Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
He slips inside. Bliss hits me, mixed with a burning, stretching pain. I gasp then lean forward and bite down on his shoulder. He grunts in reply, but doesn’t stop. Slowly, gently, he fills me to the brim, until he’s entirely inside of me and I’m no longer the girl I was before. No longer a good Grady girl.
“All mine,” he whispers like it’s a prayer. Slowly, he starts to move. “Are you okay?”
“I’m good.” My eyes are squeezed closed. “Don’t stop.”
“I won’t.” He keeps going slow, but now he’s stroking into me, and I can feel a blossom of pleasure beginning to grow. His hands explore my body as he praises me more, his dirty words filtering into my brain, but I can barely understand them. All I know is my husband’s fucking me, a man I supposedly hate, and I’m giving myself to him willingly.
And it feels good.
He licks my nipples as he fucks me, and it feels so good I could scream. The pain’s still there, but the pleasure’s growing in the background, more and more as he goes faster, grinding into me.
“That’s my girl,” he whispers as his fingers tease my nipples. “You’re enjoying it now, aren’t you? Lovely fox, you’ll be sore afterward, but it’ll be easier the next time.”
“Are you sure?” I grind my hips against him and he reaches down to rub a thumb along my clit.
“I’m positive.”
I moan, back arching. He rubs and fucks me, and I’m tumbling into bliss. I can’t ignore the pain, but I can’t escape the pleasure, can’t escape this man, my husband, this stranger and bastard. He’s beautiful, sensual, he’s shockingly gentle and seems to care how I feel. I start to writhe against him, gasping, panting, begging him for more. He growls in response, fucking me faster, and we’re moving together as sweat beads between my breasts and he licks it away. “Fuck me, Jayson,” I moan. “Oh, god, fuck me until I’m a good girl.”
“That’s right,” he says, gasping, and we’re going together, faster, my clit grinding into him, and I can’t stop it anymore. I moan, coming, the orgasm slamming into my mind like the jolt of a gunshot. It fills me as he fucks me through it, his cock deep between my legs, his mouth on my nipples driving me deeper into bliss.
Then I’m finished and I’m gasping for air. He pulls back, rips the condom from his cock, and slams himself into me again. I moan, shocked as he takes me like a beast, and even though it hurts, I’m even wetter now than I was before. He goes deeper, deeper, and finally he comes between my legs, filling me with his warmth.
He collapses onto the bed with me in his arms. We say nothing for a little while. “So much for the condom,” I whisper.
He grunts in reply. “The what?”
“The condom. You ripped it off.” I turn to face him.
He seems confused. Then he climbs over me and finds it on the floor, flicking on a light. I squint against the brightness. “Ah, fuck,” he says softly.
I can barely make it out, the little smear of blood. He wraps it in a tissue and disposes of it.
“I guess I should’ve said something sooner.”
“You didn’t though.” He gets into bed again, breathing me in as he buries his face in my hair and pulls me tighter against him, turning me into the little spoon. His half-hard cock’s against my ass.
“Hard for me to think. I did just lose my virginity.”
“And I took it. You were such a good girl, my little fox.”
“I know.” I close my eyes, glowing under his praise, and only the smallest voice is telling me to stop enjoying this. The guilt’s distant, almost nonexistent. “Say that again.”
“Good girl.” He kisses my neck. “A very, very good girl.”
“Thank you.” I snuggle into him, not sure why this feels so nice, but willing to let myself enjoy it for a little while. It isn’t every day a girl gets her first time.
Chapter 24
Fallon
Sea breeze pulls my hair from the chunky clip. I gather it up again, but it’s no use; I end up letting it go wild. Down below, the sand looks like construction paper, and the ocean’s lapping at it with white spray. The sun’s barely up, but it’s a beautiful morning, chilly but glorious, only a smattering of puffy white clouds. I pull my robe tighter around me as the sliding door opens and Jayson steps outside.
“Good morning.” He brings me a cup of coffee. I accept it with a conflicted smile. He looks at me, and I think about kissing him—we did have sex the night before, after all—but that feels even more intimate than him coming between my legs.
“Morning. Sleep alright?”
“Slept great.” He leans against the railing in a pair of joggers and a black t-shirt. The cold doesn’t seem to bother him. We’re dozens of stories in the air, but he doesn’t bother looking down. “How about you?”