I flick it and she gasps. I take advantage of her open mouth to deepen the kiss and she pulls me closer with her legs, grinding her pussy against me.
Jesus Christ.
My control snaps for a second, but that’s all it takes. I release her breast, bracing my weight on the bed, and grab a fistful of her golden locks. I don’t give them a loving tug; I yank her hair so hard she yelps and drag her sideways across the mattress. Her legs fall open and she appears startled, bringing a hand to my chest like she’s going to push me away.
I grab her arms and pin them over her head, gazing down at her. Uncertainty flickers in her fearful blue eyes, but there’s still arousal, too. I secure her wrists with one hand but she doesn’t try to break free. When I reach down and shove my cock inside her, she winces, but only briefly. We’ve done this dance before so whether she’s up for it or not, she knows the steps. Her body adjusts within a few hard thrusts. She squeezes her eyes shut as I pound inside her. I’m rough with her this morning. After the tenderness she awoke to, she wasn’t prepared for this, but she takes every bit of the brutality I dole out.
When I feel myself getting close, I release her wrists and impulsively grab her by the throat.
Her eyes fly open wide and she instinctively grabs at my hand. I don’t squeeze hard, not hard enough to damage—only hard enough to scare her. It works, too. There’s fear in her eyes as she looks up at me, waiting. Am I just going to fuck her, or am I going to kill her?
Of course, I don’t kill her. I didn’t want to, even before her fearful blue eyes plead with me to spare her. I certainly don’t after that. She doesn’t know what goes on in my head though; she only knows the dangerous man who’s fucking her suddenly grabbed her by the throat.
I come deep inside her tight pussy and all the violence drains out of me. I collapse against her, so I can feel her heart pounding, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tries to catch her breath.
Once I’ve had a minute to recover, I pull back and look down to check on her. “You okay?”
Confusion flickers in her gaze again like she’s not entirely sure, but she nods.
“Did I hurt you?”
Swallowing audibly, she murmurs, “I’m just sore.”
Poor girl, she can’t keep up just yet. She doesn’t know if she’s displeased me in some way and we regressed, or…?
Just or. I’m sure she doesn’t know what the alternative might be.
At least, that’s what I figure, but then she finds her voice and asks, “Did you want to hurt me?”
I move off her and roll back into my spot on the bed. “No. If I wanted to hurt you, I would have.”
A few seconds pass, then she scoots back to her own spot, pulling the comforter up to cover her naked body. She drags it all the way up to her neck again, like she needs the cover. I pay close attention. I want to push her, test her limits, see what she’s interested in. Vince has done absolutely nothing to cultivate this virgin territory he fell right into. She has no idea what she likes (neither does he) and he’s not helping her figure it out.
This is why virgins should have more experienced lovers.
Well, aside from their tendency to attach. Some virgins get clingy.
I like clingy, though. I probably should’ve picked myself out a nice little virgin to train instead of goddamned Beth.
Not that Mia isn’t close. She was a virgin a mere month ago and now here she is in my bed. That’s quite the adjustment. I probably should’ve eased her in so as not to scare her off.
Then again, where can she go?
I realize I’m thinking this over like I’m keeping her. I don’t want to deal with that, so I shove it away.
Mia is still processing what just happened. She peers up at me with those big blue eyes, not sure which box to put this in. “You just wanted to scare me?”
“It can be fun to be scared sometimes,” I tell her. “As long as you’re actually safe, what’s the harm?”
“Am I, though? You said as long as I keep you entertained you won’t kill me. Is this what it takes to—?”
She stops short and I can’t refrain from letting cynical amusement roll over me. Is this what it takes? I realize I had no right to hope she was allowing me to fuck her for any other reason—I’m not even sure we can call it fucking; I don’t share her need for boxes, so I don’t frankly care what she wants to call it—but I still manage to feel disappointed.