The Virgin Society Collection

7. Treasure Map

7

TREASURE MAP

Layla

Part of me wants to tell Nick I’ve never had sex. It’s like giving a treasure hunter a map. The intel will help him along the way.

But another part of me—the stubborn, independent, private me—wants to keep my virginity to myself.

I don’t need a man’s permission to lose it. Nick already wants to fuck me, so why do I need to tell him he’d be the first to do so? It’s my choice.

I weigh the matter for a few seconds as he licks me, until my brain scrambles. And holy hell, my body feels so good I can’t think straight.

Or at all.

Because Nick’s face is buried between my thighs, and he’s eating me like he’s licking a decadent dessert off a spoon. I feel like his treat as he flicks his tongue down, then tantalizingly back up. Circling a hand around my ankle, he lifts my right leg, drapes it over his shoulder.

He does the same to my left leg, then presses a gentle but firm hand to my belly. “Lie back, beautiful,” he says.

I do, but I stop at my elbows, since I’m a visual person, and this image will be scored into my brain forever—Nick, scooping his hands under my ass then tugging me closer to his mouth.

But before he returns to his feast, he rubs his jawline against my inner thigh. One side, then the other.

I moan, shamelessly loud, a sound I’ve never quite made from a vibrator. But I never knew I’d like the roughness of a beard. Never knew I’d want his scruff so much. Or maybe it’s how Nick wields his beard like a secret weapon till I’m arching, gasping his name.

“I’ve got you,” he reassures me, his voice a dirty caress, then his mouth is on me again, kissing and licking.

Tingles spread everywhere.

Soon, I’m parting my legs wider, rocking against his face, gripping his head harder. “Oh god, oh god,” I chant with every stroke of his magic tongue.

I feel everything, everywhere, all at once, then the pleasure coils tight and hot in my belly. “I’m coming,” I call out, and he kisses me voraciously through an orgasm that rattles my body and my mind.

That makes me feel like I’m flying.

I’m shaking, barely aware of what’s happening, but soon, I’m looking up at him. He’s above me, braced on his palms, his lips ludicrously wet, his hazel eyes dark with desire. “You are outrageously sexy, and I want to make you come a million times,” he says in a rough, husky voice.

Who is this man who’s already obsessed with my pleasure? I want to come all night long with him.

“I’m in,” I say, and there’s my answer to my dilemma.

Maybe it’s the orgasm drug. Or maybe it’s the way he stares at me with naked desire, but whatever it is, I’m unlocked. I don’t need him to know I’m a virgin for his permission. I want him to know so he can make sex better… for me .

And for us.

So I play with him again, like I did earlier today. “How did you picture it?” I ask. When his eyes flicker with question marks, I keep going. “ Fucking me . When you were onstage, how did you think about fucking me?”

He sits up, kneeling between my still-spread thighs. He reaches for the top button of his shirt, undoes it. “Many ways. But mostly I kept thinking how beautiful you’d look riding my cock.”

Yes, please.

“I want that,” I say, sitting up too, undoing another button for him, then nudging closer to opening the treasure map. “But can you go easy on me at first?”

He lifts a brow in question but nods emphatically. “Of course.”

He’d better not run away, but if he does, he was never the right man. “I’ve never come through sex either,” I say. Then, since he likes when I flirt, I whisper against his lips. “But I bet you can make me come for the first time.” I pause for dramatic effect, letting the words take shape and weigh on my tongue before I add, “And for my first time.”

The map is open before him.

He stills. For several long seconds that make me tense. Then he pulls back, regards me curiously. “Are you sure, Lola?”

What a relief. I’d half expected him to run for the hills. “Yes.”

Nick gestures from me to him. “You know what this is?”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t worry—I won’t be hopping on a transatlantic flight to surprise you at your flat in Knightsbridge next week.”

He laughs, like touché . “I just want to make sure you don’t have any other expectations…since the ocean is really big.”

He says it like the body of water is the only thing between us. Not our jobs, not our goals.

But I focus on the moment. “I have a few big expectations,” I say, with a coquettish bob of my shoulder. “I expect an orgasm from you. Maybe work on giving me one with your dick?”

He growls. Then in a flash, he gets off the bed, lifts me up, and tosses me over his shoulder. “More than one, beautiful,” he says, smacking my ass as he carries me across the suite to the living room area, then sets me down on the couch.

When he undoes another button on his shirt, I’m giddy with excitement. I’m about to get a show. The sexiest man I’ve ever met is stripping naked for me.

He tosses a careless glance at my clothes. “Take off your dress. Want to see those beautiful tits.”

His filthy mouth is fire.

I pull my dress over my head as he removes his shirt.

His pecs are covered in a smattering of golden-brown chest hair that trails down the ladder of his abs, a happy trail guiding me to his dick.

“Take off the bra, Lola,” he demands next, and I comply.

He hisses when my breasts are revealed.

Then, I make a twirling gesture with my finger. “Your turn.”

He just smiles, like he can’t believe the briefly shy girl is now a hungry woman again. And I am ravenous. I can’t wait to see all of him. To watch this powerful businessman who commanded the crowds today take a risk with me.

