Chapter 3
THREE
DALLEN
What am I doing? I wave goodbye to Amy, who salutes me with her glass of wine, before I take Stephen’s hand and start toward where I think the exit is to this nightclub. I haven’t been here much in the past, not being much of a party girl.
Case in point, why I’m still carrying around my V-card. Even so, I think I’m going in the right direction and hope the little gumption the alcohol has given me lasts until I fuck the man who’s holding my hand and making me feel all kinds of tingly.
I don’t know how I managed to score a guy who looks devastatingly fucking hot and built who seems more than willing to do what I want for my first, but I have, and now I have to go through with it.
No, you don’t, Dallen. You can leave whenever you want.
I know that’s true, but I so want to experience what I feel like I’ve been missing out on.
A connection with another person that I’ve not been able to take part in, mostly due to my parents—my father in particular—and his possessiveness over everything in my life.
Understandable after the death of my brother Daniel due to getting caught in the crossfire of a gang killing he’d been assigned to that went wrong.
I push the thought of my brother away. I can’t be sad tonight. Tonight I’m a little tipsy, and I’m going to use that bolster to my confidence to fuck the shit out of this hot dude who seems willing to scratch the itch I have.
A cool draft from the hallway brushes over my bare legs as we near the doors, the change in temperature snapping my senses awake.
I debate my decision all the way to the nightclub doors.
Fuck the shit out of him? Who am I kidding?
This is probably going to hurt, and I’ll end up regretting my life choices in the morning.
But at least I won’t die a virgin and will have ticked off another one of life’s gifts that I promised myself I would do before turning twenty-nine.
Stephen steps out in front of me just as I’m about to hail a cab and gestures up the street. A car’s lights turn on before the black vehicle pulls up to the nightclub. Stephen reaches for the door and opens it for me.
“You have a car?” I ask.
“I have lots of things.” He grins and gestures for me to get in.
I look into the vehicle. It seems clean enough, and the driver is an elderly man who looks over his shoulder and gives me a friendly smile. I smile back, wondering how many other women Stephen has brought into this very vehicle over the years.
Probably more than he could count on his hands.
“Are you going to get in, or are we not going to fuck as you asked me?”
I feel the heat kiss my cheeks, and I gape at Stephen. Did he truly just say that out loud? Loud enough for the driver to hear and anyone standing close enough to us on the street? I hear someone behind us clear his throat, and I turn to see the bouncer trying to hide a grin.
I purse my lips. So he heard. I lift my chin, not willing to let him know I’m hoping the earth will open up and swallow me whole right about now.
“Of course. I was just ensuring the car was clean, which it is, so that’s fine.
” I inwardly groan at my absurd excuse for hesitating and climb into the back of the car, shuffling to the other side before the creak of leather tells me that Stephen has followed.
“64th St, Lenox Hill, please,” I advise the driver.
The door shuts, and the interior light turns off. I swallow as the sound of the city is muted, and all I’m left with is the sound of my heart beating in my ears. I can feel Stephen’s heat beside me, his strength, and his scent, Oud of Gods if I’m not incorrect, smells delicious.
Outside the window, neon signs streak into colored blurs, giving the whole moment a dreamlike edge. The car pulls easily out into traffic, and for several heartbeats, I think he won’t say anything. Shouldn’t we talk some more? Get to know each other?
The feel of his hand slipping onto my leg startles me at first, but in for a penny, in for a pound—I don’t remove his hand.
Instead, I pretend to be someone I’m not.
I turn to look at him and fight not to sigh in pleasure when I find him watching me with an intensity that leaves the hairs on the back of my neck prickling.
He’s so intense, so goddamn good-looking I ache at the very sight of him.
His hand squeezes my thigh and slips closer toward where my panties are.
Boldly, I open my legs. How I have the ovaries to do such a thing, I have no idea.
This isn’t me. I don’t do these kinds of things.
I’m a good girl. I do as I’m told and what I’m asked, and that’s the end of my life.
But here and now, tonight, I don’t want to be a good girl. I want this man to make me a woman. I want to feel what it’s like to be taken, to be owned by a man.
I want to feel everything.
“Naughty girl… You surprise me, Pumpkin.”
I surprise myself. “Do I?” I say instead, wanting to sound as confident as my body is portraying me to be. “What else can I do for you other than surprise?”
Stephen reaches for the door and presses a button, and a screen that shields us from the driver goes up, leaving us cocooned in the backseat.
