“Fuuuuckk…” He draws the curse out and drops his forehead over mine, almost falling over me.
I’m whimpering with his invasion. It’s painful, so fucking painful. I feel the brilliance of it in every corner of my body. My legs are shaking as a cold sweat grips me in its clutches. I don’t even remember it hurting this bad when Caleb took my virginity. Why is it hurting so much now?
“Have you been lying to me, Layla?” Thomas is angry, clenching and unclenching his jaw, grinding his teeth. “Have you been lying about your virginity all this time?”
I shake my head furiously, rolling our sweaty foreheads against each other. “N-No. No, I wouldn’t do that.” I scrunch my eyes in pain and somehow manage to speak. “This isn’t my first time. It’s the…second.”
My hips jerk from side to side and my toes flex inside my socks, trying to find a comfortable position, but the pressure isn’t easing. Thomas digs his palm into my hip and halts my movements. “Stop moving. You’re going to make it worse.”
“But it hurts,” I whine, biting my lip.
“I know.” He grinds his forehead into mine and closes his eyes on a grunt. His chest undulates with a long breath, meant to gather himself. “I can’t do this. We—”
My limbs move before he can finish and twine around his body. It’s not the first time I think of myself as a toxic, wild plant that never knows when to quit growing. His cock slides in deeper due to my movements, but I don’t care about the pain. I don’t fucking care about anything as long as he is inside me.
“No. We can. I can take it.”
“Let me go, Layla.” I shake my head and a pulse starts on his jaw. “Don’t make me pull your arms off. I don’t want to hurt you. Just…let go.”
“No.” I cling to him tighter, until I’m almost hanging on to him. “You don’t understand. I don’t remember anything. I don’t remember my first time except that it was dark and I was drunk and I couldn’t even see him. I don’t remember the pain. I don’t remember if there was any blood. It’s like…” I search for the right words, praying they won’t fail me. “It’s like I made love to a ghost. It might as well have been a dream or a nightmare, but this is real. This is so fucking real, Thomas. You are real. I want the pain. I want the discomfort. I want all of it.”
I tighten my hold around him, feeling the muscled planes of his body shifting. It feels like I’m holding on to an impending earthquake, seismic waves bobbing beneath my grip.
“I want this to hurt because I want this to be my first time,” I say, looking him in the eye.
His cock throbs inside my tightness and I feel the brush of his shuddered breath over my heavy tits. I feel him coming to a decision.
“Put your hands on my back.” His voice is hoarse. “Dig your nails in when it hurts. I’m going to go slow, but I can’t…” His nostrils flare. “I can’t promise that there won’t be any pain.”
“Okay.” I nod, doing as he says, sliding my arms down and uncrossing my ankles so he has room to move.
Closing my eyes, I prepare myself for his thrust. I’m ready for the fire but it never comes. Instead, I feel a flick, a pleasurable flick, over my clit. Gasping, I whip my eyes open and look at him. He is braced on one elbow, his other arm hidden between where our bodies are joined. Another flick of his thumb and I’m biting my lip to keep my lusty moans in check.
Thomas doesn’t smile but something loosens in his harsh face. I stare at him in awe. His fingers are, indeed, magic.
“Do you like that?” he asks.
I swallow and moan, “Yes.”
“I’ve thought about you like this,” he says in the thinnest of whispers. “Under me, naked and desperate. You moan when I touch you like this but I tell you to be quiet. I tell you to keep it in because I want to hear something else.” He presses his thumb and I bob under the pressure. His erection jostles, reminding me that I’m stuffed full of him.
“Do you know what I want to hear, Layla?” The pressure on my clit increases and I can’t keep the moan inside.
“Thomas… Oh God.”
“Shh. Tell me, do you know?” When I shake my head, he clarifies, “The poem you wrote for me.”
His thumb is circling, flicking, feeding me pleasure, and I forget to be embarrassed about my poem. He is making me hungry and though it’s still painful to move, I do it. I bow my back, lodging his cock farther in.
I hear his strangled curse and watch the tendons of his neck tighten at the cost of staying still. “Ah, God, you’re a tease. You’re such a fucking tease.”
I moan and manage to ask, “How do I tease you?”
“The way you stare at me, like you want me to kiss you. The way you follow me around. The way you take everything I give you, never complaining, never backing down. You’re asking for it, aren’t you? You’re daring me, begging me to do all the bad things to you.”
I’m shaking my head on the floor, moving it side to side, mindless, insane, drunk on him.
“Isn’t that why you came here? Isn’t that why you keep coming? You want me to ruin your pussy, make it bleed like it’s your first time. Isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I hiss. “That’s what I want.”
I’m wet, so wet down there, and suddenly we’re moving against each other. He is rocking into me, in and out, long, lazy strokes that I feel in my stomach.
My desire ups with every slide and I forget about the pain. I wrap my legs around his waist and bring him closer. Thomas speeds up his thrusts until he’s slamming into me, grunting like a man possessed.
“Oh God. Oh God. Oh God,” I chant as his hips smash into mine, as his balls slap against my ass. I am sobbing with every jab.
Thomas has gone speechless as he stares down at me, at my rebounding breasts. He is feeding off my moans, my pleasure, my restlessness like a demon. My desperation spurs him on as I meet him stroke for stroke.
I watch him over me, his stomach contracting, his hips pumping, his skin flushed and glowing with sweat. It seems the fire inside him has come to the surface. It burns beneath his skin, creating a reddish sheen over his body that is accentuated by the yellow light.
The sight brings forth a gush of cum from my pussy. I pretend it’s blood, my virgin blood, instead of the creamy arousal.
I moan and shift under him, and the angle of his thrusts changes. He’s hitting an elusive spot inside me, and shivers start down in my toes. They spread to my thighs and I know I’m going to come. I want to warn him, but words are trapped inside my throat with my breath. It doesn’t matter because he doesn’t need any warning anyway. His strangled groan acknowledges my climax.
My sock-covered toes curl and my muscles lock tight. Only my core is spasming with life while the rest of my body might as well be dead.