Chapter 10 #3
And I’m going to ruin her, one perfect inch at a time.
Andie’s still limp from the aftershocks, her breath slow and ragged, when I ease myself up to the head of the bed.
The lamp throws a soft, honey-colored pool across the silk sheets, catching the beads of sweat on her chest and the damp shimmer of her thighs.
I watch her recover, every eyelash flicker, every slow return of color to her face.
She looks ruined already, and absolutely beautiful, but I haven’t even started.
I strip my shirt, toss it somewhere, and crawl onto the bed above her. I’m not subtle about it—she can see the outline of my cock, already hard again and eager. Her eyes drop to it, and I catch the way her pupils widen, black eating up blue.
I kiss her again, softer this time. She tastes like wine and salt and something wild I can’t name.
I run my hand down her arm, over the delicate bones of her wrist, and pin her hand to the bed above her head.
She’s so small under me, I could break her, but instead I just stroke her cheek, the side of her neck, the perfect curve of her breast.
“Are you ready?” I rasp.
She looks at me. “Ready for what?”
I grin, blue eyes flashing devilishly. “You’ll see.”
Her nipples are flushed, standing at attention, and I roll one between my thumb and finger. She gasps, arching her back, pressing herself into my hand.
“I love your tits,” I say, and mean it. “I could suck on your tits forever.”
She laughs, a short, high sound, and I feel her relax, the last of the tension bleeding out of her.
“Really?” she coos, lifting her big breasts with her hands as if in offering to me. “Sometimes I do this for fun,” she says in a coy tone before lifting one tit to her mouth and licking the nipple. She never drops my eyes, and then lifts the other, licking that nipple too.
“Ooooh, it feels so good!” she sighs. “I can feel it in my cunt.”
I lean forward and lick her tits then.
“Goddamn, you’re a dirty girl,” I rasp. “But you have me to suck your tits now, sweetheart. Anytime you want your nipples licked, you tell me.”
She giggles and then moans as I move lower, kissing down her body. She lifts her hands, buries them in my hair, then pulls at my shoulders as if she can’t decide whether she wants to hold me down or pull me up.
When I reach her pussy again, I nuzzle at it, licking up the evidence of her orgasm.
“Fuck baby, you taste so good,” I rasp. “Like honey.”
She’s still so tight, I have to take my time. I work her open, gentle, teasing, until she’s moaning, writhing under my tongue.
She whimpers, “I want you inside me, Thomas,” and her voice is so shaky, so open, that for a second I almost lose control.
I kiss my way back up her body, settling my weight between her legs. I brace one hand on the mattress by her head, the other cupping her jaw. I look her dead in the eye.
“I’m sorry because this is going to hurt, a little,” I say. “But I’ll make it good. I promise.”
She nods, wide-eyed, and wraps her arms around my neck. Her nails dig into my back, and it’s exactly what I need.
I position myself at her entrance, rub the head of my cock against her lips, letting her feel the size and the heat. She tenses, then relaxes, and I push in, just a little, just enough to stretch her.
She sucks in a breath, nails raking down my shoulders.
“Ooooh!”
I hold still, whispering, “Breathe. Just breathe. You’re doing so well, baby girl. You’re tasting your first dick and loving it.”
She inhales, then exhales, and after a few seconds I push a little further. The resistance is real because Andie’s so fucking tight, but I merely kiss her again, hoping to distract from the pain below.
“You’re doing great,” I rasp again. “You’re small, but it’s proof that you’re a virgin. Keep breathing,” I command. “In through the nose, out through the mouth.”
I ease myself in a little further, my cock feeling like it’s going to explode. My abs are tight, every cell focused on where we’re joined, and that’s when I feel it. Her hymen. The barrier is spongy, but definitely there, and I look Andie in the eye.
“This is going to hurt, sweetheart,” I rasp and then without waiting, I punch through her innocence.
“Ooooh!” she keens, her head tilting back at the pain. “Oh oh oh!”
“Shhh,” I whisper immediately, capturing her mouth in a deep kiss. “The worst is over sweetheart, and you did great. You were a champ.”
I hold still, letting her get used harboring a massive cock in her cunt, kissing her hair, her face, her closed eyelids. I murmur to her, soft and filthy at the same time.
“That’s my good girl. Taking all of me like that. God, you feel fucking incredible. You were made for this, weren’t you? You were made to be Daddy’s personal slut.”
She’s sobbing a little, but it’s not pain anymore. Her hands grip my arms, and I wait until her whole body relaxes before I move again.
When I do, it’s slow—so slow I’m torturing myself, but she deserves it. Inch by inch, I bury myself inside her, until I’m all the way in, balls deep. Her pussy is so tight, so hot, it’s like being swallowed by a velvet vise.
I start to fuck her, gently at first, then harder as she starts to move with me. Her legs go around my waist, and she lifts her hips, meeting me thrust for thrust.
“God, you’re so hot and wet,” I groan. “So fucking tight. You’re going to ruin me, Andie.”
She whimpers, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” and it’s the green light I’ve been waiting for.
