Prologue #2
His voice is velvet, like if sex could be described as an adjective and not a noun. Deep and raspy, a gravelly baritone that you feel, not just hear.
Am I sure that I want this? Want him?
Yes. There’s not an ounce of hesitation in the thought.
It doesn’t mean I’m not nervous or that I don’t have an insane amount of adrenaline coursing through me. But yes, God, this is the kind of choice that I get to make, and no one gets to decide for me.
It feels like the most freedom I’ve ever known.
I nod. “Yes.”
My lips meet his, and he’s sucking my lip between his teeth, rolling it, biting, sliding his tongue back into my mouth. I can feel his hands everywhere, traveling down from my nape, across my back, curving around my ass, down to dip beneath it, the back of my thighs.
It’s exhilarating, the feel of his hands and mouth, taking and taking.
We nearly stumble as he pulls me through the crowd and end up down a darkened hallway that leads to the bathroom. The sign above the door says so, at least. He lets go of my waist only to rap on the door twice, and when no one responds, he pulls me inside.
The doorframe rattles as it slams shut, and he quickly flips the lock.
Jesus, my heart feels like it’s going to come out of my chest, both in excitement and nerves.
He stalks toward me, his mouth crashing down on mine, picking right back up where we left off. This kiss feels different though.
More desperate, more frantic.
Like we can’t move fast enough, like our minds are a step ahead of where our bodies are.
He lifts me off my feet, and my legs wrap around him on instinct, my nails digging into the tattooed sleeves of his arms. My back hits the wall, and the artwork shakes as he presses me against it.
Only then does he stop kissing me.
He tears his lips away to trail them along my jaw, his tongue darting out to trail a fiery path down my neck, along my collarbone, to the shallow space between my breasts that’s barely visible from my shirt.
Every spot that his lips touch, it’s as if he’s leaving behind an electric current, leaving my skin buzzing.
I can’t believe I’m doing this, but I’m also totally doing this.
I’m not giving myself a chance to overthink anything or talk myself out of it.
He slips his hand between us and deftly undoes the button of my shorts in the span of a breath. And then his eyes are locked on mine as he slips his fingers beneath the band of my panties.
My breath catches, rattling somewhere inside of me the moment his fingers brush along my clit.
Oh my God.
“So fucking wet. Jesus,” he murmurs, and hearing him speak again, that voice, it has my pulse racing.
His fingers circle my clit roughly, with the perfect amount of pressure that makes my toes nearly curl.
The sound of my head hitting the wall behind me echoes around us. “Please.”
I don’t even know what I’m begging for, but… something. Everything.
More than just the feel of his fingers.
He mutters a curse, and then his hand disappears. My eyes drop down to where he’s working the button of his jeans open and dragging the zipper down. I’m only on my feet long enough for my shorts to come off.
His gaze travels to the pink satin panties covering my pussy, and his eyes darken impossibly, heat flaring within them. With one move, he lifts me back off my feet and presses me back against the wall.
One large hand curls around my nape, and the other curves at my hip. His erection throbs between us, and I bite back a moan.
When his hips flex and it presses into my aching core, that moan escapes, despite how hard I’m trying to hold it back.
God, I want this.
I’m shaking with adrenaline, and the nerves in my stomach are fluttering around like a thousand butterflies thrashing in a cage, but I want this.
So bad.
My arm slips around his neck, and I hold on as he tugs his briefs down and covers his length with a condom that I didn’t even notice he’d gotten.
Thank God, he’s thinking when I’m clearly not.
A thick finger glides along the front of my wet panties before he tugs them to the side, exposing my pussy to the cool sensation of air.
This would be the moment to tell him that I’m a virgin.
But if I did that, then it would ruin this. If I tell him, he’ll probably stop, and if he stops, I might die.
It’ll be… fine.
One tiny moment of discomfort, and then it’ll be over.
Fisting the base of his cock, he drags the thick head through my lips, coating himself in the embarrassing amount of wetness pooling between my thighs.
