2. Tessa #2
"You found the notes." Statement, not question.
His lips quirk. Not quite a smile. "I did."
"And you..." I trail off. I can't say it.
"Used you while you were asleep?" He finishes bluntly, no hesitation.
I nod, face burning.
"Yes, Tessa. I fucked you last night. Took your virginity while you were passed out in your bed."
The crude words make me gasp. Arousal spikes through me, sharp and hot.
He's not even pretending to be sorry.
"You left me explicit consent. Written instructions. I followed them."
"I know," I whisper.
"Do you regret it?" His voice goes hard, gray eyes sharp as knives.
I meet his gaze and shake my head quickly. "No. I don't regret it."
"Good. Because I don't either."
Silence again. Charged, electric.
"I didn't know you were a virgin," he adds, voice slightly softer. "You didn't mention it in your notes."
I look down at my plate. "I didn't think it mattered."
"It matters, Tessa. It matters that I was your first."
The possessiveness in his tone makes me shiver.
"Why?" I challenge, lifting my eyes to his again.
"Because now you're mine." Simple. Definitive. Absolute.
My breath catches. Mine. He just claimed me.
"I'm not—" I start to protest.
He cuts me off. "You are. You gave yourself to me. Let me inside you. Let me take something no one else ever will."
"That's not how it works," I argue, but my voice is weak.
My body disagrees. Heat pools between my legs, wetness gathering despite the soreness.
"That's exactly how it works." He stands abruptly, moves around the table.
I tilt my head back as he looms over me. His hand cups my jaw, thumb brushing across my lower lip.
"You wanted this. You asked for it."
"I know," I breathe.
"Do you want more?"
Direct. Demanding. No room for half-truths.
"Yes." The admission leaves me helpless, exposed.
Theo pulls me to my feet, his grip firm and insistent around my wrists.
He backs me against the kitchen counter with deliberate steps, each one forcing me to retreat until the cool granite edge presses into my lower back.
His body cages mine completely, so much bigger, so impossibly solid and real.
The heat radiating from his chest seeps through the thin fabric of my t-shirt.
I feel small, delicate, utterly dominated by his presence—by the sheer size of him, the raw masculine power that rolls off him in waves.
My pulse hammers in my throat. The scent of coffee and something darker, muskier— him —fills my lungs with every shallow breath I take.
"I'm going to kiss you now," he warns, voice dropping to a growl that vibrates through my bones.
"Okay," I whisper, the word barely audible even to my own ears.
This is my first kiss. My first real kiss.
The realization hits me like a physical blow. I've never done this. Never been this close to someone, never felt a man's mouth on mine. My heart races so fast I think it might burst out of my chest.
His mouth crashes onto mine. Claiming, demanding, possessive. Not gentle at all. His lips are firm, hot, moving against mine with absolute confidence. His tongue pushes past my lips and sweeps inside, tasting me with bold strokes that make my knees weak.
I gasp into his mouth, hands flying up to grip his t-shirt.
The fabric bunches in my fists as I cling to him, desperate for something to anchor me.
I don't know what to do, how to respond, where to put my tongue or how to move my lips.
Panic flares briefly before it's swallowed by overwhelming sensation.
He takes control completely. Tilts my head to the side for better access, one large hand tangling in my hair at the base of my skull.
His fingers tighten, not painful but possessive, holding me exactly where he wants me.
His other hand grips my hip hard enough that I know I'll have fingerprint-shaped bruises tomorrow.
The thought sends a dark thrill through me.
His tongue explores my mouth with methodical thoroughness, claiming every inch like he's mapping territory.
He tastes faintly of coffee and something indefinably masculine.
The wet heat of his mouth, the skillful pressure of his lips, the way his tongue strokes against mine—it's overwhelming.
My entire world narrows to this single point of contact.
I melt into him, my body going pliant and soft against his hard frame. I let him plunder and take whatever he wants, helpless to do anything else.
He's kissing me. Theo is kissing me and it's everything I imagined and more.
My nipples tighten into hard points, pressing against the fabric of my clothes. Heat pools low in my belly, spreading through my limbs until I feel flushed and feverish. Between my legs, wetness blooms despite the soreness still lingering from last night.
When he pulls back, I'm gasping for air. My lungs burn. My lips feel swollen, oversensitive, tingling from the pressure of his mouth. I can still taste him on my tongue.
"That was..." I start, voice shaky and breathless.
"Your first kiss," he finishes for me. His eyes gleam with dark satisfaction, studying my face like he's committing this moment to memory.
"How did you?—"
"Virgin in every way, aren't you, baby?"
The question makes my face flame with heat. I nod, too embarrassed and aroused to form words. My stomach twists with shame and desire in equal measure.
"Good. I'll be every one of your firsts."
The promise in his voice sends a shiver racing down my spine. I believe him. God help me, I want him to be.
He releases me slightly, his grip loosening just enough to give me space to breathe.
But he doesn't step back. His body still cages mine against the counter, close enough that I feel the rise and fall of his chest with each breath.
My own chest heaves as I try to calm my racing heart, try to steady the trembling in my limbs.
"Last night wasn't a one-time thing," he states.
"I know," I whisper.
"I'm going to do it again. And again. Anytime you leave that door open."
My pussy clenches. Wetness floods between my legs despite how sore I still am.
"I want you to," I admit, voice barely audible.
"Say it clearly." Command in his tone, no room for evasion.
I swallow hard and force myself to meet his eyes. "I want you to... to use me while I'm asleep. Again."
"When?"
"Whenever you want," I breathe.
His smile is dark, satisfied, predatory. "That's my girl."
He kisses me again, briefer this time but no less intense. Then he steps back and releases me completely.
"You have class."
I blink, disoriented by the sudden shift. I glance at the clock on the microwave—7:58 AM.
My first class is at nine, and Pemberton University is a twenty-minute bus ride away.
"I need to go," I say, flustered.
I grab my backpack from where I left it in the living room and shove my laptop inside. Theo watches from the kitchen doorway, arms crossed over his broad chest.
"Tessa."
I look back.
"Tonight. Leave your door open."
Heat floods through me. "I will."
I practically run out of the apartment, down the stairs, onto the street toward the bus stop. My mind spins the entire ride to campus.
What am I doing? He's thirty-three. Thirteen years older than me. He's my roommate. This is insane.
But I can't stop thinking about it. About him touching me while I sleep. About waking up to find evidence of what he's done. About his hands on my body, his cock inside me.
I shift in my seat, pressing my thighs together. Already sore. Already wanting more.
This is wrong. This is so wrong.
But it feels so right.
I get off the bus and walk across campus toward the psychology building. Students everywhere, living their normal college lives. Worrying about exams and papers and weekend plans.
And here I am, freshly deflowered by my much-older roommate who promised to do it again tonight.
I can't wait.