He raises his brows and moves to face me.
His hand slips up the last of my thigh, tickling my skin before his fingers skim ever so lightly over my mons.
I suck in a startled breath. I’ve touched myself, of course.
I’ve orgasmed from my own fingers, but this… This is far more intense and intimate.
I’m allowing a stranger access to my most private of places and spreading my legs to let him know he can have me.
“So wet already.” He wrenches my panties aside and slips his fingers into me.
I reach for him, needing to ground myself in some way lest I lose control of where and who I am. “Stephen.” His name is a moan on my lips, but I can’t hold it back. His fingers stretch me, tease me as he works them in and out.
“That feels so good.” I spread my legs wider just as his thumb circles my clit while he fucks me with his fingers. I groan and throw my head back. I stare at the car's roof, the city lights from the skyscrapers illuminate the vehicle.
His mouth nuzzles my throat, and I clasp the nape of his neck, holding him against me. I’m lost in a sea of lights and enlightenment, and I couldn’t want him more than I do right at this moment.
Sex has always scared me. The thought of it is probably one of the reasons why I’ve waited so long, but with Stephen, the way my body reacts to the very sight of him tells me that it’s time.
Stephen slips onto his knees. He throws me a wicked smirk that leaves me achingly wet before he spreads my legs and reaches up my short dress to rip off my panties. He lifts them to his face, takes a deep breath, and groans.
“You smell as sweet as you’ll taste.” He slips his fingers into his mouth, sucking the digits that just a moment before were inside me. I know I’m gaping. I probably look like some stunned deer in headlights at everything he’s doing, but I can’t help myself.
This is all new to me.
“Put your legs on my shoulders, Pumpkin.”
I take a deep breath, having read of the position but never having imagined I would get my turn to try it.
I lift my legs and slip them over his shoulders. He clasps my ass and wrenches me down farther on the seat. My dress falls to my waist, and I can see that from the waist down, I’m open and exposed to him. My legs spread, my pussy his to observe in all its glory.
Well, I hope he’s thinking of it in such a way…
“Beautiful.” He dips his head, and the feel of his tongue as it slides up between my wet folds makes me buck. The sensation is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. It’s everything and more, all rolled into one.
His tongue teases me, flicks my clit before sucking hard.
“Stephen.” I gasp his name, press myself against him like some wanton hussy. But oh, this is the sweetest torture that I never want to end.
“Fuck you taste good. I’m going to eat your fucking cunt before I fuck the shit out of you.”
“Yes.” I want him so much. I feel a rush of liquid, and he groans, pressing two of his fingers into me again before adding a third.
The pressure is a little uncomfortable, but nice—nothing I can’t handle—and the more he stretches me, the better it feels. He twists his hand to a different angle and rolls his finger somewhere deep inside that sends a profound, throbbing pressure building within me.
“Oh fuck yeah,” I moan, rolling my hips, wanting him deeper, harder.
“I need to fuck you. I want to wait, but I need to have you here. Now.”
“Yes.” I want nothing more. I forget my fear of what is to come and instead revel in the sight of him as he straightens and rips open his jeans, unzipping his pants. His cock catapults into his hand, and he watches me watch him stroke his cock.
He’s hugeeeee.
I meet his eyes, and I know he knows what I’m thinking.
“It’ll fit. I promise.”
I nod and bite my lip, waiting for him. He wrenches me to the edge of the seat and presses his cock against the entrance of my cunt. The feel of him there is nice, like my body knows what it wants and craves without ever knowing why.
“I’m going to watch myself stretch your beautiful pussy.”
I wrap my legs about his waist, feeling warmth yet again gush between my legs. Just him talking to me makes me horny, makes me eager for whatever else he has in store for me.
He clasps the tops of my thighs and presses into me. He’s huge, and I fear he’s not going to fit.
“Breathe, Dallen. I’ll fit. I promise.”
I nod and try not to freeze up. He stops pressing into me and rolls his thumb over my clit. I’m transported immediately to pleasure, to forgetting the uncomfortable pressure between my thighs, and instead, the feel of him inside me and him teasing me with his fingers is too much and yet not enough.
“I feel so full, so achingly full.”
“You’ll feel better soon—I promise you that. I’m going to make you come on my cock.” He leans down and kisses me for the second time. I need this to want him so much. He kisses me deep and long, his tongue teasing mine as slowly I feel him press all the way into me.
“That’s it, beautiful. I’m in… Now for the fun part.”