Chapter 8 - Delilah
I can't believe I'm doing this.
Can't believe I'm lying here completely naked with a man I met six hours ago, asking him for more after he just made me come so hard I can barely take a deep breath.
Can't believe I'm about to hand over my virginity, something I've held onto for twenty-five years not by choice but by circumstance, to someone who's technically still a stranger.
Except Graham doesn't feel like a stranger.
He feels like safety and protection and is the first person in years who's looked at me like I'm worth protecting. Like I matter. Like my body isn't something to comment on or criticize but something to worship.
The way he looked at me when he pulled off my clothes, like I was beautiful instead of too much, I've never seen that before. Never had someone make me feel desired instead of tolerated.
And the things he just did with his mouth...
Holy shit.
I didn't know my body could feel like that. Didn't know pleasure could build and build until it exploded through every nerve ending. Didn't know I could make sounds like the ones that came out of me, so desperate and needy.
"You okay?" Graham asks, and I realize I've been quiet for too long, just staring at him while my brain tries to process everything that just happened.
"More than okay," I smile.
He smiles back. "Good. I want you to enjoy every single step of this."
"It was perfect. You're perfect." I reach up to touch his face, tracing the line of his jaw. "I want more. Want you inside me. Want to feel what it's like to be connected to you completely."
His eyes darken at my words, and I feel something hard pressing against my hip through his jeans. He's aroused, has been this whole time while he focused entirely on my pleasure without asking for anything in return.
"You sure?" he asks. "We can stop here. You don't owe me anything just because I rescued you or made you come."
"I know I don't owe you. I want this. Want you." I pull him down for a kiss, tasting myself on his lips. "Please, Graham. Make love to me."
He groans against my mouth. "Fuck, Delilah. The things you do to me."
"What do I do to you?"
"Make me lose control. Make me want things I shouldn't want. Make me feel things I'm not supposed to feel for someone I just met." He kisses me again, harder this time. "You make me lose my fucking mind."
"Good," I whisper against his lips. "I want you to lose your mind with me."
He sits up and starts stripping off his clothes.
Jacket first, then his shirt, revealing a body that's lean and toned and covered in scars I want to ask about later.
His chest has a few scattered tattoos, nothing excessive but enough to make him look dangerous.
He stands to remove his jeans and boxer briefs, and I get my first look at him fully naked.
Oh.
He's... he's big. Bigger than I expected, though I don't have much reference for comparison beyond anatomy textbooks and awkward sex-ed classes. His cock is hard and thick, flushed dark with arousal, and there's a bead of moisture at the tip that makes my mouth water.
"Still sure?" he asks, catching me staring.
"Yes. Definitely yes. I just... you're beautiful."
He chuckles. "Men aren't beautiful."
"You are. Every part of you." I spread my legs wider in invitation. "Please. I need you."
He settles between my legs, bracing himself on his forearms so he's hovering over me. Close enough that I can feel his breath on my face, see every fleck of color in his hazel eyes. I can feel the heat of his cock against my thigh, hard and demanding.
"This might hurt," he warns. "I'll go slow, but your first time usually does. Tell me if it's too much and I'll stop. Okay?"
"Okay."
He reaches between us and positions himself at my entrance. I feel the blunt pressure of his cock against my pussy, and my whole body tenses in anticipation.
"Breathe," he reminds me. "Just breathe and try to relax."
I take a deep breath and focus on his face. On the way he's looking at me like I'm precious. Like I matter. Like this moment matters.
He pushes in slowly, just the tip at first. The stretch is immediate and intense, nothing like his fingers. My body resists, muscles clenching around the thick head of his cock.
"Easy," he murmurs, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "You're doing so good, baby. Just a little more."
He pushes deeper, inch by inch, and the burn intensifies. It's not unbearable, but it's not comfortable either. A strange fullness that my body doesn't know what to do with. I can feel every ridge, every vein of his cock as he forces my virgin pussy to accommodate him.
"You okay?" he asks, holding perfectly still when he's maybe halfway inside.
"Yeah. It just... it feels weird. Not bad, just different. So full already."
"It'll get better. I promise." He kisses me again, his lips tender even as his cock stretches me open. "I'm going to push all the way in now. Deep breath."
I breathe in, and he thrusts the rest of the way inside me.
