Chapter 4

Clara

Ok, I’m not an idiot or some blushing virgin. Well, the latter might be accurate, but, I knew exactly what was going to happen at Jack’s, and I’m just proud I didn’t offer to drive us there myself, so far-gone was my longing.

I wanted him, more than I’d ever wanted anything. I wanted this man, and I was going to have him. Nothing was going to stop me. Not even the idea of my mother’s disapproving face and judgemental tone castigating me for wasting my time on someone of the wrong stock.

I wanted to be the Clara who ate hotdogs without worrying about calories, and slushies that made my tongue blue. I wanted to laugh until I cried, and be kissed on a bench before the ocean, while the night wind blew my hair and the lights of the rides painted us pink and red and green.

Most of all, I wanted to act on the first attraction to a man I’d ever really felt. Sure, I’d had the odd crush here and there in high school. Celebrity crushes, of course, because I went to an all-girl boarding school, so there was little chance of developing anything more for a real guy. The men I’d been on polite dates with were like sexless faceless shapes to me, with personalities like my father, and prepped and polished looks that did nothing for me. I was past the age of falling for shiny, magazine cut-outs, blessed only with the gifts that money could bestow.

Jack Dawson was nothing like them, though, he was a hell of a lot richer than them. He smelled like clean, male sweat, a spicy faint musk, and leather from his car, and something exotic like sandalwood. I wanted to lose myself in that scent. When he laughed, it was ragged and deep, and when he smiled, his face crinkled into lines and furrows. He was real, and he saw me. In his eyes, I felt like a person free from my family name and expectations. I was Clara, the brave girl who’d negotiated a two million dollars donation from him, and he liked that. I felt his admiration and respect, and I lapped it up like a cat finding cream.

The journey to his was quiet, filled with anticipation, and the whole time, he touched me. I was not a person who’d been touched often in my life. I had no frame of reference for the casual touching that Jack Dawson seemed to find natural. My parents had never kissed in front of me, and I’d be hard-pressed to remember a time they’d actually touched. But Jack was casual with his affection, a kiss on the cheek, a caress, a hand on my waist. Now he took my hand, his fingers spread between mine, as he opened the car door for me, and pulled me up. He pressed a kiss to the back, and his stubble rasped over my skin deliciously. I wanted to feel it on my whole body.

We had driven through gates and up a short driveway. I was surprised to see such a space in the heart of Greenwich Village. If there was any area of Manhattan that might have a garden, this was it, still, the space was unheard of.

I looked up at the house, which towered above me. It was a mansion in the heart of the city, and I’d never seen anything like it.

“Do you like it?” Jack asked, following my gaze upwards.

“It’s amazing. I didn’t think places like this existed in the city,” I told him, as I followed him inside.

“You grew up in Boston, didn’t you?”

“My parent’s main house is there, and I lived there a while before boarding school,” I told him, entering the quiet foyer. The house was eclectic and warm. An incongruous mixture of high-tech and old world. I touched a crocheted doily, sitting beneath a modern art sculpture, and raised an eyebrow at Jack. He was kicking his shoes off and shrugging out his jacket.

“My mom has never met a polished surface she didn’t want to protect,” he said, by way of explaining why this billionaire, in his state-of-the-art house, had such an old-fashioned, cheap, homey decoration.

My heart trembled in my chest at his casual confidence. His supreme, alpha energy suffused his every gesture. Jack Dawson was a man who bowed or explained himself to no one, and it was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. This was bad. I was never going to recover from this. I was falling in love with Jack with every word from his mouth, and I’d probably never fall out again.

Despite being absolutely sure of that, I had no hesitation, as I slipped off my boots and went over to him. I touched his chest, and he stilled. I ran my hands experimentally up that broad expanse. I wanted to see those blue-collar, former mechanic muscles myself. I wanted to press myself against every single one.

“What are you doing?” Jack murmured, as I slid my hands down his chest and over the flat, hard plane of his abdomen.

“Playing, isn’t that what we came to do?” I reminded him, hoping I was coming off more confident and seductive than I felt.

“Oh, honey, I want to do far more than that with you, but we’ll start there,” he said, and suddenly lifted me into his arms, making me laugh.

“You are going to give me the tour?” I asked.

“Tour later, right now, I’m going to strip you down and kiss you over every inch of this beautiful body until you’re screaming my name,” Jack said, striding down the dark hall with purpose. His words thrilled me.

“And then?” I asked. He walked effortlessly up a long, winding staircase, and moved toward a door at the far end of the hall.

“And then, I’m going to do it again,” he promised, shouldering open the door, and taking me to the huge bed that dominated the beautiful, high-ceiling room.

