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He pulls out of me again, this time, pausing at the rim of my entrance. Then with a low growl, he thrusts forward, burying himself so deep inside me, his balls slap against my pussy. I cry out, more from the shock of feeling him in a place which feels impossible for him to access, than from any pain. I try to speak, but no words come out. All I can do is stay. Stay. And take everything he’s pumping into me.
His chest rises and falls against my back. His grip on my neck seems to tighten even more, then he licks my cheek up to my temple before kissing it. "I’m going to fuck you now."
That’s all the warning I get before he begins to fuck me in earnest. In-out-in. Each time he slams into me, my entire body moves forward. The headboard slams into the wall. Something crashes off to the side. Sweat beads my brow. My arms hurt with the effort of holding up my weight. My thigh muscles scream at this new position I’ve assumed for too long. Too much. How much more can I take? How much—oh, god! Pleasure spirals up my body, turning everything it touches into golden sparks. Flashes of lightning go off behind my eyes. I’m coming, coming.
"Wait for me." His voice anchors me, holds me, restrains me as he propels forward and into me one last time then, "Now. Come with me. Right-fucking-now."
That’s when I shatter. The orgasm seems to go on and on. I’m aware of someone screaming— Is that me? That doesn’t sound like me. That sounds like a woman who is at the very end of her pleasure-pain cycle, one who’s coming so violently she sounds more animal than human and— Oh, god it’s me. It’s me. Then the pleasure crashes over me, and I give in to the tidal wave of feeling.
* * *
Something cold is pressed between my legs. The sore feeling at my core abates somewhat. I sigh. Then I’m turned over onto my front, and a soothing touch pats across my butt-cheeks. There’s a slight stinging sensation, followed by relief. My muscles relax. Any remaining tension fades from my shoulders. My entire body feels like it’s turning into a gooey mess. I burrow into the bedclothes, push my cheek into the pillow, which smells like dark chocolate and coffee. So yummy. My stomach growls. I want to open my eyes, but my eyelids feel like they are weighted down. I pillow my head in the softness and float off.
What seems like a few seconds later, I’m being shaken awake. I open my eyes to find I’m still in bed, on my back. Those aquamarine blue eyes hold mine. His hair is mussed, and a day's old growth shadows his chin. I reach up and drag my palm against his whiskers. The chafe of his stubble against my skin sends a sizzle of heat straight to my core. I trail my fingers up to the lightning shaped scar over his forehead.
The skin around his eyes tightens, but he doesn’t pull away.
"You’re gorgeous," I say softly.
His lips quirk. "You’re still high on endorphins."
"Is that from the fucking?"
His brow draws down. "You need to be disciplined."
"Are you offering?"
He shakes his head. "I truly have created a monster."
"Are you going to fuck me again?"
"Are we going to talk about what happened first?"
I scowl. "Do we have to?"
He searches my features. "I took your virginity, Solene."
"Good. It was an inconvenience, and now I’m glad I don’t have to worry about it anymore. Also—" I rush to get the words out before he speaks, "Also, I wanted you to have it."
His eyes flash. "I’m your first, Solene. Do you know how that makes me feel?"
I swallow. "H-how?"
"It makes me want to tie you to this bed and not let you leave until I’ve fucked you over and over again. Until I’ve lost myself in you and imprinted the shape of my dick in between your legs, so with every step you take you remember me."
"Hmm." I fold my arms behind my neck. "What’s stopping you?"
He seems taken aback by my question, then a smirk curls his lips. "You’re a brat."
"And you like that."
He pauses, then nods slowly. "More than I expected." He says the words under his breath. It feels like he’s talking aloud to himself. "I suspected you were a virgin, considering you were going into an arranged marriage. But the way you acted was at such odds with what your character should have been, I couldn’t be sure."
I smile a little. "You liberated me, Declan. You took me out of there, and it’s giving me a chance to be myself again. I can’t even begin to explain how free I feel now that I’m here." I glance around his massive bedroom, then back at him. "And I don’t mean the money and the private jet and this amazing house and pool, although"—I waggle my eyebrows—"all that helps, too."
"Definitely a brat." He snatches his shirt from the floor and hands it over. I shrug it on, then watch as he prowls over to his closet. He reappears a moment later, a pair of grey sweats in his hand. His chest is bare, the dents between his twelve-pack making me want to run my fingers over them to feel the steel under his gleaming skin. His biceps are thick enough to rival the size of my thighs, not that I’m skinny.
I am, by no means, curvy, but I also like my food and have never stopped myself from eating, so I’m definitely on the healthier side. But compared to this man, I'm half his size. His thigh muscles ripple and oh…
