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This almost feels… right.
He stands up straight, then begins to take his clothes off. I watch him wordlessly, mainly because no words would come out if I even tried. I open my mouth and snap it closed as soon as his shirt slides down his arms.
He’s tattooed. Heavily. Everywhere. But what stands out to me are two in particular. One that saysA Life for a Lifeacross his chest, and when he turns to strip his pants off, there isA Promise is a Promisescrawled across his shoulders.
I want to ask him what the hell it means, but I decide against it. I don’t know him, and after tonight, I’ll never see him again. This is just one night that will hopefully lead to a lifetime of happiness, or at the least, a lifetime of peace, because I don’t want to be forced into a marriage to some monster.
Instead of waiting for him to give me instructions, I decide once I’ve ogled his tattoos that it’s time for me to undress as well. Stripping off my dress, I toss it to the floor, then kick off my shoes, sitting on the edge of the strange bed as I watch him.
He tilts his head to the side, his eyes focused on mine and nowhere else. I don’t know why, but I expect him to look everywhere but my eyes. This man isn’t doing that, though. His gaze is focused—intently.
Then, as if he’s won some sort of internal struggle, he jerks his chin once as he moves closer toward me. “Spread,” he demands, his voice deep, dark, raspy, and sexy as sin.
He is sin.
Every single part of him is darker than it was moments ago, and I want more.
Spreading my legs, I try to keep them from trembling, but I fail. I’m nervous and scared but beyond that… I’m excited. I want this. I wasn’t sure when I walked into this club if I was going to go through with it, but now I can’t wait. I want him to touch me, to kiss me. I want him inside of me right this minute.
He climbs between my legs. I can feel his length press against my center, and I want more. He doesn’t push himself inside of me yet, though. Instead, he wraps one hand around the side of my throat and the other he places on the bed next to my ear, his arm straight as he holds himself off my body.
“You’re sure this is what you want?” he asks.
I don’t even have to think about it, and instead of verbally answering him, I lift my hips, and at the same time, I wrap my fingers around the back of his neck and apply pressure to bring his face closer to mine. He obliges me, my lips touching his before I speak.
“Please,” I rasp.
It’s all he needs. Without even waiting a breath, he pushes himself inside of me. It’s not a swift thrust as I expect. He slowly sinks himself deep into me, then stops. My body feels like it’s going to be ripped apart, and there is burning, but I don’t think he’s actually broken my hymen.
I open my mouth to ask him, but he doesn’t let me speak. Instead, he lowers his head, his lips touch mine, and then he slips his tongue inside of me, tasting me in one slow swirl before he lifts his head slightly, his forehead resting against mine, and buries himself deep inside of me.
I cry out, and tears instantly fill my eyes and roll down the sides of my face when I pinch my eyes shut. My tears drip onto the mattress. It doesn’t matter. The deed is done. Hopefully, the pain is also done now.
“Look at me,” he demands.
Opening my eyes, I look up at him. He watches me intently, and then he begins to move. The hand at my throat slips between my legs, and he touches my clit. I gasp as he moves, his hips rolling, thrusting over and over.
His eyes focus on mine. They don’t waver or move the entire time he’s inside of me. His fingers move between my legs, and the pain ebbs and turns into pleasure right before he stills and I feel warmth fill me. He growls, his mouth slamming against mine, and I hold my breath for a moment.
The deed is complete.
I am no longer a virgin and no longer desirable to this stranger who wants to marry me for my hymen. I feel a sense of sadness but mostly a sense of relief. I took control of this situation—me, nobody else.
I have the power, and I’m in control of my future.
Just. Me.
COLEMAN
I don’t hold her.I don’t wrap my arms around her and pull her against my body. Though I’m not really a man who would do that anyway, with her, I want to. Dressing, I watch her for a moment out of the corner of my eye. There’s blood on the mattress where I left her innocence. That shouldn’t make me smile, but it does.
“Do I get your name?” she asks softly.
Shifting my attention to her, I give her a smile. “Not today,” I murmur.
“I’m not sure if I should say thank you or what I should do,” she exhales.
My lips are still twitched into a smile, and I close the distance between us. She’s standing beside the bed, dressed back in her clothes, her eyes wide as she looks up at me. This woman is going to be my wife in just a few short weeks. I think I could really fall for her.
