Chapter twelve
Tilly
Greyson’s strong arm lifts my knees, bending them to his desired angle.
I clamp my legs together, unsure what to do next.
If I open them, does that make me easy? Or should I spread wide so he knows I want this?
I have no fucking idea what to do, and that truth is compounding my feeling like a complete idiot.
All I know is that tonight is the night I’m going to lose my virginity, and my family will be fucking furious.
Hopefully the fallout is enough to cancel my upcoming nuptials, but not so much that Greyson is collateral damage in the process.
Even as I think this, I know it’s bullshit.
They will hate him. The guilt surfaces like it has each time I’ve encouraged him these past few days.
Though this was an option within my “get out” plan, to find someone to deflower me before my life could be signed away, in my head the process was completely transactional and whoever the unwitting fucker would be didn’t actually matter.
But now I’m here with him, with Greyson, it doesn’t feel that way.
My decisions may ruin his future, or worse, take his life.
When I tell him I want him, I mean it. And crazily, his words seem truthful as well.
I would hate for my choices to end up with him dying at my uncle’s hand.
Not only will I be losing my virginity tonight, but it will be to a man I never expected to care for, never mind want.
I just pray it isn’t a death sentence for the both of us.
“We need to talk about birth control,” Greyson says, interrupting my tumbling thoughts.
His palm sits flat against my stomach as he sits on the bed, staring down at me.
He’s got a similar aura to all the men my family hire to protect us—big and strong with violence running through his veins, but there’s also a softness to him I haven’t felt from any of the others.
Growing up, there were many men I wouldn’t want to have been left alone with.
Right now, I feel as though I could spend eternity only with him. He’s an anchor for my terrified mind.
“I’m on birth control,” I lie. His head cocks to one side as he looks at me. The expression on his face tells me he’s unsure whether to believe what I say. “My mother insisted I take it when I turned sixteen in case of any accidents.”
“Accidents?” His expression turns quizzical, clearly confused by my explanation. He knows I am expected to stay pure until marriage. It is a silent agreement the women in our family make on birth, although they don’t know it.
Momentarily, I am unsure whether to continue with the truth or lie. Women in our world tend not to be treated always with the respect we deserve. So, plenty have been “accidently” knocked up by a man unable to contain his desire. You can explain away rumor, but a baby is not so easily hidden.
“In case one of my father’s friends or business associates couldn’t control himself around me, and I unintentionally found myself in a position to become pregnant.”
He listens to my words intently, his eyes never breaking contact.
A darkness flits over his features, turning what was a soft look momentarily furious before it recedes.
“It’s amazing how many dicks fall into unwilling vaginas by chance.”
He bristles, visibly unsettled by my blunt and obviously unexpected statement of fact.
“I want to ensure this vagina is a willing participant,” he says, as his body twists.
He leans down and places warm lips directly on to my pubic bone before sitting back up to face me.
A large hand comes to my face and cups my cheek, he gives me an encouraging smile. “You always have a choice, Miss.”
For two people who barely know each other, it feels as though a multitude of unspoken understanding passes between us in that second—a deep conversation that doesn’t need to be said out loud.
We’re in this together for whatever it means to us.
But regardless of our reasons, this happening is insanely important to us both.
James Greyson makes me feel wanted, and in return I truly think I make him feel the same.
Two lost souls can, on occasion, be the tonic the other needs, even if the relief is as fleeting as one night.
“I choose you,” I reply simply. His smile widens to a grin, and he lies down beside me then pops himself up on his elbow.
He bites his lip, I think to hide his excitement.
It gives him a boy-like quality which is so damn appealing, and so far from the grumpy mafia bodyguard who lifted me over his shoulder at my friend’s party only days ago against my wishes.
That day I wanted to murder him, today I would kill for him.
“Good,” he says after what seems like an eternity.
He leans down and drops a kiss on my nose.
The gesture is so fucking sweet, my heart swells close to explosion, and I need to remind myself that what is happening isn’t real.
This is a means to an end, and hopefully a route to my freedom.
“I’ll pull out as well,” he adds. “To be sure.”
“Pull out?” I ask, confused by the unexpected information. “To be sure of what?”
“You are so bloody sweet.” He smiles again, the boy next door appearing in full force. “I’ll not finish inside you. Birth control or not, we need to be safe. Even though I want nothing more than to fill you full of me.”
