Home For The Holidays

I was giving serious thought to the fact that I might be a freak because I’ve noticed that the more forceful he is, the more receptive I am to him. I think maybe he’d noticed too because he pressed his hardening length between my thighs and squeezed his hand around my throat as he eased his tongue past my lips.

I braced for the same thing to happen again, but this time it was softer, sweeter, but just as powerful. “You’re very responsive, aren’t you beauty?” He didn’t give me a chance to respond before that hand tightened around my throat, and he whispered a harsh threat in my ear, and just like before, I went up and over with a scream as I tried to swallow his tongue.

* * *

JARED

* * *

What a gem, and to think she just fell into my lap. I looked down at her in wonder for the second time in less than ten minutes. My mind was grappling with the significance of what just happened because I was having a hard time believing it was real. She can’t possibly be this damn perfect; there’s no way. But I won’t know until I try.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To my bed.” I’ve avoided taking her anywhere near my bed this past week by force of sheer will. I told myself it was too soon for both of us that she needed time. I’m ever conscious that she didn’t come looking for this, that her reasons for seeking me out had nothing to do with romance. Funnily enough, I think that’s one of the main reasons I’ve fallen so hard and fast for her.

She’s arguably the first person I’ve met in my adult life that has no guile, no avarice, and does not see dollar signs when she looks at me. That first night after she left, I’d checked up on her, half expecting her to spill the beans about meeting me, at least to her girlfriends or someone close to her, but nothing, she hadn’t said a word.

For the past week, I’ve sent my car for her as soon as her last class of the day was over, and that after pacing the apartment back and forth like a caged animal all day. Missing her was like a drug. I felt as if I would go mad if I didn’t get my fix. Some days I barely let her get her homework done before taking her to the couch for some heavy make-out sessions.

I loved the fact that she was a novice. Her lack of experience showed loud and clear, and my suspicions about her virginity were confirmed. I’d guessed from peeking into her life and seeing the lack of any romantic entanglements, but until her innocent responses and the fact that she didn’t know how to play coy to get what she wanted, I wasn’t one hundred percent sure.

Each night I had to pull away, telling myself that I was giving her time. As innocent as she is, I was sure she would see giving herself to me this soon as some sort of blemish on her character, but if she wanted time, she shouldn’t have shown me this side of her. I’ve always had a streak of the masochist in me has always liked my sex a little on the dirty side.

Mostly it’s more of an act on the woman’s part. Some have even put up with it thinking that if they pleased me, I’d keep them at my side. But none of them has ever been as natural as she’d just been. Now that time, I wanted to give her for her sake, and mine has come to an end. No one who knows the real me would believe the step I was about to take. But I didn’t get where I am today by ignoring my gut, and my gut has been telling me since she walked into my office that this is the one.

She’d stiffened in my arms when I mentioned my bed, but I didn’t let that stop me. “Don’t worry, beauty; I’ll take care of you.” I’m not sure that was enough reassurance. She’s mentioned the size of my dick more than once, and I let her disrespectful belief that I’d stuffed my briefs with socks stand because the truth might send her running for cover.

I’d already made up my mind that our first time, I was going to take my time and get her heated up, too hot to care about what my monster might do to her. I, too, am a bit worried about her size. She’s by far the tiniest female I’ve ever had any interest in. In fact, up until a week ago, I would’ve sworn that my tastes ran to the statuesque model type, which is pretty much all I’ve dated in the past.