Chapter ten #2
“My name is Tilly. You call me Tilly. That’s what the people I care about call me.” His whole frame tenses then his hands move into my hair, playing with the strands. “Please Greyson, just once. Give me this chance to feel wanted for me.”
“I want you,” he whispers. “And when it comes to you, I can’t say no.”
“So, you’ll do it?” My voice rises at the end of the sentence. The hope in my heart that he’ll do this for me glaringly obvious. “You’ll fuck me?”
His hands drop away and he steps back. Wary eyes run from the top of my head down my naked body to my toes, then he walks over to the entrance of the room. I panic that he’s back tracking, that he’s going to open the door and leave without doing what I so desperately need him to.
Determined not to beg any more than I already have, I watch as he checks the latch and then spins back to face me.
“First of all,” he says. “As this is your first time, we won’t be fucking. No woman should be fucked on their first time.”
Confused, I stare at him, unsure what the hell he’s talking about.
Surely, it’s all the same. It certainly doesn’t sound enjoyable from what my mother has told me.
“But…” I’m ready to argue when he raises his hand.
“Secondly, if you’re trusting me to take your virginity, I’m going to make damn sure you enjoy it. Tell me, what do you like?” I blink at him, stunned into silence by the question. Why would he care what I like? And how does he expect me to know when I haven’t had sex before?
“I don’t know,” I stammer. My cheeks which were warm now feel like incinerators. A quick glance in the mirror tells me they’ve morphed from baby pink to cherry red. “I’ve never…”
He walks back over as his fingers begin to lift the t-shirt he’s wearing over his head.
I swallow hard when his ripped body comes into view.
It’s no real surprise with the job he does, but I’ve never been up so close with a bare-chested male.
The X-rated viewing continues as he moves to each set of curtains and closes them tightly.
Once the room is secure, he moves behind me and wraps his arms around my body, taking my hands in his.
His right hand lowers until it is level with my pussy, and he places my palm across my entrance, then his over the top.
“Are you telling me you’ve never played with yourself, Tilly?” he whispers before dropping a kiss on the side of my neck. My knees almost buckle in surprise. The same lips continue to trail kisses down to my shoulder, our hands still sitting on my pussy. “I don’t believe you.”
“I…” Unsure what to say, I stop speaking.
“Have you given yourself an orgasm?” His direct questioning knocks the breath from my body.
In my head, he was going throw me on the bed, stick his cock inside my vagina, pump a while, then that would be that.
This man has a different scenario in mind, and my pathetic lack of knowledge leaves me feeling at sea with what to expect.
“No, I haven’t,” I admit, and he stills.
It feels like an eternity passes before he speaks. Perhaps he thought I would be more experienced or at least have more knowledge. But the sad reality is that my upbringing has been beyond sheltered, and at twenty-two years old, I am dreadfully under informed.
“If you’ve never experienced the ecstasy your body can provide, you haven’t lived. That’s going to change tonight.”
His hand over my pussy lets go, and he takes my chin in his grip, turning my head to face him.
“Take one of those pretty fingers and play with yourself while I kiss you.”
His lips lock with mine, his tongue pushing inside forcefully.
I’m hit with the taste of tobacco and pull back.
“You taste of cigarettes,” I mutter.
“Cigars, actually. Give me a moment. Stay there, and keep playing with that cunt of yours.”
He walks off toward the bathroom as I stand practically naked in the center of the room, my finger on my clit.
When he returns, he strides over, picks me up bridal style, then carries me to the bed and throws me onto the sheets.
He leans down and kisses me again; all I taste is mint. “Better?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Much.” My hand, which became dislodged mid-carry, returns to between my legs. I bend my knees and open them wider. “I don’t like smoking; it will kill you.”
“A lot of things have tried to kill me, Miss.”
He unbuttons his jeans then slides them down his legs.
Standing in front of me in nothing but his dark, tight boxers, he looks like something out of a Roman history book.
The tip of his cock protrudes slightly at his waistband, begging to get out to play.
“Nothing has succeeded in sending me to meet my maker yet.”
My eyes bug at him as the situation hits home, and he cocks his head the side.
Aware I’ve fallen silent, I try to think of something to say but nothing comes to me.
My body is caught somewhere between arousal and petrification.
I’ve got what I wanted waiting for me, but will I be brave enough to see it through?
Greyson watches me intently as if he is assessing every movement, no matter how small. He reaches for my hand, which has frozen on my clit, using it to pull me up and forward to sit and face him. My legs dangle off the edge of the insanely high bed, and I drop my eyes away from him, shy.
“Have you seen a man naked?” he asks, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard it. “Be honest.”
“No,” I admit, completely embarrassed that it’s so fucking obvious. One finger touches beneath my chin and he raises my face upward so we’re looking at each other.
“There is no shame in protecting your virtue, Miss. There is no shame in staying away from sex until you feel ready. Stand.”
I do as he says, and he steps back. “Okay, let’s do this on your terms. I’m yours to use as you wish. Touch me, experience me, then once you’re comfortable I’ll break in that pussy of yours.”
I step forward and reach with both hands for his chest.
My fingers splay over his taught skin. This is actually happening.
I can’t fucking believe it. He feels warm under my touch.
I place my palm over where his heart is and feel the beat, strong and steady.
My own heart races at twice the speed in my own chest. Greyson’s hand lifts and mimics mine.
“You’re nervous,” he says calmly. “Don’t be. You don’t need to go through with this.”
“I want to,” I tell him, and he leans down to peck my lips.
“Me too.”