The pain was incredible. Like I was being ripped in two. Tears prickled my eyes and I kept my head down, not wanting to meet his gaze in the mirror. I tried to hold back the scream, but I couldn't.

Just breathe through it. It will be fine. He froze immediately. It was done. He staggered back, his cock falling free from my pussy.

"What the hell?" I glanced behind me and saw what he saw. Blood. "You're..." His mouth moved, but no words came out. My secret. Finally, out in the open. "a virgin." I nodded. He ran his fingers through his hair.

"What the fuck, Frankie?" His voice on the edge of anger and disbelief. Shame and embarrassment burned in my stomach.

I snapped upright, not even daring to look at him and raced into the bathroom slamming the door behind me. Stupid. It was a stupid thing to do. I shouldn't have sprung that on him. But I'd been in more than one situation over the years where a guy had gone running from the room the minute I told him.

I slid my toes along the cool tile, massaging them and running my hands over my ankles. We hadn't even gotten into the territory to talk about those. I sat on the cool tile floor and pulled my knees up, resting my head on them. Tears welled in my eyes, but I fought them back.

The dancing. The dress. Him. I got caught up in the moment. It was like I'd imagined back in high school. How I wanted it to be with him. And it was my chance. Everything felt so good, I let it happen. I wanted it to happen. I wanted John to be the one to do it, because after tonight I felt like my carriage was going to turn back into a pumpkin, and I wanted memories of this to be something special.

But being a virgin at nearly twenty-nine wasn't exactly an easy thing to spring on a guy, especially not when I owned a place like I did. I should have told him. I should have warned him, but I didn't want him to run. I didn't want John to be like any of the other guys I'd been close with over the years. The feelings I had for him back in school, during the dance, were there. They'd never left. As much as I wanted to deny it and hated myself for it. It was true.

I pulled myself up and splashed cold water on my face and tried to not burst into tears. My reflection didn’t look any different. I looked like a mess. A deflowered, red-eyed mess. That was the last thing I needed. I grabbed one of the towels and wiped the water from my face. The last bits of makeup on my skin stained the towel. Wiping it all away, embarrassment bloomed in my stomach again. I'd practically thrown myself at him and then raced out the minute he found out what I'd been hiding.

How was I ever going to face him again?

I glanced at the rest of the big, fluffy towels hanging up on the towel rack and considered making a little towel nest of shame for myself and waiting this out. He'd have to leave eventually. The hotel would be okay with me overstaying my booking. I had water.

You could definitely survive for at least a week without food. I grabbed a robe off the back of the bathroom door and slid it on.

John's gentle knock sliced through the quiet and solitude of the bathroom.

"Frankie.Are.You.Okay?" His muffled voice filled with concern, which made me want to cry. I zipped my lips together. Maybe he'd think I was gone. Evaporated into thin air and slid out under the front door. It wasn't like there was anywhere for me to go.

"Frankie, as much as I wish I could, I can't see through this thing, so I need you to tell me you're okay." I hated the concern in his voice. Like I was some kind of broken thing. I wasn't. And it made me feel a hundred times worse that I hadn't told him. We were supposed to be turning over a new leaf.

I didn't even want to know what was running through his mind. I was afraid to have the conversation that would come once I opened that door.

"Frankie, are. you. okay?" he asked again, the worry laced even deeper. I couldn't stop myself. I didn't want him to worry. Didn't want him to freak out. Ha! I could say the same thing about myself.

"I'm fine," I said, barely raising my voice above the running water from the sink. There, he knew I was alive, I was fine. He could back off.

"I need you to come out here."

"I think I'm just going to hang out in here. It's spacious and comfy."

"Would you please come out here?"

I leaned my head against the door, a gentle thud hitting against the wood.

"I really don't want to, John." And I didn't. I didn't want to face him. Barely wanted to face myself.

"Francesca, I need you to come out here." And just like that all my worries were replaced by anger. He knew how much I hated my full name. So now, he was just trying to get a rise out of me. I knew why he did it. Talk about one way to get me to do exactly what he wanted me to. Fine. If he wasn't freaked out, then neither was I.

I whipped the bathroom door open, and it flooded the bedroom with the light from the bathroom. John stood just outside the doorway with the look of concern still on his face. I didn't want him to look concerned. I wanted that look he gave me before. That look that made me feel like I could make him forget his own name. Like there was no place he would rather be, than in the room with me. Like he couldn't get enough of me. Because I couldn't get enough of him.

He took a step closer to me, but I didn't back down. He stared at me for a moment before his fingers threaded into my hair and he crushed his lips to mine. Yes! I parted my lips to ask him what he was doing. But he took that as an invitation, thrusting his tongue into my mouth. Our tongues danced. His taste sent a tingling down to my toes.

Everything wasn't ruined. We could still do this. I still wanted to do this. Now that I didn't think we were going to have to have the embarrassing heart-to-heart that would come with finding out he had just devirginated me. His hands slid along my back, gliding along the fluffy robe.

His hands slid down to my ass and squeezed both my cheeks. I moaned and ground myself to him. Maybe it was like ripping a Band-Aid off and this time it would be better. I could salvage the night.

"Frankie, wait." But I didn't want to wait, I wanted to keep going. Kissing him along his jaw. But he finally put his hands on my shoulders, his fingers wrapping around them and staring at me. "Wait."

