where needed. He holds it there, letting the warmness dull the ache.
“Too much too fast,” he says almost to himself.
It’s my turn to comfort. “It’s fine, Silas.”
He nods, but he doesn’t look convinced. He steps further underneath the water to wash, and I watch as the water repels from his taut muscles. Worry creases his thick brows, and the mood change is apparent. My own embarrassment over the mess I made has taken a back seat to my concern about what he’s thinking. I don’t want him to have regrets. He turns away from me, leaving me to study his perfection freely. His back flexes and every etch of defined muscle is making me want him again—for him to erase whatever this heaviness is that is thick between us, suffocating any remaining bliss.
I massage his back similar to what he treated me to earlier. I ease my hand around his abs and play with the rock-hard ridges beneath my fingers. He truly has the body of a god. I bet women throw their panties at him, and I’ve just had a taste. He brings more than just looks to the table. He’s the total package. His grip on my wrist halts my exploring, and I feel the tension before he even turns around.
“You have to stop before you make me hard again,” he warns, turning around. He shuts off the water and reaches for a towel for each of us. He hands me one and begins to dry himself off. My insecurities resurrect tenfold. Of course. Why didn’t I figure this out until now? That concern I read on his face was probably him wondering how he would go about kicking me out. The shower was just so I didn’t leave his room wearing the evidence of my lost virginity. He doesn’t want to get worked up because he’s done. I foolishly thought he worried that he’d hurt me. Why the hell did he kiss me like that then?
I dry off in record time. No strings. Got it. It was fun, and now it’s done.
“You have a regular t-shirt I can borrow? I’ll return it; I just don’t remember where I laid mine down at the moment.”
I just need to get that shirt and get the hell out of here. I got what I came here for, so why does his dismissal feel like a slap.
“Of course. I’ll grab you one in a sec.”
He wraps the towel around himself and walks back toward the bedroom, so I wrap my towel around my body and follow. Instead of getting the shirt immediately, he begins to strip the linens from the bed. I listen as he makes a call to have them replaced. While he is on the phone, I head outside where we were to find my shirt.
“What are you doing?”
His voice startles me, but I continue my search. “Looking for my shirt so I can go,” I answer, never looking in his direction.
“I told you I would grab you one. I just needed to get new bedding first. Why are you leaving?”
Is he for real?
“I’m not doing the whiplash thing with you, Silas. Tonight was great. Now I’m going back to my room,” I huff. “Well, as soon as I get a shirt. Can you get that please?”
My tough exterior is slipping. Inside, my heart is crumbling into a million disappointed pieces. I got so carried away with the tender moments that I lost sight of what this actually was—a fuck.
“Great? That’s what tonight was?” He takes calculating steps toward me, his face stern and questioning.
“Yes.”
I don’t know what else to say. He tilts his head to the side in disbelief, and I know that was the wrong answer.
“So what now? You give me your virginity, and now you’re ready to run again?” Agitation radiates off him. “Why do you make me chase you? I said I wouldn’t, and here I am yet again—chasing!”
“I didn’t ask you to chase me,” I spit. “You know what? Forget the shirt. I’ll go back to my room in this damn towel.”
“You didn’t ask me to chase you? Says the woman running.”
“Ugh,” I grunt.
I spin on my heel. I’m done. I maybe get three steps away before I’m grabbed around my waist.
“Dammit, Silas. First, you go all cold and push me away in the shower, and now you want to keep me from leaving? If you’re done with me, just let it be so. I gave you an out here. You didn’t even have to kick me out.”
“Is that what’s been going through that imagination of yours? Creating fictional scenarios on how this would all play out?” He holds me tighter. “I was upset with myself, Brennan. I wanted to take it easier on you the first time. I pride myself on control.”
“It’s fine. I told you. It’s what I wanted. The pain was …”
“Was what?” he pushes.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “At that moment, it was pleasure too. Now I’m just sore.”
“You have to learn your limits. I should have known better. My dick overruled my rational thought, and for that, I apologize.”
“I don’t want you to have regrets. I already feel bad about your sheets.”
“Can you just forget about those stupid sheets? I don’t regret my time with you, either, so get that misconception out of that pretty little head of yours.”
“So now what? I’m not running.”
“Now you bring your sexy ass back to my bed. We’ll ice your swollen pussy back to normal, so I can make a follow-up visit.”
He winks at me, and just like that, the tension melts away. He picks me up and carries me to his now newly made bed. Only he doesn’t toss me on it this time. He eases me down in the center before running his hand through the melted ice.
“Oh, that just won’t do. Sit tight. I’ll get more ice.”
I don’t want to ice my vagina, but if he thinks that will help, I’ll try it. I didn’t forget about the shirt, and I don’t think he did either. Slick fucker just wants to keep me naked. He’s asked me to stay, so I’ll stay quiet about it for now. Just as he promised, he wraps some ice in a towel and holds it to my swollen pussy. The burn of the coldness is hard to tolerate until the numbness takes over. With a click of the remote, he turns off the light.
I don’t know at what point I fell asleep, but I wake in the middle of the night with an arm around my waist. Snuggled against his naked form. Suddenly, this is all too intimate. This feels dangerously like the beginning of something one-sided. This may be a casual cuddle for him, much like the day in my cabin, but it’s not for me. The reckless feelings stirring within me clue me in that I have to go. I remove his arm, careful not to wake him up, then grab my still damp swimsuit off the floor and put it on. At least if I run into anyone, it will look like I just came back from a twilight swim. I look back at the bed one last time as the moonlight shines across his still sleeping form. Sorry, Silas.