Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Rage settled his weight between her thighs again. Using his dick, he parted her slick folds, probing for that sweet spot while silently asking permission to press on. Her fingers clamped around his hips, squeezing him tight.
“No?”
“Yes, but…” She chewed on her bottom lip.
Of fucking course she was nervous. She wasn’t the only one. And he hadn’t been anxious like this since his own cherry had been popped when he was a teen. “It’s okay, baby. Gonna go slow. It gets to be too much, you tell me and I’m gonna stop. No need to rush. Want this to be good for you.”
“I want this to be good for you, too.”
He wanted to bark out a laugh. She had no idea how long he’d been waiting for this and never thought it would happen. Even if it only lasted thirty seconds, those damn thirty seconds were going to be fucking great for him.
He nudged his way inside her, bit by bit, slowly moving forward until he hit a barrier.
This was fucking it. Once he pushed past it…
When her hard nipples brushed against his chest and her nails dug deep into his ass, he thrust forward.
And stopped.
The gasp he heard wasn’t a good one. It made him immediately regret this whole damn thing.
What the fuck was he thinking? He was a stupid fuck.
“Ash.”
He unclenched his jaws and glanced down at her.
“I was aware it might hurt so I mentally prepared for that. It’s fine. I’m fine,” she assured him.
“But—”
She shook her head. “The pain’s already over. Bring on the pleasure.”
Christ, no fucking pressure at all. “Gonna do my fuckin’ best.”
“Can’t ask for anything more than that.”
Sure she could, and if he could give her everything she ever asked for, he’d do that, too, but he was just a biker who managed a strip club and lived in a shitty two-bedroom apartment above it.
This woman has known you her whole fuckin’ life. She’s aware of who and what you are. She’s okay with it. Stop fuckin’ with your own head.
With a nod to himself, he began to move. He took long, slow strokes, letting her body adjust around his length and girth.
But fuck…
Hot, slick velvet hugged his dick. Her pussy was tight as fuck.
And the more he moved, the more she made soft, little whimpers.
Those were so fucking dangerous because they went straight to his dick.
He was about to lose his fucking mind and he’d only just begun.
He gritted his teeth to keep himself under control. To not lose his shit and nail her to the mattress.
Like he wanted to do. Needed to do.
His balls were screaming for relief, but his brain was screaming back a reminder that she was different.
She wasn’t like the rest of the women he’d been with.
She wasn’t a stripper.
Or a sweet butt.
Or even a hang-around or random.
This was fucking Lyric.
Lyric.
He wanted to respect her, and his plan had been to worship every inch of her. To treat her like she deserved to be treated.
He was fighting not to throw that plan out the fucking window.
She gripped him harder, and with every thrust, she tipped her hips and tried to pull him deeper. Only, he couldn’t go any further because he was filling her completely.
His goal at the moment was to keep his pace steady, to not fill that wrap too soon, and more importantly, give her an orgasm.
Prove to her that she didn’t give her virginity up for nothing.
Or to a selfish asshole.
But the more he fought against his instinct, the more sweat beaded on his forehead and rolled down his temples.
The harder he panted.
Because he was fighting a war Lyric knew nothing about.
Every damn thrust had to be highly controlled. He had to bury his face in her neck so he wouldn’t collar it with his hand and squeeze.
He had to keep his mouth closed when he kissed along her warm skin so he wouldn’t sink his teeth in, leaving his mark behind.
It was all a fucking struggle.
If it had been anyone other than Lyric, he would hate every damn second of it.
But it was her and he was willing to sacrifice his sanity to make it good for her. To not overwhelm her.
To make sure her experience with him this morning didn’t ruin sex for her in the future.
When small ripples surrounded his dick, it was the end for him.
He. Was. Fucking. Done.
His balls pulled tight and his hips surged forward one more time before he emptied himself into the wrap.
He released the one tit he was cupping and planted his palms into the mattress to avoid crushing her when he collapsed.
It was crazy. He swore shooting this load was the most intense he’d ever experienced, despite it being the least freaky sex he’d ever had.
He buried his face in her neck, keeping as much of his weight off her chest as possible. For a few moments, he simply breathed.
In his head, he went over what had just happened. And with who.
And why.
And how this changed everything between them, even though he didn’t want anything to change.
They’d have to live with it now.
Taking a woman’s virginity shouldn’t be a big deal as long as it was what they wanted.
Never before had he taken his time and care with a woman. Fuck no. Most knew what they signed up for prior to getting naked. They weren’t being intimate, they were fucking. Bodies slapping together to get to the finish line: a release. The woman’s first, then his.
He’d never lingered afterward. He had no desire to cuddle with some woman he didn’t give a shit about.
But Lyric wasn’t some woman.
He fucking cared about her. She was important to him.
With a groan, he pushed himself up enough to be able to see her relaxed face. “You okay?”
With her brown eyes soft and her lips curled up slightly at the ends, she nodded.
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
He reluctantly shifted enough to slip his dick free from her. He then removed the wrap and tied the end before dropping it on the floor to be disposed of later.
Reaching between them, he swiped a finger through the arousal still clinging to her inner thighs. He rubbed the pads of his fingers together when he spotted a tinge of blood mixed with her arousal.
Goddamn.
First virgin he ever had.
Seeing the actual proof got him in the gut.
He took something from her that she could only give once.
He, somehow, was the lucky bastard she chose.
Why did he deserve it?
Truth was, he didn’t.
“Might be sore tomorrow.”
She moaned when she stretched. “It’ll be worth it.”
“Tell me that again tomorrow.”
Her body shook with silent laughter.
He shifted, pressed his face into where her tattooed shoulder met her delicate neck, and simply breathed.
Now what? Should he tell her, “Sorry I took your virginity. Now that I have, you should find someone better for you.”?
That would be a dick move.
But, hell, he had warned her ahead of time that fucking him would be a mistake. She decided to ignore that warning.
Again, they grew up together. She knew him.
Knew what he was like.
Knew how he’d earned his road name.
It wasn’t like he had to coerce her.
She came to him.
She stepped into his apartment.
She never discouraged him for a second.
Lyric wanted him to be her first.
Truthfully, he’d much rather it be him instead of some random jack-off who didn’t give a shit about her. Who only wanted to score with a hot chick. Or to conquer a virgin.
An asshole who wouldn’t have given a shit if she came or not.
Or wouldn’t have been gentle with her.
Who might not have backed off if she got uncomfortable and said no.
The more his thoughts followed this path, the more aggravated he got. At this non-existent person.
But he could’ve been real.
Some other motherfucker might not have valued her the same as him.
His teeth clenched and his fingers curled into fists just thinking how some bastard might have taken advantage of her innocence.
Fuck. It suddenly and unexpectedly hit him with the force of a hurricane…
This made her his.
No fucking way would he allow any other man to have her.
She’d never share another man’s bed.
She’d never kiss another man. Fuck another man.
Have his goddamn babies.
Lyric now belonged to him.
But he needed to keep that shit to himself until he could figure out how to deal with that realization.
Or maybe he just had to pretend none of that was true and nothing had changed between them.
Nothing at all.