Chapter eleven
Greyson
Every molecule in my body screams to stop this stupidity now. If I sleep with Tilly tonight, I am literally painting a target on my back. Once Hunter or anyone within the organization I work within knows, I’ll be dead. And two things I’ve learned since working with Hunter Devane is:
He always finds out.
He isn’t averse to getting his hands dirty to keep his men in line.
I have no doubt that the method chosen to distribute that punishment would be insanely slow and painful. But here I am anyway, standing in only my boxers in Tilly’s hotel room, telling her to do as she wants with me. To use my body as a tool to learn how to have sex with her future husband.
The thought of that nasty old man even touching her makes my blood boil.
Deep down, I pray that the wedding won’t go ahead.
That the families will go to war again, or the deal will fall through, and her betrothal will be cancelled.
The arrangement will no doubt be sensitive as the Devane and Lombardi families have been at odds for decades.
The old stories I’ve heard tell of nothing but death and murder in the most brutal ways.
“Greyson,” Tilly whispers as she stares up at me.
She looks completely sweet and innocent in nothing but her lace panties.
Her delicate hands sit on my chest—she is standing frozen to the spot.
It’s clear she’s lost. The brazen woman I thought she was before this trip has all but vanished.
I see now it was nothing but a front. “I don’t know what to do.”
I place my hands over hers again and begin to guide them over my skin.
First, up to my shoulders then I encourage her to wrap her arms around my neck.
I lean in to kiss her, and she rises on tiptoe, keen for our lips to touch.
My own hands wrap around her middle, and I pull her hard to me, leaving my cock pressed against her abdomen.
“Do you feel that?” I say quietly. When I open my eyes, hers are tightly closed. She mumbles a “yes” against my lips, and I can’t help but smile. A chuckle of happiness escapes. This is the most content I’ve felt in years. This woman makes me feel whole in some bizarre and unexpected way.
“Why am I funny?” she asks, her tone hurt. Her eyes open and she looks up at me. An uncertainty flits across her features, and my guilt hits hard.
“You’re so fucking sweet, Miss. Tell me, is my cock the first one?” Her cheeks flush bright red, but she doesn’t look away. “Am I truly the first man to touch you?”
She doesn’t respond straightaway. I haven’t known her for long, but I do know the side of herself that she shows the world isn’t who she truly is.
Behind the bravado and lack of care is a girl who has never felt loved.
She overcompensates by pretending to know it all and be in control of where she is headed.
Both people in this room know that “fact” is bullshit.
I can’t help but think it’s similar to my own life.
From the outside, we both appear strong and in charge, but on the inside, we have no idea what the fuck we are doing here on this earth.
Each step we take is a guess, another movement along the track of life where the end could happen tomorrow or fuck knows where.
Neither of us truly know what to expect in the next minute, never mind next week.
“You’re my first,” she confesses eventually, bringing my runaway thoughts back to where I am. I’ve noticed she has this effect on me—she only has to open her mouth and she grasps my attention. I want to hear what she has to say.
“I’ve no idea how a woman like you has gotten to twenty-two and not had a man push his dick up against this gorgeous body. Have you seen yourself?” Her eyes drop away, shy, but I see the small smile my compliment creates on her lips.
“You’re the only person to ever call me that.” Her words are soft, but the tone of her voice lifts with what can only be understood as happiness.
“What?” I prompt when she doesn’t expand on the statement.
“A woman.” Her eyes lift once more, a stunning artwork of blue azure, porcelain white, and charcoal black.
They take hold of mine, and it takes a firm talking to myself internally to maintain my composure and train of thought.
This is important—she has little confidence in herself. That truth dampens my mood a fraction.
“Have you seen yourself?” I repeat determinedly. “You are fucking gorgeous.”
On the wall beside the bed there is a full-length mirror. I take her fine fingers, pulling her toward it. Once she stands in front of the glass, I move behind her. Beautiful eyes stay fixed on a spot between her feet, and I place my hands on her waist.
“Look at yourself,” I tell her. She responds by shaking her head.