The bed was soft beneath me, and Jack’s hands were hot, as they pulled at my dress. I pressed myself against him, impatient to be under him. Now I’d decided not to fight this insane attraction, I wanted it all and I wanted it as soon as I could get it.

My fingers tore at the buttons he tried to slip free, sending them showering over the floor. Jack chuckled, as he lowered his face to my neck, and slid hot kisses down my overheated flesh.

“Patience, honey, we have time for everything. We have forever,” he murmured against my skin. My bra felt constrictive and painful almost until his deft hands tossed it aside. Jack sat me on the edge of the bed, and he lowered himself to his knees before me. My nipples were already hard, but then only grew even more so as Jack immediately lowered his mouth to them, and latched on. He sucked and nibbled, and I was lost in that perfect feeling.

His fingers cradled my breasts, massaging them, as he lathed my nipples with his tongue. I arched my back and pressed myself closer to his mouth.

“You taste just as sweet as I imagined,” he said roughly, pulled back, and lowered his burning gaze to the front of my lacy panties. He reached out a finger and traced lightly over the material. “Are you wet for me, honey?” he murmured. The crude question, delivered in that growly tone was perfect. I nodded, biting my lip to stop the truth of my situation from rushing out. Was being a virgin something people didn’t talk about? Was it a major turn-off to be in your twenties and still a virgin? I didn’t know, and it didn’t really seem like the right time to talk about it.

“I want to see,” Jack said roughly, sending a shower of sparks across my skin. He stood, and stripped off his shirt, and pushed his jeans down his legs. His dick was a long, hard length laying up his stomach. My eyes were caught on it, as he slid off his boxers too. It was perfectly proportional to Jack Dawson’s great, muscled body, which meant it was huge.

He lowered that beautiful body onto the bed beside me, and grabbed me, lifting me over him with ease. I yelped as he turned me, and settled me over him. I flushed with embarrassment, as I realized his face was directly lined up with my pussy.

“Sit down, honey. Ride my face,” Jack said thickly. This seemed like advanced sex, but what did I know, I just wanted to feel his hot breath against me there again. I sat gingerly and gasped as I felt his face pressing through my underwear. Jack groaned.

“You smell incredible,” he murmured and hooked my underwear to the side. The first wet touch of tongue against me almost sent me scrambling off him, if not for his hand on my hip. “I’m just tasting you, honey.” He murmured, and I relaxed a little, as his probing tongue explored my wet folds. He slid back and forth and settled on my clit. My clit was the only place I’d ever experimented with by myself, and it had felt nothing like this. I gasped, as his tongue settled on a rhythm, sending pleasure rising through me. I flopped forward, my hips moving in a circle across his face. The room was filled with the sound of him licking and sucking on me, and it felt decadently indecent.

I braced myself on my hands and opened my eyes, suddenly realizing there was a way to take my mind of the hot, unbearably good feeling Jack was stoking inside me.

His cock was straining toward me, the head drooling clear liquid. I lowered a hand to it and touched the velvet hardness. His legs clenched and his cock jumped at the touch. Further intrigued, I wrapped a hand as far as I could around the thick length and moved it up and down.

“Fuck, Clara,” Jack muttered, his voice muffled by my thighs, and I wanted to give him the same pleasure at that moment. I wanted to reduce him to the trembling mess he’d made me. I lowered myself on my elbows, which only spread my pussy further against Jack’s face, and lowered my mouth to his cock. I licked the head, where that clear liquid was, and Jack tensed. I then licked in a circle around the rounded, mushroom top, and his hands came to cup my ass and pressed it against his face.

I put the whole head in my mouth, and swirled my tongue around it, before lowering my mouth down as low as I could.

“Fuck, Clara, that’s it, or this game isn’t going to be nearly long enough,” he said, sitting me upright, and somehow flipping us both over, so he was pressing me into the bed.

He took his cock in hand and rubbed it up and down over my clit. I squirmed against him.

“How do you want me to fuck you, honey?” he asked me. I could barely understand him at this point. The lust in my inexperienced brain was overwhelming everything else. I gripped great handfuls of his hard ass, and ground myself against him.

“Like this, just like this, Jack.. please,” I breathed out. My mind had narrowed down to single-track thinking.

“Just like this? Bare inside you?” he whispered against my lips. I pressed my breasts against his chest and tried to get the tip of his cock, so close now, inside me.

“Yes, just like this. Just fill me up, now,” I said like a woman possessed. Jack looked down at me a long moment, before capturing my mouth in a blistering kiss, and pressing inside.

I cried out at the deep, sudden pain, and Jack tensed, rearing back to look down at me.

“Clara?” he murmured, but I was already urging him on. The pain quickly faded, as he started to fuck in and out of me.

