Chapter 14 #3
“Easy, amore mio,” he purrs, when I instinctively tense against the painful intrusion.
“Hurts,” I gasp.
“It’ll feel better once I’m all the way inside of you. I don’t want to hurt you, but I need to be inside of you, Verity. You’ll take me, won’t you? You need to take me. Tell me you need it,” he growls, low and gravelly and desperate.
“I need it,” I say, barely finishing the word before he slams forward, sinking his thick, hard cock into me and splitting me in two.
Burning, awful pain blisters to life, and I clench my eyes shut, hiding from my own stupidity at letting him do this to me.
“Shh, shh,” he coos, with his massive dick still impaled inside of me. “It’s over, amore mio. Just breathe, and the pain will fade,” he promises.
“No, it won’t. Oh god, this is awful. Why do women like this?” I gasp, tears prickling at the backs of my eyes.
“Only the first time hurts, but I’ll make it better. I’ll make you feel so fucking good that you’ll want to be full of my cock all the time,” he promises.
“No,” I hiss. “I never want to do this again.”
His soft chuckle has me snapping my eyes open. “I’ll remind you that you said that when you’re begging me to fill you because you’re so empty and needy.”
I open my mouth to renounce his mocking words, but his thumb finds my clit, and everything fades to a conflicting sensation of pain and unexpected pleasure.
With his cock still stretching me so wide I swear my sex might actually be ripping apart, he rubs and taps and does things to my clit that make my eyesight go dark, and my body become both rigid and boneless all at the same time.
When I orgasm, a gush of heat leaks from my burning sex, and even though being impaled by his cock still hurts, my body is begging for something. I need more.
“Fuck, there it is. Relax, amore mio. Jesus,” Warrick purrs, slowly and carefully inching out, then pushing back in again.
The burn is bright but nagging, and even though it hurts, I want him to do it again.
Rolling his hips, he retreats, then surges forward, rocking into my body until my muscles relax and more liquid heat drips from my core.
“Yes, fuck, you’re so wet,” he growls, his rocking increasing in speed and force as he fucks me in steady thrusts, the sounds of our bodies coming together, wet and oddly erotic.
I’m not sure when the pain fades and is replaced by something that could almost be pleasure, but when he finds my clit with his thumb again, my winces become moans.
Matching the rhythm of his fingers on my clit, with the thrusts of his dick into my body, I cling to his shoulders as he fucks me, pushing me into my third orgasm of the morning.
“Oh god,” I whine, my back arching off the mattress again, as his hips stutter, then rock fast and deep before his jaw tenses, and he snarls a low, rough sound that makes my toes curl and my entire body clench and tighten in response.
“You’re mine now, amore mio. All mine.” His lips spread into a wide smile, and I smile back.
Instead of pulling his dick out of me, he rolls us so his back is against the mattress and I’m sprawled on top of him.
“Warrick,” I gasp, when he palms my ass with one of his huge hands.
“Fuck, I missed you so much. This is how I want to spend the next four days.”
“In bed?”
“I don’t give a fuck where we are as long as my dick is inside of you.” He laughs. “Are you on any birth control?”
“No,” I admit.
“Then we should go see a doctor, unless you’re ready to start having babies. I’d like to keep you to myself for a while first, but I don’t mind if you’re ready to jump on the baby train.”
“Baby train,” I repeat, horrified. “No, definitely not.”
“Fine by me. But right now your cunt is swimming with my cum, so we’ll have to go and get you a plan B at some point.”
“Oh god,” I rasp, suddenly horrified by my own stupidity. “We didn’t use protection.”
“I’m clean, amore mio. I’d never put you at risk. I haven’t had sex in a long while, and I get tested regularly for work. My results are on my email, I can show you if you want.”
“But a baby.”
His shrug is infuriatingly blasé.
“I need to move,” I pant, pushing out of his hold and off his dick. When I glance down, my eyes go wide at the red bloodstains coating his dick and the inside of his thighs. Examining myself, I’m equally marked, the proof of my virginity undeniable across both of our bodies.
“All mine,” he says again, proudly. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Gracefully slipping off the bed, he holds a hand out to me. Shell-shocked and clearly already conditioned, I place my fingers in his and let him lead me into the bathroom.
