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Even though I expected the act of losing my virginity to be painful and slow, I’m obsessed with the way it feels. I want more of him, I want to be overwhelmed if it means I get to feel him go deeper.
He grabs the back of my head, wrapping my hair around his hand and pulling my head back. “You’re a fucking bitch who doesn’t know what’s good for you, and I’m about to fucking show you.”
Instead of fucking me harder or faster, he leans down until he’s practically lying on top of me. He grabs my legs and places my knees on his shoulders, and for a moment I’m worried that he’s going to break me in half somehow.
But when he presses himself even deeper into me, I feel my whole vagina begin to contract again. I can tell that he’s getting close as well.
He’ll thrust for a bit, holding me down to keep me from falling off the couch before he slows down again. He’s trying to make it last as long as possible, even though he would be killed if we got caught. Does that mean he really wants me? Or is he just that horny?
“Goddamn it,” he whispers with frustration right before he begins to pound me harder than he ever had before.
I’m moaning out loud now, and he puts his hand over my mouth as I scream for him. Every time his cock hits the back of my pussy, I can’t help but moan as discomfort and pleasure mingle in my overdriven nervous system.
His eyes close, and his body becomes rigid as his dick pumps his seed into me. He’s almost holding me now, and I’m able to pretend for a moment that the entwining of our bodies held more meaning than the release of pure, animalistic lust.
I can feel his heart pounding in his chest as it beats against mine. His breathing is deep and labored, and the smell of sweat lingers between us. I’m intoxicated by the smell of him, but I’d never tell him that.
Just as he’s about to pull himself out of me, we hear a car pull into the attached garage on the other side of the house. It sounds like it could be my father’s car, but at this rate, it doesn’t matter. We need to get out now.
I rush over to the corner of the room where Dominik tossed my panties, grabbing them and using them to clean myself up as his semen runs down my leg. I’m horrified that I could get caught like this, but the thrill of the danger is just as exciting as the act itself.
When I feel like I’m adequately cleaned, I ball up my panties in my fist and run straight for the stairs leading up to my bedroom. I need to be as far away from the living room as possible right now.
11
MIKA
I’ve been dreading this night for weeks now. It’s the day of my father’s event, and he insists that I attend even though I won’t know a single person there other than him and Dominik. He’ll be busy talking shit with all of his business partners, so that leaves me and Dominik. How are we going to keep our hands off each other if we’re in a place where we can’t be alone?
My father has made sure that I’m as uninvolved with his business deals as possible, at least for my entire life up to this point. I’m not sure if he expects me to take over for him or if he resents me for not being a son. Either way, I’m not prepared to take over for him any time soon.
Despite this, I’m forced to go.
I can’t stand how pretentious these events are. They’re full of people who have more money than most people will make in their lifetimes. They spend their weekends kissing ass in order to siphon more money from other rich people who wouldn’t care if they dropped dead right in front of them.
In my father’s case, almost everything that takes place is illegal, anyway. The chances of getting fucked over are high, yet everyone plays the game like they have nothing to lose.
I pull my dress out of the zipped bag hanging at the back of my closet. Despite how beautiful it made me feel when I tried it on, I’m convinced that most of my euphoria was a result of the sexually charged energy between Dominik and me. I rode that wave for days, reliving the moment he whispered to me. I would have given anything to feel his lips on my neck.
Reluctantly, I shimmy into the dress with as much care as possible to avoid ripping any of the expertly placed stitches. This dress was made for me by someone who will be attending the event, and if one fiber is out of place, she’ll cause a scene. I’ve seen it happen before.
Stepping down the stairs in my shoes feels unnatural and dangerous, but Dominik is standing at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for me. I feel safer knowing he could catch me, but when I reach my hand out to him, he doesn’t reciprocate.
It’s weird, but not out of character for him.
I would have thought that having sex with me would have created more of a bond between him and me, but he doesn’t seem to feel it at all. My stomach drops at the thought of beingusedby someone, especially him. I allowed myself to put my guard down for him, to be vulnerable with him like I’ve never been before. Does that mean nothing to him?
“Hi,” I say sheepishly as I lose my footing for a split second.
He doesn’t respond, and I’m starting to wonder if he’s trying to play some kind of stupid mind game with me. I know guys will do that sometimes, ignoring you on purpose until you’re conditioned to worship him for the slightest bit of attention. It feels pathetic to think that he would do that to me, but how would I know the difference?
The car ride to the event is quiet, so quiet that I can almost hear my heart beating in my ears. I try to move my hand over to Dominik’s as he sits beside me, but he removes it from in between us without giving me so much as a casual glance.
A lightning bolt of dread runs through me. Did I make a huge mistake when I let him fuck me? Is he going to taunt me with brief, fleeting windows of sweetness and affection while I scrape the bottom of the barrel for more? I could never let that happen, but I doubt anyone else lets it happen either. It’s a slow process, starting with an attachment that I undeniably feel.
We arrive at an unknown speakeasy where my father frequently does business. I try to walk close to Dominik, but he makes an effort to stay away from me whenever I come within three feet of him. He’s going to be by my side for the whole event. That’s his job. How is he going to avoid me then?
The room is in the basement of a bookstore that the various families use to launder money. It’s the perfect coverup since nobody would ever assume a bookstore could be a front, and ever since they moved their business to this location, they haven’t had a single issue with the feds tracking them down.