“Miss, look at yourself.” Slowly, her gaze rises and we stare at one another in the reflection.
Her whole demeanor is nervous. “I feel like the luckiest man on this earth being allowed to touch you. You’ve saved yourself and chosen me.”
“I never…” Her words trail off. She takes a deep breath. “I never wanted to before. The opportunities I’ve had were limited and the boys I’ve known, well, they’re just that.” She shrugs under my fingertips. “Boys.”
“And this young woman wants a man?” I confirm, still absorbed by her in the mirror, listening intently to what she has to say.
I know for all her privilege it’s unlikely that anyone has ever actually listened to Tilly at any stage of her life.
She was always told to conform, and her rebellion was met with disdain.
In essence, she had no opportunity to become herself.
“I need a man.”
My hands drop to the waistband of her underwear and slowly slide the scrap of material down her legs, my eyes running over every delicious curve. She tenses, but I keep going, desperate to see every inch. Lace drops to the floor, collapsing in a pool around her feet.
“You’re fucking stunning, Miss.” My hands rise and cup her breasts, thumbs flick over each pert nipple.
With a sudden intake of breath, her eyes widen further as she watches me play.
Her nipples elongate beautifully between my fingers, sitting, waiting to be devoured.
“See how your body is responding to my touch. Tell me how you feel.”
After a short pause, she opens her mouth. I can almost hear the cogs turning between her ears as she considers what to say. “Be honest,” I encourage.
“Excited,” she says, quietly. “I feel excited, and…nervous.”
“Good, you should be excited, because I’m going to make you feel things tonight that you’ve never felt before. Being nervous is natural, and we will take it slow. You’ll enjoy it, I’ll make fucking sure.”
Using my left hand, I trail my fingers down over her stomach.
She leans back against me as we face the mirror.
I press forward to push my solid cock between her perfectly rounded ass cheeks.
They part beautifully, and my swollen dick sits deliciously in between them.
Plump cheeks wrap around my cock straining against the material of my boxers.
“I fucking want you; can you feel that? I want to be inside that pussy of yours so damn bad. Just the idea of you makes me want to shoot my load.”
“What if it hurts?” she asks, her focus dropping from the mirror.
The anxiety emanating from her returning with full force.
The change of topic takes me by surprise, and I realize I need to go slow.
Potentially slower than I ever have, but holding her here like this convinces me it will be so damn worth it to have her.
The fact she wants me as her first means more than I ever could bloody imagine.
“It’s my job to make sure you’re ready enough that it doesn’t hurt.” She looks up again, and a small smile appears on her lips. “And if it does, you tell me and we stop so I can do a better job of preparing you, Miss.”
“And what do I do?”
“Be a good girl. Let me worship you.” Her smile widens further as soft flesh relaxes in my arms.
“But first I’m going to give you a biology lesson.”
She narrows her eyes as clear confusion appears on her features.
“You’re going to get up close and personal with my cock. The best way to learn is to do.”
“Oh…” I turn her in my arms to face me. She swallows visibly but squares her shoulders as if steeling herself for running a marathon.
“On your knees, Miss,” I command firmly. She doesn’t move. “On. Your. Knees.” Each word leaves my lips slowly with purpose.
“I don’t kneel for anyone,” she shoots back, and I laugh out loud.
She may be terrified, which I’m sure she is right now, but she’s still the headstrong rebel I met.
Tilly is programmed to push back if she can, and I imagine fucking her may be no different.
The good thing about that is if I get to fuck her, I’ll know she wants it. And that is a damn turn on.
“You’ll kneel for me. Now, get on those fucking knees before I make you do it.” She glares at me and again doesn’t move. I slide my arms under her armpits and she rises on tiptoe as if to kiss me again. My right leg moves swiftly, hooking both of hers up, then I lower her onto the floor.
Left sitting on her ass blinking up at me, she scrambles up onto her knees so her lips are level with the bulging dick in my boxers. She places her hands on my thighs for balance, and I stop her rising further by pushing down on her shoulders.