I pick up the pace, fucking her harder, faster, holding her legs wide open so I can watch myself disappear into her vag with every stroke. It’s obscene. She’s so small, and yet she swallows my cock whole, her little pussy clinging to my dick whenever I pull out.
“You have dog,” I rasp.
“Mmnnh?” she sighs, only half-hearing.
“Your cunt is so fucking horny that it sticks to me when I pull out, like it’s begging me not to go. You have a hungry, whore-y cunt baby, that craves dick and needs big cock to be satisfied.”
“Ummmh,” Andie replies, unhearing. Fuck fuck fuck. I’m losing control. There’s a faint line of red where I pull out, a badge of what we’ve done, and I watch the blood mix with her vag juices, painting my cock as I drive back in.
“You’re my little whore now,” I tell her. “No one else will ever fuck you like this. No one else will ever make you feel this way. You hear that, Andie? You’re mine now.”
She arches, her hands clawing at my back, and she comes again, pussy clamping down around me so tight I almost see stars. She screams my name, the sound raw and unfiltered.
“Thomassss!” she cries out. “Ooooooh!”
I lose it then, pounding into her with everything I’ve got. I kiss her, bite her lip, and then roar like a madman as my balls lift, come shoot pulsing. It’s like being hit by a truck. I bury myself to the hilt, spurting reams of hot seed into the beautiful blonde, marking her as mine.
“Fuck!” I roar. “Oh shit shit shit!”
Gallons of semen splash across Andie’s fertile fields, and belatedly, I realize I didn’t ask if she’s on birth control. But the thought disappears from my mind instantly because another orgasm sweeps through my frame, massive blasts of seed coating the beautiful blonde’s interior.
“Fuck!” I shout again. “Goddamn!”
We continue to come, our cries twining in the night as I cram her all the way full.
There’s so much seed that it literally oozes out between us, spilling down her ass and staining the sheets.
But I don’t give a fuck because this is the woman I was made to fuck, and I’m having the time of my life. Holy shit.
After a few minutes, I finally descend from the Heavens. We lie there for a minute, bodies tangled, sweat cooling on our skin. Her face is tear-streaked, but she’s smiling, and I wipe the tears away with my thumb.
“Are you okay?” I ask, brushing the hair from her face.
She nods, then laughs, the sound pure relief. “I’ve never been better.”
I pull her close, my forehead pressed to hers, and breathe in the scent of her, the taste of her, the feeling of her wrapped around me.
It’s perfect. She’s perfect.
And I’m never letting her go.
We’re a mess: sweat drying on skin, silk sheets stuck to my back, the whole bed smelling of sex and sweat and desire.
I hold her against my chest, one hand slow in her hair, the other cupped around her hip.
Through the window, the city’s drift is visible: a barge slides past on the black water, its lights moving slow as a second hand.
I count her heartbeats, feeling the pulse against my ribs, the way her thigh twitches every time she shifts closer.
I don’t want to move. Ever. The moment feels fragile, like if I blink I’ll wake up back in my empty, echoing condo filled with ghosts.
Andie snuffles, wriggles tighter, and makes a contented sound like a sigh. Her hair is a tangle across my arm, pale as spun gold, her lips slightly parted and red from my teeth.
I stroke her back, tracing patterns over the vertebrae, letting my hand come to rest at the base of her neck. She sighs, then rolls onto her stomach, ass in the air, cheek pressed to my chest. For a second, the urge to go again is overwhelming, but I fight it down.
I don’t say anything for a while. The room is warm, and the city is far away, and I have her, and that’s enough.
Eventually, I speak.
“You know what’s fucked up?” My voice is raw, nothing like the one I use in boardrooms or investor calls.
She makes a lazy humming noise, not opening her eyes.
“I thought you’d be a fun story. A distraction. But this? This is going to ruin me.”
The young woman smiles, still not looking at me. “Isn’t that the point?”
I run a finger along her jaw, turning her face up to mine. “You’re mine, now,” I say, and I mean it. “You belong to me.”
She looks at me, eyes open, impossibly innocent. “I want to be owned by you, Thomas.”
Something in my chest tightens. I grab her, hard, rolling her under me, pressing her into the mattress until she’s gasping.
I kiss her, softer than before, letting my mouth linger on hers until she melts beneath me. I pull back, memorizing her ruined face, her swollen lips, the look of utter trust in her eyes.
“I’ll take care of you,” I say. “Forever, if you let me.”
She doesn’t reply. She just clings to me, arms around my neck, breasts crushed to my chest. Her breath slows, then steadies, and in less than a minute she’s asleep.
I don’t sleep.
I watch her, every minute, counting the freckles on her shoulder, the faint bruise on her thigh from where I gripped her too hard. I see her purse on the nightstand, flap askew. I see our discarded clothes on the floor, lying in tangled heaps. None of it matters.
What matters is the girl in my arms.
And the slow, molten sweetness that fills me, melting down everything I thought I was, making room for something new.
I press my lips to her hair and close my eyes, and for the first time in a decade, I feel like I’ve won something worth keeping.