Everything is moving so fast, and I’m thankful for that so I don’t have a second to overthink, but it doesn’t give me very long to admire him, which is truly unfortunate.
I feel the tip pressing against my entrance as he lines himself up, and I hold on tighter, curling my fingers into his shoulders.
His mouth hovers over mine as he starts to push into me, and I know that the only way I’ll make it through this moment without screaming is if he’s kissing me.
I pull his mouth down to mine as he spreads my thighs wider and then drives inside me with a hard snap of his hips, breaking past resistance and burying himself to the hilt. Every last inch.
White-hot searing pain shoots through me, and I bite down on his lip to keep from crying out.
He groans against my mouth, slipping his tongue past my lips and sucking on it like I imagine that he would my clit.
“Goddamn, you’re so fucking tight,” he rasps, the words low and weighted with desire.
When he draws his cock out of me, I whimper, a noise he takes as pleasure, before slamming back inside me.
It stings.
But also, there’s something else, something just out of reach that feels… good as he brings his hand between us and his fingers find my clit, rubbing fast, rough circles.
That’s when he starts to fuck me.
Rough thrusts that pin me against the wall, thrusts I feel everywhere, down to the tips of my toes. Pulling out until only the tip of his cock remains and then surging back inside.
The pictures on the wall behind me shake, and so do my legs from the rush. From the pleasure sweeping through me.
It’s morphed into a dull throb now, and with his fingers rubbing my clit, my limbs loosen, and some of the tension seeps out of me.
My head lolls back against the wall, and his lips find my neck, his teeth raking over the sensitive spot beneath my ear, and I feel… I feel like I’m going to fall over an edge, one that I’ve never been on.
“Jesus, how the fuck do you feel this good,” he murmurs against my neck, his voice cracking at the end.
I can’t even manage words right now, an unintelligible sound tumbling past my lips instead. I’m clinging to him; my nails have to be making marks in his skin with how hard I’m holding on because he’s truly fucking me like he’s trying to nail me into the wall behind me.
“Oh… God,” I pant, something tugging in my lower belly when he thrusts deep, hitting something incredible inside of me. “There. Right…”
He groans and rocks into me.
The bathroom is filled with the noise of his hips meeting my ass, the obscene sound of how wet I am for him, the sound of our labored breathing, the sound of his fingers thrumming my clit.
It’s erotic, and dirty, and completely unhinged.
Everything about this is not who I am, but… it feels like it should be.
My back arches, and I’m tumbling over that invisible ledge, my thighs trembling, my lower belly quivering as pleasure shoots through me.
I cry out, clawing at his back, sinking my teeth into his shoulder when his fingers dig into my thighs, and he groans, low and deep, following me over the edge. I can feel as he empties inside the condom, his cock pulsing.
Sucking in a breath, I peel my eyes open once my orgasm subsides, and I watch the man in front of me.
The stranger with the stormy eyes who just made me come for the first time in my life, while taking my virginity in a bathroom at a bar.
I’m pretty sure that’s not something that happens frequently, at least not in the books that I read.
He slowly lowers my feet to the floor and pulls out of me. I wince as he does, and then it hits me that he’s going to realize very quickly that I’m… that I was a virgin.
I might not ever see this man again, but that is not a conversation I want to have.
Bending, I quickly grab my shorts and pull them on, then button them.
I can feel his eyes on me, but he doesn’t move from where he stands a few feet away.
“Uh, thank you for…” I trail off when I realize how absolutely ridiculous I sound.
Thank you for railing me into the wall behind me.
Nice doing business with you, sir.
Jesus.
I smooth a hand over my hair, taking one last look at the man who has no idea he just deflowered me.
Whose dark eyes stay locked on me as I make my getaway. Eyes that I could easily lose myself in again if I’m not careful.
Instead of the insanity that almost just spilled from my lips, I opt for “thank you” instead.
And then I’m slipping out the door and back out into the crowded bar, into the loud, thumping bass, into the mass of bodies that swallow me up.
Knowing that I’ll never forget tonight as long as I live.
I’ll never forget him.