He slid in and out with long, measured thrusts, grinding his hips against mine whenever he was deep inside, hitting my clit just right. I felt myself hurtling toward a release, and reached for it with everything I had.

At that moment, I wanted Jack Dawson to claim me, mark me as his, I wanted to belong to him completely. I didn’t want to be Clara Winter, I just wanted to be his. I rose my hips, meeting his every thrust with abandon. Jack was pounding into me at this point, and growled against my neck, as my nails dug into his back.

“That’s right, honey, leave your marks on me. Make sure everyone knows,” he grunted, biting into the skin between my neck and shoulder, the sudden slight pain only heightening the feelings in my body. His hips slammed into me, and I felt it start to happen. A fluttering deep in my core, a gradual, delicious unfolding inside me.

“Jack!” I cried out, as my body tensed.

“Wait for me, honey, wait for me to fill you up,” Jack muttered before he started to come inside me. The feeling of him deep inside, sudden heat and wetness, only made me come harder. His body tensed, his cock driven in as deep as could be, as it pulsed inside me. His hips were pressed hard against my clit, and I wriggled on him, pinned in place by his dick, and rode my own orgasm out against it. Pleasure clenched me, my body contracting and releasing, pulling every drop of feeling from me, and only his touch anchored me to the world.

I felt like I was floating somewhere beyond. That joyful, bright feeling filled me so completely, I felt it rush out and spillover. I laughed and hugged myself against Jack’s chest. He rolled us carefully to the side, and his dick slid from me in a wet rush. I even liked that feeling somehow. It felt primitive and filthy, to enjoy the wet feeling of Jack, working its way down my thigh, but I couldn’t help it. I sighed and laughed again.

“Clara?” Jack said, and I tilted my face up to meet his look. The dark, almost angry look in his eyes stole my carefree pleasure in a breath.

* * *

Jack

“What the hell Winter?” I demanded as Clara came down from her post-orgasmic high. She looked stunning, smiling, and freshly fucked, laying in my arms, but I couldn’t afford to get distracted right now.

“What?” She asked, the pleasure on her face fading. It gave me a pang to see her happiness dim, but I needed answers.

“Tell me that wasn’t your first time,” I asked her, more for myself than for her. A first time? This beautiful, captivating woman hadn’t been with anyone before? And I’d fucked her hard and mercilessly?

“Ok, it wasn’t my first time,” Clara said obligingly. I narrowed my eyes at her.

“Are you lying?” I asked her. She shrugged her slim shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me, honey?” I asked, trying to soften my tone. It wasn’t her fault I had barely managed to remember to be a man and not an animal.

“I thought you might change your mind about it if I did,” she said, with a pout that I had to kiss. “I went to an all girl’s school and I’ve never wanted to have sex with any of the arranged dates I’ve been on. Any other type of casual hooking up is out, someone could sell the story afterward,” Clara explained.

I kissed her gently, my mind running through the reality that Clara Winter had been a mid-twenties virgin, and I had just taken her first time from her, in a dirty rush of desperate fucking. Another thing occurred to me.

“Are you on birth control?” I asked her. She swallowed hard, her throat bobbing with the effort. I had thought when she wanted me bare inside her that she had wanted nothing between us and had trusted me to be disease-free. I had assumed she was on birth control because I’ve never met a girl her age that wasn’t.

“I’ll get Plan B,” she said quietly.

“Plan B?” I repeated numbly. I was lost in my own head, feeling old, irresponsible, and like absolute shit. But then I saw the panicked look in Clara’s eyes, and it jolted me from my private castigation. I pulled her into my side and pressed a kiss against her forehead.

“I’m sorry, I was just surprised, and I – I wouldn’t have chosen to have your first time like that… I could have been more gentle, prepared you more,” I explained. I was not a small guy, and I worried she was sore now. Clara raised a hand to cup my cheek.

“It was perfect and exactly what I wanted. You didn’t hurt me, and I’d have had no trouble telling you if you were,” she said, tilting her face up to look at me.

“A first time should be special,” I continued.

“It was special. It was with you,” she said quietly. I really didn’t need those sweet words to strengthen my love for this girl, but, there they were anyway, dropping like stones through my heart and anchoring me to her, an immovable, permanent feeling.

“Still, I want to make it up to you,” I told her. There was no way to cope with this guilt in my chest, except to right every wrong, starting with worshipping Clara like she was supposed to be worshipped. I pushed myself up and over her, caging her between my arms. She looked at me with anticipation, a smile returning to her exquisite face.

“What does that mean?” she asked, breathless, as I lowered my face to her breasts again.

“It means, you lay there, and tap twice if it all gets too much,” I said, with a wicked smile, before dedicating myself to the task of melting Clara Winter.