I’ve had a virgin before, but, then I was a virgin, too, and we were both shit at fucking. My dick hurt as bad as her cunt. It’s a memory best forgotten. Like so many of my goddamn memories.
Georgie sucks my nipple into her mouth and I groan, moving inside of her in a steady in-out motion, a stroke away from pulling out and eating her pussy to get her off.
I don’t need to fucking teach her how to come with my dick inside of her. When I force myself to walk away from her, I’ll have enough memories to contend with. Although I’ll finally have good and sweet thoughts. That’ll be enough. It should be.
But I’m her first and I want her to be my last.
I crave. I thirst. I hunger. I live for Georgie.
Is it right? Is it real? I wish I knew. From the moment I met her, she’s been in my head. I’ve been unable to concentrate without knowing she’s safe. The only way to guarantee her safety is to kill Crowell and Cassandra, or keep her with me.
Crowell is already facing serious recovery time, after I fucking beat him to within an inch of his miserable fucking life. Jaeger is cleaning up the winds of scandal. Let him do what he does. I couldn’t give less of a fuck. Crowell deserved it for keeping her fucking strung out.
Georgie’s thighs and legs tremble. I stare down out her, brushing her hair out of her face. Her eyes are gleaming. Purple. Blue. Violet. One day, I will define their color.
They draw me. They slay me. They captivate me.
In her eyes, I see so much. But I know, even if I use my fingers on her while I fuck her, she’s not going to come. So I kiss her and thrust into her until my cum spurts into her.
Only this one time will I have her without protection. Here and there, I’ve fucked without condoms and it’s never come back to haunt me. It seemed so impersonal to stick my covered dick in Georgie for her first time as much as it hit me as wrong to come outside of her. How many fucking girls—women—have I pulled out of to come on their tits, thighs, or stomachs? How many have I made swallow to finish me off?
My thoughts are as jaded and sordid as I am.
I separate from her and turn onto my back, compelled to raise my head and study my dick. It’s bloody, as are her thighs.
She nuzzles her head against my arm like a kitten and I pull her to me.
“No one can know. Ever, Georgie.”
“I promise this will be our secret.”
The words even if we’re together when you turn eighteen burn in the back of my throat. If I say them, I’ll have to make it happen. Only thinking that sentiment seems easier to ignore.
“Stay here.” I go to the bathroom and wash my dick, fascinated by the pink water swirling down the sink. Georgie’s virginal blood. She’s finally mine in every sense.
Instead of remorse and shame, nothing but relief, satisfaction, and possession slices me. First thing tomorrow, I’ll call Helen and tell her the changed plans. As far as I know, Cassandra is still hospitalized, so squiring Georgie to my house in Denver shouldn’t be much of a problem.
I grab a washcloth and wet it with warm water before going back to her.
She’s covered herself and I scowl at her. I don’t have to open my mouth. She knows the look and shoves the covers away from her body. Some of the blood and cum is gone from her thighs and I know it rubbed against the top sheet.
Sitting between her legs, I clean up her thighs and stare at her pussy.
“Do you like the way it looks? I can change the style of my hair on it,” she offers quietly, chewing on her lip, already swollen from my kissing.
I work not to show my flash of anger and smile thinly, running my finger along her sliver of hair and teasing her clit. Her outer pussy lips are devoid of hair. “How did you decide on the landing strip?”
Her brows draw together and her flush deepens before she drops her gaze.
“Answer me,” I demand softly, although I already know who instigated the landing strip on her pussy.
“Cro-crowell told me to do it like that.”
I stare at her cunt again and she’s unflinching beneath my gaze. Asshole’s doing again. Maybe, he needs a knife buried into his throat after all.
“You don’t mind me studying your pussy?”
She shrugs, but doesn’t answer.
“Do you want to come?”
My words seem to lift a burden from her and she relaxes. “Yes.”
I want her to come, too, but I have to deny her. I’ll never help her if I don’t. “I’ll make your pussy feel good, sweetheart, if you behave.” I lean forward and lick her until she’s close. Her smell is my paradise. I tongue my lips, reveling in her sweet taste.
A hand covers her pussy and she fingers her clit.
“You want my dick again?” I ask harshly, knocking her fingers away.
She’s trembling and she’s frustrated, but she needs discipline, so that means I have to summon my own hard-won restraint.