Either way, I’m trapped in a state I’ve never experienced, and for the life of me, I can’t decide whether that’s good or bad.
All I know is that not knowing his name and deciding this is a one-time thing makes me lose all my inhibitions.
“You’ll let me, won’t you, beautiful?”
“Yeah…” I trail off because I wasn’t thinking when I agreed. Or maybe I haven’t been thinking during this whole night. I want to blame it on the alcohol, but who am I kidding? It’s not the vodka that’s flowing through my veins right now. It’s him.
Everything about him.
“Good.” He laps his tongue on the shell of my ear. “Now, tell me, are you a virgin?”
The sudden question freezes my limbs and causes my pulse to roar and throb in my veins, right beneath his hold.
“Why are you asking?” I speak so low, I’m surprised he can hear me.
“I don’t do virgins.”
“Why not?”
“They’re a hassle I don’t care for. Answer the question. Are you?”
“No,” I whisper and hope he takes it as if I’m too overwhelmed with sensations, not something else.
I think it works, because he’s pushing his knee between my thighs. “Open your legs.”
It’s nearly impossible to do so with his presence at my back, possessing me, holding me hostage, but I manage to shuffle my legs a little.
Still holding my nape with one hand, his other one reaches under my dress and I release a gasp when he cups my needy core.
“Fuck. You came ready.”
My nerve endings pulse at the arousal in his tone, at how absolutely sinful he sounds when he’s taken off guard.
And he’s right, I did come ready and he’s touching my bare pussy right now. When I made the decision to forgo panties, I thought I would have a quickie and go home. That’s still the plan.
But something tells me he won’t honor my plan. He’ll bulldoze through it, shred it apart, and feed it to me, won’t he? It’s that intensity of his that I feel with every brush of his skin on mine.
Intensity can’t be planned. Which is why I shouldn’t have chosen him. But I did, and I couldn’t stop this even if I wanted to.
And a deep part of me rejects that option anyway.
“Are you perhaps an escort?” He slides his fingers against my wet folds, making them wetter and more sensitive. “But you would’ve said that if you were, wouldn’t you?”
“Maybe I’m doing pro bono work tonight.”
I meant it as a jab, but he chuckles again. It’s unnerving, how charming he can get, even though he has sharp edges. It’s not supposed to be like this. Charming people don’t have the intensity of the men I’ve known my entire life.
And the combination of both is dangerous, terrifying even.
But my body doesn’t seem to care about that fact, because the moment he thrusts a finger inside me, I go on my tiptoes, stifling a moan.
“You have a mouth on you,” he rasps, driving his finger deeper.
“Yeah, and I’m not afraid to use it.” Not really, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Does that mean you’ll choke on my dick and let me come down that pretty throat?”
I choke, but it’s on my barely existent drool. I’m thinking of a comeback when he thrusts an additional finger and tightens his hold on my nape.
I go still, afraid to move or even breathe. Holy fucking shit. It’s full, so full that I think I’ll burst with the sensation. I’ve done this to myself before, but it’s never felt this…overwhelming.
It’s only two fingers.
His fingers that are as hard and sharp as the man himself. But what makes my arousal worse is how he grabs my neck as if he has every right to, how he presses on my pulse point, controlling my shaky, chopped breathing.
“Here’s a tip, I don’t like talkers,” he says casually as he pounds his fingers into me, scissoring and crisscrossing them in rhythm with my shaky inhales and exhales.
“T-too bad; you…g-got one…”
“Looks like I’m not doing it hard enough if you’re still able to speak.” He drives another finger inside and I shriek, the sound piercing the deafening silence of the hotel room.
If I thought I was full before, I’m bursting right now. And that sensation, the thought that he’s so deep inside me that I’m about to explode with him, is enough to make me orgasm.
It’s savage and merciless, just like him, like that expression in his eyes that I can’t look into, because I’m broken and can’t make eye contact.
But I don’t have to look to feel the pleasurable wave, to bask in every second of it, in every minuscule detail and every long, deep thrust of his fingers. They’re still driving into me, elongating the orgasm, making it ten times wilder.
It’s like I’ve never had an orgasm before. As if my body has been preparing for this type of orgasm, one that shatters my paper-like expectations and blows away my fairy tale dreams.
“You’re not talking now, are you, beautiful?” There’s a smirk in his voice and it should piss me off, but I’m too drunk on the pleasure to focus on that.
“I…can…”
“Hmm.” His fingers slip out of me and before I can make any sound, he grips me by the nape and wrenches me from the door. I gasp when he pushes me to my knees in front of him.
I stare at him for a second. It’s only a second, but it’s enough to see the dark lust in his hazel eyes. That’s their color, I now realize. Instead of being green like the mystic forest from my childhood, they’re a mixture of the color of the trees and earth.
I’m distracted from them, though, because he’s unzipping his pants and freeing his cock. That’s where my wild gaze is focused on right now.
His thick, veiny, and very hard cock. It’s so hard that it’s changed color, becoming a shade of purple.
A twinge of apprehension zaps through me at the size. He couldn’t just have a tiny cock, could he?
I was ready for this not to be satisfying. After all, it’s only a mission, and I didn’t let my hopes soar high. But just the sight of his dick is enough to make me tingly again. I just had an orgasm, but my body still demands more of him.
Of that.
“Do you know what will happen now, beautiful?” There’s a tightness in his sharp jaw and his hand flexes around his length as if he’s conjuring some form of patience.
I shake my head, still staring at his massive erection. How could it get this hard?
“You’re going to make that mouth useful and suck my cock.”
My thighs clench together at the image and I lick my lips and then bite my tongue to stop whatever is about to come out.
I’m a good girl and good girls don’t make embarrassing sounds.
Good girls don’t have one-night stands either, but this is an exception. My last indulgence before everything changes.
The British stranger digs his fingers into the back of my hair and directs his dick at my parted lips. “Open.”
Instead of doing as he asks, I wrap my lips around his crown and lick the precum. He groans at that, which means he likes it, so I inch up on my knees and take more of him inside, hollowing my cheeks so I don’t graze him with my teeth.
I’ve never been told how to do this, but I’m good at mixing the little knowledge I’ve gained through watching porn with the heat of the moment. That’s what I do right now, hoping to hell he doesn’t realize that I’m figuring this out as I go.
Using his hold on my hair, he pushes me down on his cock and all my doubts vanish. He’s deep-throating me, I think, and I can’t help my gag reflex when his dick hits the back of my throat.
I splutter, choking on his cock, and even with that, I’m unable to take him all in, unable to fit him into my mouth. I try, though. Instead of letting my gag reflex rule me, I relax my jaw, letting him thrust in a few times before I lick and suck.
Yes, I might not be as experienced as he is, but he’s not the only one who gets to wield power over someone else.
I want that, too.