It’s too much. It’s too fucking good. I stay there for a while, pushed as far into her as I can go, feeling her sweet cunt clenching around me, listening to her as she moans beneath me.
I take her wrists in my hands and press them to the mattress on either side of her head, holding them there. Her eyes are wide, her tits bouncing as I start moving my hips, thrusting in and out of her, over and over and over again until it feels like my balls are going to explode. She’s crying out, begging, her pussy clenching tighter around me, and I know she’s close, but I need her closer.
I let go of one of her wrists and press my fingertips to her clit, rubbing her as I thrust into her, hard.
“Come for me now, Samantha,” I command. One thrust, two, and she’s squeezing my cock so hard I see stars, screaming into the penthouse as she has the most beautiful orgasm I’ve ever seen. I ride it out, barely hanging on. Once she’s spent, I lean down and ki
ss her.
“So perfect. So beautiful, Samantha,” I murmur. And then I can’t help myself anymore. I start hammering into her tight little pussy, harder, faster, out of my mind, unable to focus on anything other than how bad I need to come inside her. All I can do is grunt and growl like some kind of animal as I feel my orgasm building, and she’s screaming again, clenching hard around me, and I explode, coming harder than I’ve ever come in my life, thrusting into her sweet body over and over again until I’m finally spent. I collapse on top of her, both of us breathless, sweating. I can feel her heart pounding.
A moment later, I pull out of her and she moans. She’s so damn sensitive, so responsive to every touch, and that thought has me wanting to fuck her again. I quickly get up and throw the condom away, and by the time I turn back to the bed, her eyes are closed and her breathing is even, deep.
I’ve fucked my sweet little stripper right to sleep. I smile and settle into bed beside her, pulling her close before I drift away as well.
***
I wake up the next morning with an almost-painful hard on. Luckily, I know just what to do with it. I open my eyes and look for Samantha, but I find that I’m alone in bed. I can hear water splashing in my bathroom.
All right. Fine. I can wait a couple minutes.
I turn onto my side so that when she climbs back into bed, I’ll be ready to pull her close and get her warmed up for round two. I pull the blankets aside so she can slip right into bed beside me, and that’s when I see it.
I shake my head, but there’s no denying it. There are reddish-brown streaks of blood on the white sheets, right where Samantha was lying when I fucked her the night before.
My gut clenches, and I feel like the air’s been knocked out of me. I don’t even have time to process it before I hear the bathroom door open.
I spin around and look at her. She's still naked, and despite how screwed up and pissed off I am just now, my cock twitches at the sight of her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I growl.
She freezes. “Tell you what?”
I point to the blood stains on the sheets. “You were a virgin, Samantha?”
She blushes and looks away.
“Samantha?” I demand, and she looks back at me.
“Yes.”
Holy fuck. What the fuck did I do? “You didn’t think that detail was worth sharing with me?”
“What does it matter?”
“It matters. You should have told me.” I can feel my rage rising, right along with the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. It feels like I can’t breathe, and the memories that flood my mind make me feel like I’m about to drown.
Her eyes flash. “When was I supposed to tell you, Dante? Huh? When you were licking and sucking me, or when you had your fingers inside me? Or maybe I should have told you before you shoved your dick all the way inside me. When the hell was I supposed to stop and say ‘oh, by the way, Dante, you’re going to be my first.’ And what do you care, anyway?” Her voice is raised, and even through my anger, I think that she’s gorgeous when she’s pissed.
“I don’t fuck virgins,” I snarl. I get out of bed and start pulling on my pants from the night before.
“What the hell kind of rule is that? And if it matters, you probably should have asked me.”
“Yeah, because I totally expect a twenty-one-year-old stripper and escort to be a virgin,” I spit at her, and she looks like I just slapped her. “I mean, who would expect a girl who takes her clothes off for strangers to be a virgin?” I know I’m making excuses and putting it all on her. I know I’m being a dick. I just don’t care.
“It clearly wasn’t something you were worrying about last night. You didn’t hesitate once. If it’s such an important rule, you should have made sure, huh?”
“I wasn’t thinking straight.” I pull my shirt on, leaving it unbuttoned, and then turn back to her. “That never should have happened.”