“Maybe I will.” I managed.
He finished his drink and stared at me.
“What?” I asked, shifting under his gaze. His green eyes were glassy and yet I could see the wheels turning in his head.
“I’ll fuck you.”
“Gee thanks. So, kind of you to make the sacrifice.” All of a sudden, I was feeling humiliated and ready to go home and hide under my covers.
“No.” His hand was on mine. “Not like that. Shit, I’m sorry.” He shook his head like he was trying to clear it. “It’s not a pity fuck I’m offering.” He scooted his chair closer to me and put my hand over his zipper. His dick was full underneath it. “I’m genuinely wanting to fuck you. If you wanted. I could teach you.”
I looked into his green eyes as warmth spread through my body. My hormones chanted, “Yes, yes, yes,” but even with all the booze, my common sense warned that it might not be a good idea.
His hand went to my cheek. “I’ve been dying to kiss you since lunch.”
What? “Are you toying with me? Is this some sort of game or a bet?”
He smiled. “You watch too many teen movies. No. I’m not toying with you and there’s no bet. I like you.” He leaned closer, his lips a whisper away from mine.
Like a magnet, I closed the distance between us, pressing my lips to his. Fire ignited in my blood at the taste of him.
He moaned, slanted his head and parted his lips. I moved in sync, letting his tongue in. It was hot against mine.
His hand pressed mine against his dick. “See how bad I want you?” He murmured against my lips. “If you want to turn in your v-card, I can help.”
By now, my pussy was throbbing and I didn’t feel like I had a choice. He was the only one to soothe the ache in my body.
That’s how, twenty minutes later, we were in a fancy hotel room planning to do the deed.
“How often have you done this?” I asked as he poured champagne.
“Fucked? Or fucked a woman I’d just met?” He handed me a glass.
“Both.”
He smirked. “I’m young and rich.”
“And sexy,” I added.
He smiled. “I’m glad you think so.”
I rolled my eyes. “There’s no way you don’t know that about yourself.”
He laughed. “That’s what I like about you. You say what you’re thinking.”
“Hoity-toity people don’t?”
He shook his head. “No. They like to be coy and in control. It’s fucking exhausting.” He took my hand and led me to the bed. “I want you to tell me everything you’re thinking and feeling.”
“What if you don’t like what you see?”
He stopped. “I already do.” His hands rested on my waist and then slowly slid up. “I want to touch your tits. Can I?”
“You don’t have to do this,” I said, still struggling with the idea that he was that into me.
He laughed. “I think that’s what I’m supposed to tell you.” His hands cupped my face. “Really. We don’t have to do this if you’re too nervous. Or we can stop anytime you feel uncomfortable.”
I looked down. “I just can’t figure out why you’re here with me. I’m not special. I’m not sexy.”
“Oh, but you are, Serena. Whether we do this or not, from now on when I jerk off, I’ll be thinking of you and I know I’ll come so hard.”
His words sent another wave of erotic sensation coursing through my blood.
“At the very least, let me get you off. I can do that without fucking you.”
My pussy was aching for his touch.
“Do you want that? Do you want to come?”
“Yes,” I admitted.
“Let me make you come.” His lips fused to mine and his hands began to undress me. He broke the kiss and sucked on a bra-covered nipple and that was it for me. All resistance or concern broke, replaced by white-hot need. My hands were like whirling dervishes as they worked to undress him too.
When I was naked, he lay me on the bed, his gaze scraping over my body as he shucked off his pants tossing a condom on the bed. He pushed his boxer briefs down and his dick popped out. It was long and thick, and my pussy convulsed in need.
“Look at my cock, Serena. Don’t think you’re sexy? Think again.” Then he was over me, his hands and lips doing delicious things to my body. I felt like I was in a netherworld of sensation. It felt so good and at the same time frustrating as tension coiled tighter and tighter.
“Can I fuck you?” His voice was hoarse.
“Yes.”
He rolled to his back, grabbing the condom. I looked down at his dick, so long and hard, I wondered how it would ever fit. I reached out to touch it.
He hissed. “Careful, he’s about to blow.” He rolled the condom on and then covered me with his body. “I’m going to try and go slow but I’m so fucking hot right now, I’m afraid I might lose it.”
I nodded, feeling more needy than nervous. “I’m hot too, Devin. I need to come.”
“Let me take care of you, baby.”
A different sensation washed through me at his use of “baby,” but I tried to stop it. This was just a hook-up, I reminded myself. He didn’t care for me. I wasn’t his baby.
“Open up for me,” he said, settling between my thighs. “Bend your knees.”
I did as he said, feeling a little vulnerable at being so exposed. But then he ran his finger through my pussy lips and all thought left. I gasped and arched to his touch.
“So wet. So responsive,” he said. He gripped his dick and rubbed the tip over my clit and through my folds. “Tell me you want this.”
I appreciated that he was concerned about me, but at the same time, I was frustrated because he was delaying.
“Fuck me.”
He groaned, and then pushed his tip inside me. It was soft and hot, and unfulfilling. I needed more. So much more.
I gripped