“Oh, okay…” I stammer, disappointed that my plan has hit an unexpected road bump. My desolation must be obvious as he takes my hand and squeezes gently.
“The thought of my cum dripping from those pretty lips of yours is appealing. But…” He pauses, I imagine to form a suitable explanation. “I don’t think either of us needs to be taking more risks than we are now.”
I mumble something of agreement to placate him but hopefully, in the moment, he won’t be able to contain himself and will forget.
A girl can hope. Or maybe I can hold him there by sticking my heels in his ass crack.
One look at him tells me there’s no way I can physically stop this man doing anything he wants to me.
So perhaps, I’ll need to improvise. I’ll cross that bridge when I come it.
“Now Miss, close your eyes, lie back, and think of me.”
His voice is deep, almost gravelly as he speaks.
Instinctually, I act on his command and my lids close.
His hand still rests on my stomach as he sits beside me, but I feel his body move slightly.
The next thing I know, soft music is playing in the background and I hear what I assume is his phone being placed on the bedside table.
His fingers move upward until they cup my left breast. He massages softly, starting from the outside and working inwards until strong fingers twist my nipple between them. My eyes crack open, wanting to peek at the show.
“Open your eyes again,” he growls, “and I’ll blindfold you.”
“I dare you,” I whisper back, trying to be coy.
He stands immediately, my lids fly open in response, and I push myself up on my elbows.
Naked, he strides across the room returning with a silk scarf that was part of the wardrobe dropped off at the hotel for me.
Without a word, he folds the material to create a long rectangle, then places it over my eyes before tying it behind my head.
“Don’t dare me to do something you don’t want. I am a man of my word.”
The bed sags slightly as he climbs up fully.
“Open those knees, pretty girl. Spread those legs and let me in.”
Lying back, I do as he asks, slightly panicked he’s just going to go for it.
Sensing my nervousness, he tells me, “Don’t worry, we have a long way to go before that.”
His solid body moves over mine. He is like a furnace against my skin from head to toe.
I lift my hands, searching for his shoulders.
When I feel them, I run my fingers down his arms that sit either side of my breasts.
I imagine what I can’t see—him on his knees, his large body covering my small one.
His rock-hard cock sitting close to my entrance but not touching.
I’ve been brought up to believe that men have no control; Greyson does.
It makes him even more attractive than the obvious craving he has for my body.
The fact he wants me but is able to go at my pace is freaking amazing.
For once I feel safe, knowing someone else has what’s best for me as a priority.
In Greyson’s game, I don’t feel like a commodity. I matter.
Warm lips touch the side of my neck, gentle at first then firmer.
From behind my ear, he trails small kisses down my neck on one side then the other.
He moves lower to my chest, then my breasts, every inch of skin receiving a blessing.
There’s the sensation of teeth taking one nipple and biting softly before sucking.
My tummy flutters with the new feeling as my legs tense, and he moves his attention to my other nipple.
My fingers play with his hair as he moves lower onto my stomach, treating each part of my body with the same care and attention. His lips on my hip cause my pussy to rise upward in reaction. He chuckles then blows on my skin.
“Are you getting impatient?” he asks.
“A little,” I admit.
His head moves down between my legs. Warm lips pepper kisses on the inside of each of my thighs, starting on the inside of the knee and working upward slowly, one then the other.
The flutter in my stomach intensifies and moves lower, so my whole body feels on edge waiting for his next connection with my skin.
My hands, still in his hair, tighten on the strands as he connects for the first time with my lips.
I feel his tongue at my entrance, a slow stroke of enquiry for both of us, something new and unexpected.
“Good girl,” he whispers from between my legs.
“Your first time and you’re already wet for my cock.”
He nuzzles back down, his tongue exploring greedily.
My buzz heightens as his confidence builds.
As he licks and sucks, each touch becomes a little stronger.
“Such a fucking good girl. You are going to feel so good, Miss.”
Unable to stop myself I pull the blindfold from my eyes.
He glances up, a glisten of arousal on his lips. His tongue darts forward and he licks greedily at the treat. Watching him enjoy part of myself so damn much just increases my certainty that this is what I want—a man who wants me, devours me, and relishes my body.
“You taste delicious.”