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“I want you inside me now, Gian,” Lucy says. Her eyes are pleading. Is this a distraction because of the argument? Is this because of the argument — Lucy doesn’t strike me as that type, but there are women who enjoy that sort of getting riled and getting defiled thing. Or can this be what I truly hope it is … that she wants me?
Or worse of all, is she just saying this because Lucy is afraid of the consequences otherwise?
I'm not a gentle man when I’m wronged. Embarrassed even. Sure, there are few that know Lucy is mine just yet. I have that reputation; perhaps everyone who thinks I fucked her also thinks I’m discarding her. I'm married after all.
I don’t know what to make of any of this.
The argument inside the club has me doubting every ounce of progress that we made. I don’t want to be the monster that I know I could be. I’m losing face if I let my girl — and I want to publicly declare Lucy as my girl — prance around half naked. When I met her she was a virgin. She tells me that I make her feel sexy … and then she wants to feel sexy in front of so many people. No matter how erotic the sight of her up on that stage were, I don’t want other people to get to see it.
But I’m trying to give her a choice. Let her be free to live her own life as she chooses.
And I’m the dick who doesn’t want her to dance on stage for strangers to try and stuff dollars in her panties … but I'm not the dick who doesn’t recognize that genuine talent and athleticism that goes into actual pole dancing. Lucy has a natural gift for it. I want to be angry, but I also don’t want to crush something that makes Lucy feel good about herself. I saw how she handled it when a man tried to put his hands on her. Hearing her say that she was mine was the most erotic sound I’d ever heard in my life, short of hearing Lucy moan with my cock deep inside her.
And after I’ve yelled at her and now I have her back in our penthouse suite…do I really want to be that guy?
Worse than being the guy who is taking advantage of her is being the guy that willingly takes advantage of her when I know she doesn’t want this. That’s the thing. I don’t want her to fuck me here and now if she doesn’t want this? Did I ever give her a fucking choice? It doesn’t matter how it makes me look or what is happening, I want to know that Lucy isn’t sleeping with me because she feels like she has to. I want her more than my next breathe. I care more about sinking my cock into her than I care about if I’ll open my eyes another day. But more than any of that, I don’t want to harm Lucy. I don’t want to hurt her.
I want to ask her if she’s sure that she wants this. But whom am I fucking kidding? I don’t want to ask her that. I took her virginity when she offered it to me and I told her that she would be in my bed. And as things are about to happen now, and she says those words, I want to ask her again. Fuck me, I’m going to be the cause of my own death.
“I mean it, Lucy. You can go right now and I’ll help your brother — I don’t want you my prisoner.” I say this as earnestly as I can, which means I have to keep my hands off of her. This makes me clench my fists. My hands don’t feel right anymore when they aren’t touching her. They aren’t my own. None of me is. I want to belong to her the way that she swore to belong to me. I’ve never felt that before and it's fucking dangerous.
The logical part of me should know that it's downright madness for me to allow myself this kind of attachment. It makes me weak. If it can be used to hurt me, I shouldn’t allow myself to feel it and I should squash it. If I was going to be able to just keep her no matter what, I should've said nothing.
Instead, I’m looking into her large, beautiful eyes looking up at me. I don’t see fear for me — and perhaps I need to warn her again — but I see a trepidation that she isn’t voicing.
Stepping back two long strides, I have to put some distance between us. It feels like a magnetic pull will bring us back together, and I can’t have that.
Lucy steps closer to me. “Gian, I…I don’t know much right now. I’m hurt, I’m lost; I’m alone. But I know that I want you. Would you so quickly discard me? Is that it? Am I being foolish, a dumb little girl you fucked and now you want to get rid of? I wouldn’t have expected the chivalry then. That’s a nice touch,” her words scratch at her throat and she lifts up her hands to press her fingers to her temples. She walks toward me.
Doesn’t she know that every fucking second she walks near me, it erases every ounce of resolve in my body?
I can’t keep myself from her if she won’t let me let her go. “Lucy,” I groan, but her hands are already on me. This can’t be the same woman who seemed to despise me, who didn’t want anything to do with me, who was terrified of me? How can her hands be on me like they are?
Pressing her hands to my chest, her palms are flat to my pectorals and she’s gripping my shirt like she’s holding on for dear life. I can’t handle the way that she’s touching me. Foolish, I'm letting myself fall apart for some palms, but her tits graze my chest and I give myself this — any man would lose their mind at that.
“Fuck,” I hear her little voice cry out.
My hands were hovering just over touching her, but I freeze at
the sound. My gaze looks up to her. “Are you—“
“Is it always like this? When you’ve had sex with someone, do you always crave them so much?” Lucy asks.
God, the words are the death of me. How am I supposed to operate on a basic, functional level when she says things like that?
“Babe, it has never been like this before, not for me, and…” I don’t want to finish that sentence. I cup her face and draw her into a passionate kiss instead. I cannot bear the idea of drowning myself in thoughts when I could be deep inside her tight pussy, trapped between her thighs and letting her lay waste to me with her every breath.
Her lips close over mine and it's so sweet. Mine crush hers, but hers captivate me, soft as rose petals and sweet like a fine red wine. I can’t taste her enough. My arms pull her close to me, crushing her against me. My tongue slides over the seam of her lips and she opens for me. I’m desperate to taste her more. Her warm mouth open for me makes my tongue dance over hers, silk and sin tasting like the pain of reality could never touch us. She’s gasping for air and I break the kiss to bring my mouth to her jawline. Trail down her neck, buttons of kisses pressing sensations throughout her body. I feel the shivers she gets every time I touch her and I’m addicted to the way she inhales, a needy gasp for air before I pull her back under with the undeniable fire of my lust.
She’s mine. I shouldn’t think it. I didn’t want to be that guy. I figured I could help Lucy, and I really would let her go.
Instead, I can say the words, but neither one of us is ready to be free.
If I had any honor, I’d still push her away. But I’ve never pretended to be honorable. There’s no sense in starting now, because I don’t have the strength to let her free of my arms.
“Gian, I…” Lucy’s hands go behind her back and I realize she’s about to unhook her bra.
I growl. I would have said words but my hands claw to her back and snap off her bra instead, stealing my thoughts and my words.
