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I lift my hand, notice the stain on my fingers.A virgin? Of course, she’s a virgin. She was told she was going to have an arranged marriage.Most likely, she was instructed to keep herself unsullied. And I sensed it. My subconscious sensed it, but I was too caught up in my own ghosts to acknowledge it. I thought I felt some resistance when I took her but put it down to my size. And she didn’t tell me.Why didn’t she tell me? Maybe, because you had your cock down her throat, you bastard.I hold her limp body close, manage to pull up my briefs and pants and zip up, then scoop up her limp body and walk over to the bath.
I lower her to her feet, balance her, and run a bath. When it’s half-full, I shut off the water, divest her of her bra, then lower her into the tub. I keep her upper body upright and run a washcloth over her face, her breasts, down between her legs. My still hard cock strains against my pants. My balls are so hard, they weigh a ton. I acknowledge the need, the blinding desire that still runs through my veins, and watch it as it infiltrates every pore of my body. I’m good at punishing myself. It's the one thing I learned in my days as a priest that's stuck with me, and I’ve become an expert over the years. Practice makes perfect, after all. When I raise my gaze to her face, I find her eyes are open.
"You didn’t come."
I tilt my head and continue with my ministrations, trying to keep my actions as clinical as possible—like that’s possible with her? Especially not with the massive column between my thighs, and my balls, which are as hard as the iron I pump in the gym. I finish up, throw the cloth aside, then reach down and lift the plunger. The water begins to drain. I rise to my feet and hold out my hand. She grips it and I pull her up, then grab a towel and drape it about her shoulders. I wipe her down quickly, trying not to glance at the column of her neck, or her plump breasts, the dip of her waist, the curve of her belly, and the alluring mound below. I wrap the towel around her, then lift her in my arms.
"I can walk," she protests.
I carry her to my bedroom, lower her to her feet, and pull back the covers. "Get in."
"This is your room," she points out.
When I don’t reply, she firms her lips. "I thought you said you didn’t want us to share a bed."
"We’re not going to share a bed."
"But—"
"Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?"
She glances away. "I…thought you knew."
I rub the back of my neck. "If I had been thinking straight, I might have guessed and gone slowly." I shake my head. "Get in the bed, Belle."
"First, tell me why you didn’t come."
I blink. The mouth on her. The very sexy, hot hole that was my undoing. That is, until I was ensconced in her pussy. This woman isn’t afraid to go toe-to-toe with me. Unlike my employees. It’s refreshing and invigorating and—I will not think about how much I want her right now. I reach over and tug on the towel so it slides off of her.
"Oh!" Her cheeks turn pink. A flush creeps up her chest. Her embarrassment fuels the lust in my veins. My cock throbs, a burning sensation extending out from my groin. She glances down at my crotch and swallows. "You’re still hard."
"And you’re not yet in bed."
She scowls, then slides in under the cover. I pull it up until she’s covered all the way to her neck, then sit down next to her on the bed. "Are you sore?"
Her flush deepens. "A little."
"I wish I’d known this was your first time. If I had—"
"You wouldn’t have made love to me?"
"I wouldn’t have fucked you," I agree.
Her face falls, and a hot sensation stabs at my chest. I’m too attuned to her. Too sensitive to her needs. Too responsive to her change in emotions. She glances away, and when she looks back at me, her gaze is haunted. "Is it fucking if you didn’t come in me?"
I shrug.
"The only reason you made lo—penetrated me is because you needed to consummate the marriage."
I incline my head.
"And you married me because you want G-Pa to confirm your position as the CEO."
"You knew this already, Belle," I murmur.
She bites the inside of her cheek. "Knowing it and living it are two very different things."
"Are you having second thoughts?"