“Let’s take a bath,” he says, reaching over the tub to turn on the faucet.
The sound of rushing water fills the room as he opens a cabinet and retrieves a washcloth.
Putting it under the stream of water, he squeezes out the excess, then drops to his knees and carefully starts to clean the blood and cum from my sore sex and thighs, wiping away the proof of what we’ve just done.
“Warrick,” I say shakily.
“Yes, amore mio.”
I open my lips, then close them again. I don’t know what I planned to say.
We had sex. It hurt, but it felt good too, and now I could be pregnant.
I can’t have a baby. I don’t have a home or a job or any money.
I can’t have a baby, but I wasn’t thinking about that when I told him I needed him.
I wasn’t thinking about anything but how exciting it was to be sexually aroused and how much I wanted to orgasm again.
Is that how my dad felt when he was gambling our money away and borrowing more from people he knew would hurt us to get it back?
My dad had an addictive personality, but I’ve never been anything like him.
Until now. Now I wonder if I could become addicted to sex and the rush of the sensations that made me feel light and free and so freaking happy.
“You’re thinking very loudly, amore mio,” Warrick says, parting my folds and running the warm cloth over my sensitized clit.
“Sorry.”
“I’ve already told you how I feel about your apologies,” he chides. “What are you thinking about?”
“About turning into my dad,” I say honestly.
His expression shows his shock at my answer. “Do you want to tell me about him?”
“He wasn’t a good dad, or a good person.”
“So why would you think you’re turning into him?” he asks curiously.
“He had an addictive personality. He did things just because he wanted to, without thinking about the consequences.”
“You’re worried about getting pregnant,” Warrick surmises.
“I’m worried that we did…what we just did, and I never even thought about protection or making sure that I didn’t end up with a baby.”
“But that’s as much my responsibility as it is yours. Are you mad at me too? Do you think I’m like your dad?”
“Why didn’t you use a condom?” I question him.
“Because I wanted to be inside of you bare. Because I wanted to fill your virgin cunt with my cum. Because if claiming you results in a baby, then I wouldn’t be upset; especially if it’s something that you want.”
“We don’t know anything about each other, and you’d be okay about having a baby with me?” I gasp.
“Yes,” he says, like it’s the easiest answer in the world.
“That’s insane.”
Shrugging, he pulls the cloth from between my legs, roughly wipes the blood from himself with it, then throws it toward the hamper in the corner of the room. Still on his knees, he shuffles closer to me, reaching out and parting the folds of my sex with his fingers.
“How sore are you?” he asks, staring at me, like my body is the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.
“I don’t know,” I admit. My sex is pulsing and burning, but kind of aching all at the same time.
“That’s okay, I have two more firsts to claim, I can give your cunt some time to recover.”
“What?” I say, feeling my eyes widen.
“I was hoping to claim all of you today, but I think I need to take my time. We have four days before I have to be back at work, and I plan to have taken every one of your firsts by the time I have to leave you again.”
My brain turns to staticky fuzz as I stupidly try to figure out which other firsts he’s talking about. It takes me longer than it should for me to work it out.
“You want to…” I let my sentence trail off.
“Fuck that sexy mouth and your perfect little ass,” he finishes for me. “Yeah, amore mio. I plan to take both of those firsts.”
“I…” My brain empties, because while I understand the one, the other has never even been on my radar. I’m not an idiot, I heard the women at the club talking about…that…but when you have zero interest in normal sex, the idea of letting anyone…there…isn’t something I’ve ever really thought about.
“Let’s get clean,” Warrick says, lifting me off my feet and lowering me into the tub of warm water. “I put some Epsom salts in, that should help with the soreness.”
His thoughtfulness is distracting. How has he gone from telling me he plans to fuck my ass to wanting to soothe my aches in a matter of moments? Climbing into the tub behind me, Warrick drags me back and into his lap, gently teasing my nipples while we soak in the warm water.
Without asking, he fills his hands with soap and lathers me from my neck to my toes. Then he washes my hair, caring for me without making it sexual, even though I can feel his hard dick pressing against my butt.
Lifting me out of the tub, he dries me with a towel, then dresses me in one of his shirts. Pulling on a pair of shorts that cling to the outline of his hard erection, he offers me his hand and then leads me downstairs.