He reaches into his pocket, snags a condom from the wallet, then tosses it on the couch next to me.

He makes quick work of his pants.

The clip of my heart increases. He’s so turned on there’s a wet spot on his boxer briefs.

For me.

He strips out of his briefs, and my lips part. His cock is thick, hard, and pointing right at me.

He comes around to sit on the couch, beckons me closer. “On my lap. You’re going to ride me like this. Up close, so I can have my hands all over you as we fuck.”

With a get-on-me smack of my ass, he sets the mood once more. I climb over him, straddling his muscular thighs as I gaze down at the handsome man under me, cataloging his features. His sun-kissed skin, his strong arms, his carved muscles.

My hands visit him all over, traveling closer and closer to his cock.

He’s patient, letting me explore his body as he moans and breathes out hard. But I’m done. I want to feel . I reach for the condom and give it to him as anticipation slides down my spine. He rolls on the protection, then offers me his dick.

I rise up, finding just the right position. For a brief second, the reality of what I’m doing hits me.

I’m going to have sex for the first time.

And I’m ready. I’ve never wanted anyone else like this. Never felt this ache between my thighs so intensely, this tingling in my nipples so acutely. “I want you,” I say.

“Then have me,” he urges, holding his dick for me. Like he’s handed me a baton in a sex relay, I take over, thrilling at the feel of his shaft in my hand.

I rub him against my wetness. I find just the right position, and I guide him inside. A half inch maybe. Then another.

And wow. That’s…a lot.

I tense at the intrusion.

He runs a hand gently down the outside of my thigh. “Breathe, beautiful,” he says in a tender tone.

I breathe in, out.

Once I relax, I lower myself more.

Wriggling. Adjusting. Breathing.

“You good?” he asks.

Mostly . “I think so.”

He’s stretching me. I feel full and he’s not even all the way in.

“Take all the time you want. We can stop anytime,” he says, like he’s a first times sex guide I ordered on the Internet— I’ll have one night with a sexy, caring, older man who can go all alpha on me in bed and then take care of me out of bed too. Ideally, he’ll be dirty and tender.

His big hands curl around my hips, but he doesn’t grip tight. He just waits patiently.

I inhale, then I sink down all the way.

It’s intense. I feel him everywhere. He’s nothing like a vibrator. This is worlds better, especially since he seems so enrapt, gazing at me with hooded eyes and a tight jaw.

The way he stares washes the last remnants of discomfort away.

I let a smile take over my face as I rise up, then sink down.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” he grits out, and his hands glide up my back into my hair, his fingers roping through my strands possessively.

“Was this how you pictured me?” I ask, wrapping my hands around his neck, my breasts grazing his pecs.

“Yes,” he says, his eyes traveling all over me, freely gazing at my face, my tits, my stomach, my legs.

And where we connect.

“Look at you. You look so perfect on my cock,” he adds.

And I feel…perfect too.

Nick lets go of my hair, gripping my hips. Like that, he guides me along, helping me find just the right angle, just the right pace.

Soon, we hit a rhythm.

He pumps up into me, and I grind down on him. I’d expected it to hurt, but I’m so aroused, so ridiculously wet, that I just feel stretched in the best of ways. It’s deep and delicious all at once as I ride this stranger’s cock into the night. But Nick hardly feels like a stranger. He’s my perfect lover.

He gets a hand between us, and he’s stroking my clit now, rubbing me intently.

My toes tingle. My pulse surges. And I ache.

Then I gasp as an orgasm wrecks me, so powerfully that I spin out. Or maybe the world does. Or my orgasm is my world. I don’t even know anymore. I just feel…wild.

And beautiful.

I fall into bliss on him, crying out as this release washes over me for several seconds, maybe minutes—I don’t even know.

When I open my eyes again, still moaning from the aftershocks, he’s thrusting up into me, punching his hips.

Till he tenses, then groans a long, dirty sound as he comes too.

I collapse against his big chest, wrapping my arms around him and basking in the glow. He runs a hand down my back, soothing and reassuring.

I want more of him tonight. I want to feel these arms, these hands, his strength.

I’m still bathing in endorphins, but through the fog, a worry digs into my brain. Is this it? Do I leave now? We said no expectations, so perhaps the night is over.

When his sweet murmurs cease, he says softly, “Let me get rid of this condom.”

That’s…it?

Of course that’s it. You said no strings.

And really, what was he going to say? “You’re amazing, Lola, and, please, do surprise me at my flat sometime.”

Please .

I don’t want to wear out my welcome, especially since I’ve been so adamant about my own boundaries. I ease off him, but I don’t watch as he heads to the bathroom.

I shut down, turning off whatever temporary wishes I had to stay a little longer. Quickly, I gather my clothes, hooking on my bra then tugging on my dress.

A minute later, his footsteps sound, and he pads across the floor, then stops. “Lola.”

It’s so stern.

I turn around.

His eyes are narrowed. Then he shakes his head, tsking me as he closes the distance between us and cups my cheeks. “Take off your dress. Get in bed. I’m not at all done with you.”

I throw a parade as I strip, then race to the bed.