I dropped my head, not wanting to look him in the eye. If we kept on with the sex, that would be easy, but talking would be hard. I dropped my hands from his shoulders and took a step back. He kept his hands on my shoulders. The warmth from his skin seeping through my robe.

"Is that why you invited me here? Wanted me to share your room?" he asked, his voice rough. My eyes snapped to his, and a little panic creeped into my voice.

"What? No!" My shoulders sank. "I didn't expect this at all. I'm sorry if you feel like I tricked you. That wasn't what I planned on doing. It just felt so good, and I wanted to. I wanted to keep going, because I liked everything we were doing. I...I didn't know how to tell you. A lot of guys are freaked out." His jaw was tight and his fingers pressed into my shoulder a little before he seemed to force himself to relax. I stared down at the floor, not really sure what came next.

"Well, that's where you screwed up. I'm not a lot of guys. And the only thing that would have been different if you told me, is I'd have gone slower, made it better."

He ran his finger under my chin and lifted my head until I met his eyes.

"Are you okay?" He emphasized each word and searched my face waiting for me to respond. My heart fluttered at the look of concern on his face. I felt bad that I'd worried him so much, but loved that he cared.

"I'm fine. Really. I'm sorry, I sprung that on you. I...I didn't know how to tell you." I resisted the urge to drop my eyes.

"I wish you had," he said, sliding his hand up the side of my face. He rubbed his thumb across my cheek, and I leaned into his touch. The rough pad of his finger slid across my skin and then came to my mouth. He ran his thumb over my bottom lip and the pulsing in my clit was back. I glanced up at him as I bit his thumb. Desire bloomed in his eyes, and his pupils dilated as I reached up and raked my nails across his scalp. I ran my tongue along the tip of his thumb, and he clenched his teeth together.

"Frankie..." There was a warning tone in his voice.

"I'm ready to try again." I said, letting go of his thumb. He growled and lifted me up, sitting me gently on the bed. My robe fell open and I leaned back as he tugged the robe’s belt completely open. I glanced down at the way his cock was tented in his boxers and licked my lips.

"Don't do that," he said, chastising me.

"Do what?" I asked innocently.

"You're going to make me lose what little self-control I have. Stop looking at me like that," he said, pushing his boxers down. His cock sprung up, right to attention. I reached out and he caught my wrist. His hand wrapping around my wrist and bracelet with the rope from his wrist cuff scraping against my hand. A shudder raced through my body.

"If you touch me, I can't promise I'll be gentle," he said, climbing onto the edge of the bed.

"Who said I wanted you to be?" I challenged. I let my legs fall apart and wrapped them around his waist. His cock rubbed against my wet pussy. It glided between my lips and bumped against my clit. John sucked in a sharp breath and rocked his hips into me.

"John." He was in his own world with my hands pinned above my head and his other hand beside my head. "John!" His eyes snapped open.

"I need you," I said, not even ashamed by the need in my voice. He let out a deep breath and lined himself up with my opening teasing me with the crown of his cock.

I cried out as he pushed into me. My body opening to him. My toes curled as he pressed deeper into me. His cock split me open, but not like before. This was slow, with every nerve ending in my body firing as he sunk deeper. His eyes were on me the entire time.

"More," I begged. "More, John." I lifted my hips and tightened my legs around him, so that he lost his balance and fell, slamming completely into me. It took my breath away, and he tried to pull back, but I tightened myself around him.

"Jesus, Frankie. What the hell?"

"Don't move," I said, my pussy involuntarily clenching around him.

"Fuck. Fuck," he bit out a string of even more curses. "I need to move."

"Please," I said, moving my hips. There was still some pain, but not like before. This pain only made the pleasure feel that much better, and there was a lot of it. He reached down after a few seconds and his thumb grazed my clit. It was all I needed, and he set me off like an explosion. I screamed so loud, I was afraid I might have deafened him.

My nails dug into his back as I came down from my first orgasm, only to have him shift his hips, so each movement made him rub my clit harder. It was like my body was attached to a live wire. This was so much better than I'd ever dreamed.

Nothing I'd watched through my screens at the club compared to this. John's weight settled onto me as he held onto my shoulders, using them as leverage to hammer even harder into me. I grabbed onto his face and pressed my lips to his. He tasted like peppermint and sweat. My tongue danced with his before he groaned into my mouth, his muscles coiled and bunched as he came. I felt him expand, and his orgasm sent me off on another of mine. I swear, John Grimsby was going to be the death of me.

He collapsed on top of me, but managed to keep most of his weight off me. He ran his lips along my neck and pulled out of me. We both groaned as he fell free from my clenching pussy.

After wiping me down with a wet cloth, he rearranged me in the bed. I was pretty much dead weight at that point. He nestled in behind me with his cock at half-mast, nestled against my butt. It was like we were drifting on a cloud, and not just because of this mattress. I snuggled in deeper into his hold and let out a contented sigh.

The sore, achy feeling brought a smile to my face. He kissed the side of my face and tightened his arms around me. Things were good. So much better than I ever could have imagined. And as I drifted off to sleep, I wanted to know just how long this was supposed to last. At that moment, I didn't care. Everything felt so good, but that tiny little voice in the back of my head couldn't help but whisper.

What would happen in the morning?