“Good girl,” I tell her and before she can respond. I remove my boxers, allowing my cock to spring free so she gets a front-row view. “Now touch me.” She glances up, and I give her an encouraging smile.
“I don’t know how.”
“Trust me, Miss. Just touch me. Nature will take over, and I’ll show you the rest.”
One tentative hand lifts, and her finger flicks over the tip.
I close my eyes as my body vibrates from the minuscule sensation.
Fuck, what’s it going to feel like when I’m inside this woman if a skim of her finger makes me want to shoot my load?
I won’t be able to control myself, but it’s her first time and I’m meant to be the experienced one. I need to keep my cool.
My cock hangs heavy, the tip level with her lips. The fingers of her right hand wrap around my shaft gently. She runs her hand up and down my length insanely slow. Her eyes, which were frozen on her actions, flick up. Her expression is uncertain, looking for approval.
“Good girl,” I whisper. “Such a good girl learning how to touch my cock.” She listens intently as I speak. “Hold me tighter, Miss. Slide those pretty fingers up and down slowly. Feel my dick pulse in your palm. You’ve done that to me, and I’ll reward you by fucking you with it later.”
Her hand moves faster and I groan. The throb of upcoming ecstasy getting close. Normally, I’m good at keeping my spunk inside until it’s time to release, but Tilly has turned me into a sex-mad teen desperate to coat the walls with the stuff.
Maintaining her soft rhythm on my dick, she keeps her eyes on me, watching my facial expressions intently.
Within moments, it’s as if I’ve gone from professor to pupil.
She may be the virgin, but she is in damn control.
And one look at her tells me, even though she’s nervous, she fucking knows it. She’s enjoying the show.
Her confidence grows as her hand slides from tip to base.
She takes me by surprise, leaning in and taking me in her mouth a little.
Her tongue plays with my tip, and I close my eyes, thinking of anything but releasing in her mouth.
Shit, it’s her first time. It’s too soon for that, but fuck I want to.
The idea of looking down and seeing her lick my cum from her plump lips is mind-blowing.
I push forward a little, and she tenses then relaxes as I withdraw. My hands move to her hair as I slide back and forth between her lips. From above, it is the most beautiful sight—my length disappearing into her mouth as her hair is wrapped around my fingers.
“Such a good girl taking my cock, Miss. Think about how that’s going to feel when it’s your pussy. Close those eyes and suck. Beg for my cum. Those greedy lips of yours tell me you want it. Good girls get filled up from all angles.”
Her lips tighten, and my ass clenches as my release screams for freedom.
I flex my hips a few more times, and her hands grab onto my ass, holding me to her.
She sucks my dick like her favorite lollipop, and my cock jerks, dangerously close to the end.
Knowing that if I don’t stop this now I won’t, I take a step back. She releases me and clambers to her feet. Her round tits with long nipples bounce merrily as she does so.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asks, her previous doubt returning.
“No,” I whisper darkly, bending and taking her mouth with mine.
Our kiss is slow and sensual. My tongue eager to explore every inch, taste each flavor and savor it.
“You’re too fucking good. You almost had a fucking Greyson cocktail down your throat. Good girls deserve to be treated before I get my own dessert.”
She giggles, somewhere between sweet innocence and dark delight. The sound speaks directly to my now pulsating dick. I drop my hand and hold myself, then run my thumb over the tip.
“Look,” I tell her, and her eyes drop immediately. “You are such a fucking good girl, Miss. I’m leaking for you; my cock wants to fill that pretty mouth of yours full. You need to lie down now, so I can return the favor and make that pussy of yours wet for me.”
My focus moves to the bed, and hers follows my line of sight.
Without a word, she walks over and lies down on her back.
Long blonde hair spreads over the silk pillowcase, and she sinks into the sheets.
Her knees bend but stay pressed together.
I take that as my sign to start with her tits, which are begging to be sucked.
I move to sit beside her, placing one hand on her stomach.
“Lie back, Miss. Your first time just got started. You’re not leaving these sheets until your juices cover them.”