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My dick grows heavy.
I shift.
She blurts, “We can’t do—what we did last night—again.”
Silence. I meet her with silence.
All I can do is study her, because at those words, something rears in my chest, ready for battle. If she thinks I’m walking away, respecting boundaries and playing the part of the nice guy after last night—after I stood staring at the blood of her innocence on my fingers—she’s delusional.
Bat shit crazy.
She doesn’t know it, and maybe I didn’t before this moment, but fate etched our future in stone last night when I stared down at the blood of her innocence on my hand. This girl with her kitten eyes and soft mouth and made-for-sin body, is mine.
Maybe she doesn’t know it now, but she won’t be confused for long.
I’m under no delusions of grandeur, thinking I possess the qualities that would make me a good man. I’m too selfish, too determined. Too cold and calculated. Too focused. I’ll bulldoze and burn a path of destruction and chaos to my desires, and right now, she’s the focus of all of them. I want to explore her and possess her. I want todevour that innocence she gave me a taste of last night.
I want her to yearn for me, and me alone.
I’m the kind of man who sees what he wants and takes it. I’m the kind of man that consumes.
Right now, I want to consume her. I want to absorb her heart so all it knows is mine. The thought is jarring, because I’ve never been the man to crave such lunacies. Still, I’ll gladly go mad to possess more of what I had last night.
When I don’t respond, she adds, “We need boundaries. This thing between us is—” she stutters and decides on, “Transactional.”
I almost laugh. As it is, I can’t help my smirk. “Right, Kitten. Whatever you say.”
She blows out an unsteady breath of relief, gives me a professional nod, and walks her sweet ass back to her room. At the click of her door, I do laugh. Hard.
This is going to be fun.
ten
Wrenlee
Can one lose her virginity by being fingered?Googlesays not technically. The hymen can be broken by fingers, yes, among a myriad of other things like tampons and even bike riding (who knew) but the woman remains a virgin until sex.
I’m relieved, even though I feel oddly sad to have crossed that line with Cash. I can admit I’m not the usual. Virginity really isn’t that big a deal in the twenty-first century where sex is given freely and often. But for some reason, I’m clinging to mine. Okay, I’m not clinging to it. It’s not this thing I’m possessive of—but I’ve always wanted to give it to the man who would be my husband. It’s an antiquated desire in no way bornfrom religious recommendation. It’s just my want for myself, to learn only one man in such an intimate way.
I feel as though I’ve betrayed myself by letting things spiral so out of control with Cash.
I’d been freaked when I’d come down from my very first orgasm. It had shaken me down to my very core.
When I’d cleaned myself up to find a muted stain of red on the tissue, I’d lost it.
I still feel the sharp sting of regret, knowing I gave something to a man who doesn’t care about me at all. For him, none of this is real. He won’t remember taking that from me—claiming it for himself. But I will.
Hell, I don’t even think he knows what I gave him. What he claimed.
The morning after, he’d looked at me like he always looked at me.
It’s Thursday now. We’ve gone through the week like roommates, hardly talking. With class, he’s busy and so am I.
I’d been surprised to find Cash was taking courses at the same university, studying business. Unlike me, who still has another few years of studying, Cash will be finished this year. We’ve had nothing but polite, roomy, friendly conversations since the awkward morning after.
I keep waiting for him to end this insanity and kick me out. My nerves buzz on constant high alert, and I’m exhausted. On top of taking more bills and attending class, I worked Monday, Wednesday, and am currently on the clock. This city never sleeps. It’s currently eleven o’clock, and I’ve got another three hours to go before I can clock out. I won’t fall into bed until just after three in the morning and I’ll be up again by six.
I’m going to die.