“Go sit, I’ll make breakfast,” he says, gesturing for me to take a seat on the couch while he heads for the kitchen.
“I can—” I start to offer.
“You can sit and relax,” he says, arching an eyebrow at me, until I carefully lower myself onto the couch.
My thoughts silently spiral until he calls me to take a seat beside him at the small dining table. “You haven’t been eating enough,” he chides gently. “I’ll meal prep for you before I go back to work. That way everything will already be cooked, you’ll just have to warm it up in the oven.”
“I don’t need you to do that, I can take care of myself,” I protest, but I sound weak even to my own ears. Given the circumstances he found me in, it’s clear that I cannot in fact take care of myself, and he knows that.
Shame heats my cheeks, and I fork the fluffy eggs and bacon he made for us into my mouth without saying another word.
“I signed us up for a hockey channel subscription, so you can watch all the hockey you want. They stream the live games, but you can also watch everything on demand, in case you’re taking a nap or we’re busy.”
“Do you watch a lot of hockey?” I blurt.
“Not really, I’m more of a football fan.”
“Then why?” I start to ask, then clamp my lips shut, because I think I know the answer before he says it.
“You like hockey, and if you’re going to start supporting the Montana Mountain Marauders, then you need to be able to watch the games,” he says, like it’s obvious.
“You took out a TV subscription so I can watch hockey.” It’s not a question. He already told me the answer, but I still say it, so I can hear the words out loud.
“I looked into getting us some tickets for the games and maybe even season tickets if you wanted. Obviously, we’d only be able to go to the games that are on when I’m not on shift, but it could still be fun.”
“I don’t understand,” I croak, so touched and confused and overwhelmed.
“What’s to understand? You like hockey.”
“What would you do if I’d said I liked makeup tutorials or designer shoes?”
“I’d have bought you all the makeup you wanted or a dozen sexy pairs of shoes so I could fuck you while you wear them and nothing else,” he says easily, smirking like what he just said is normal, like it’s nothing.
But it’s not nothing. It’s everything. It’s why I allowed this complete stranger to bring me to his home and then into his bed.
It’s why I’ve struggled to accept that he trusts me enough to want me here.
Because nothing is easy. People don’t treat others like this.
But Warrick does. Or at least he treats me that way.
“I don’t deserve you,” I whisper.
“You deserve the world, and eventually I’ll give it to you, but a home, food, love—that’s the bare minimum, amore mio.
All I’ve offered you so far is the very least I want to give you, to do for you.
In a month, a year, five years, you’ll look back on this and see how little I’ve had the opportunity to do for you yet.
I’m going to make you so happy, Verity. We’re going to be so fucking happy. ”
I believe him, but I shouldn’t, because faith and hope and dreams don’t usually exist for people like me. But I believe him; he’s making me believe, and that’s a terrifying and dangerous thing.
Once our plates are cleared and he’s asked me a dozen times if I’ve eaten enough, and then tried to feed me fruit and candy and juice, he cleans the kitchen, then leads me back upstairs.
Stripping the shirt he dressed me in over my head, he positions me naked near the door while he strips the bed and makes it again with fresh sheets.
“You’ll turn me into a brat if you keep doing everything for me,” I warn him as he smooths the comforter down, then immediately pulls it back, ready for us to crawl back into bed.
“Good. I’d love to see you try to brat me. Maybe I’d spank that sexy ass before I fucked it.” He laughs, tugging me into his arms.
“You want to spank me?” I gasp, slightly horrified.
“It’d be a fun spanking. The kind that makes your ass cheeks all pink and hot.”
“I don’t think spanking is meant to be fun.”
“I’ll show you one day,” he promises as he kicks off his shorts, his dick hard and dripping wetness from the head.
“Does that hurt?” I ask.
“No, amore mio, it doesn’t hurt. Come and snuggle with me.”
“I thought…” I point to his dick.
“You thought I wanted to fuck you again?”
I nod.
“I do. I don’t think there’s been a moment since I saw you in that parking lot that I haven’t wanted to fuck you, but right now I want to snuggle and watch some hockey, and maybe take a nap before lunch.”
Reaching for the remote control, he signs in to the hockey channel, selects the last Montana Mountain Marauders game, and hits start. I fall asleep nestled protectively in his huge arms before the end of the first period.