I cry out from the overwhelming sensation of being completely filled.
Of having him buried so deep inside me that I can't tell where I end and he begins.
Of losing my virginity to a man I met today and feeling absolutely certain it's the right choice.
"Fuck," Graham breathes, his whole body trembling above me. Sweat is already forming on his brow from the restraint it's taking not to move. "You feel incredible. So tight. So perfect. Like you were made for my cock."
"Does it feel good for you?" I ask, my voice shaky. "I don't know what I'm doing. I might be doing it wrong."
"There's no wrong way, baby. You just lie there and let me make you feel good." He starts moving. Slow thrusts that let my body adjust. "Tell me how it feels."
"Full," I manage. "So full. It's starting to feel... oh..."
He's found a rhythm now, each thrust going deeper, his hips rolling in a way that makes his pelvis grind against mine. Sweat drips from his temple onto my chest as he works above me, his muscles flexing with each powerful stroke.
"That's it," he encourages, his voice rough. "Your body's adjusting. Starting to feel good?"
"Yes. Oh god yes. Don't stop."
He doesn't stop. Just keeps that steady rhythm, his hips snapping against mine, his cock sliding in and out with growing ease as my body produces more wetness to ease the way.
I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he groans, a raw, desperate sound that makes my pussy clench around him.
"Fuck, Delilah. You're going to make me come too fast if you do that."
"I don't care. I want you to feel good too. Want you to come inside me."
His eyes flash with something primal at those words. "You want me to fill this tight little pussy? Mark you as mine?"
"Yes," I whimper. "Please, Graham. I want all of you."
Something shifts in him then, his control fraying at the edges. He shifts his weight onto one arm and slides his other hand into my hair, gripping it firmly at the roots. Not painful but controlling. He pulls my head back, exposing my throat, and his pace changes.
No longer slow.
Now he's fucking me with purpose: deep, hard thrusts that make the headboard slam against the wall. Each stroke drives the air from my lungs, makes my breasts bounce, and sends shockwaves of pleasure through my entire body.
"Going to give you everything," he growls against my neck, his teeth scraping my skin. "Going to fuck you until you can't remember your own name. Until the only thing you know is how good my cock feels inside you."
The dirty talk should embarrass me, but instead it makes me wetter. Makes me desperate for more. I dig my nails into his shoulders, probably leaving marks, and he hisses in pleasure.
"Mark me," he demands, his grip on my hair tightening. "Let everyone know I'm yours."
I rake my nails down his back, feeling muscle and scar tissue beneath my fingers. He groans and slams into me harder, the bed creaking beneath us with the force of his thrusts.
Sweat is dripping off him now, from his face onto my breasts, down his chest where it mingles with mine, making our skin slick where we're pressed together. The room smells like sex and sweat. His hair is damp, falling forward into his eyes as he fucks me faster and harder.
"So fucking beautiful," he pants, his voice ragged. "Taking my cock so well for your first time. Such a good girl. My good girl."
His possessive voice makes me clench around him.
"Fuck! Do that again." He releases my hair to grip both my hips, angling them up so he can thrust even deeper.
"There," I scream. "Right there! Oh god, don't stop!"
"Never," he growls. "Never going to stop. Going to fuck you every night. Make you scream my name. Fill you up until you're dripping with me."
His hands are gripping my hips so hard I know there will be bruises tomorrow, perfect imprints of his fingers marking my soft flesh. The thought of wearing his marks, of everyone seeing that I belong to someone, makes my pussy grip his throbbing cock.
"That's it," he encourages, his rhythm becoming erratic as he gets closer to the edge. "Squeeze my cock. Take what you need from me."
I'm close too. I can feel the pressure building low in my belly, spreading through my limbs, making my toes curl. Every thrust pushes me higher, and the combination of his cock inside me and the way he's looking at me like I'm everything makes it impossible to hold back.
"Graham," I gasp. "I'm going to… I can't—"
"Come for me, Delilah." He leans down, pressing his sweat-slicked chest against mine, his mouth finding my ear. "Come on my cock. Let me feel you."
One more deep thrust and I’m done.
My orgasm tears through me like lightning, my pussy spasming around his cock so hard it's almost painful. I scream his name, loud enough that the entire clubhouse definitely hears it, my nails digging into his back hard enough to break skin.