Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Idon’t really put must stock in virginity. I gave up religion when I lost my parents, but even if I hadn’t, I don’t think any gods out there really care about where or not I’ve had sex. The only ones who seem to care about purity are the people intent on controlling young women’s bodies. I don’t fuck with that nonsense.

I had sex for the first time right before I turned twenty. He was a nice guy who treated me with great care. I think he was more nervous than I was. We dated a few months and then went our separate ways with no hard feelings. So yeah, I don’t believe for a second that the first person you sleep with magically links you to them for the rest of your life.

But sitting here, playing out this fantasy with Devan, it feels particularly sexy to lean into those stereotypes, to put far more importance on my imaginary virginity than I ever did on the real thing.

Devan kisses my neck almost furiously. “I should take you to a bed. Should lay you down and touch you gently and treat you the way virgins should be treated.”

My breath catches in my throat. “But you’re not going to?” I sound far too hopeful, but I can’t help it. Yes, a little voice inside me chimes. Yes, make it dirtier. Treat me like your special little slut. The truth is that at nineteen, I would have laughed in his face if he tried to take care with me. I was still too raw and drunk on my newfound freedom, desperate for anything, anyone who would make me feel something and help me lose myself for a few hours.

“I should.” He shoves two fingers into me. “I’m supposed to take care of you.” He fucks me slowly with his fingers, and I’ve never been so grateful for a mirror before. I’m a visual person. I always have been. Seeing him touch me like this only adds to the pleasure of feeling it happen.

I will never be a woman who wants to fuck with the lights off.

“So take care of me.”

Devan keeps finger fucking methodically, working a little deeper each time. Then he adds a third finger. “Can’t believe no one’s had this pussy before,” he growls. “You feel so fucking good, so wet and tight.”

“You feel good, too.” I’m gasping, writhing around his touch, but he holds me too firmly to do anything but go at his pace. “I need more.”

“Need to go slow. Get you ready.”

I give a frustrated sound and reach behind me. Devan loosens his hold enough to allow me to undo his pants. All a game. Protest, protest, protest. But we both know the truth; we’re both dying to get him inside me properly. I free his cock and freeze. “You’re too big.” My trepidation isn’t entirely feigned. I’d forgotten for a moment. It’s going to take work to make him fit.

Devan shifts and pulls a small bottle out of his pocket. I frown at it in the dim light. “What is that?”

“Lube. It’ll help.” He guides me up a bit so he can rearrange his cock to a better angle.

I stare as he spreads lube over himself in economical movements. “You brought lube with you.”

“A last minute purchase.”

Ah. That makes more sense. Hauling condoms around makes more sense than hauling lube around, but then again, if someone is Devan’s size, maybe that’s something they need to have on hand. The thought might make me laugh if I wasn’t staring so hard at his cock. I swear he’s gotten bigger since I had him in my mouth.

He wraps one giant hand around my hip and uses the other to guide his cock to my entrance. “Go slow. You control the pace.”

I sink down slowly, stopping when just the head of him is inside me. Part of me wants to rush this, but we’re playing a game. “You’re too big.”

“Getting cold feet, birthday girl?” His grip tightens on my hip and he pulls me another inch down his length. I whimper. Devan works me another inch down his cock. God, he’s huge. The fit is uncomfortable, and if I didn’t like a little pain with my pleasure, it might be too much. “I should stop,” he growls. Another inch. “Tell me to stop.”

“Stop,” I say immediately. It comes out more like a question.

Devan meets my gaze in the mirror. I can clearly read his expression. Stop doesn’t mean stop. Red means stop. I give a little nod and he yanks me another inch down his cock. “I can’t stop. You feel too good. You can take a little more, can’t you?”

“Yes,” I sob out.

He keeps working me down his length, one slow inch at a time. His words get rougher with each second that ticks past. “Flaunting this hot little body in front of the entire bar. Practically inviting someone to stick their cock in you. To fuck right there in front of everyone. Would you like that?” He grabs my other hip and slams me the rest of the way down, sheathing himself entirely.

I cry out and writhe, though I can’t tell if I’m trying to get closer to trying to get away. He’s so impossibly deep. It’s like his cock is possessing me, marking me as his in way I don’t know how to deal with. “No. Just you.”

“That’s right. Just me.” His grip eases a little bit and he skates his hands up my sides to cup my breasts. “It doesn’t matter what other cocks you ride, birthday girl. No one is going to fuck you as deep as me. This pussy is mine now. It always will be.” He tugs the straps of my swimsuit, loosening them enough to pull my top off, and then repeating the process with my bottoms.

I stare at our reflections. I look exactly like the little slut I feel. Naked against his clothed body. Heat lances me and I relax into it. The fit of him inside me eases a little, edging into pure pleasure. I shiver. “It feels good.”

“It’s going to feel better.” He lifts a hand to press two fingers to my lips. I suck him deep, and his cock pulses inside me. Devan takes his wet fingers and lightly strokes my clit.

He’s right. It does feel better.

With every little circle he traces, I lose another layer of coherency. I forget we’re playing a game. I forget that this is temporary. I forget everything but reaching the pinnacle. “More.” I lean back against his shoulder and focus on riding his cock as much as he’ll allow. He keeps me pinned down, keeps himself sheathed to the hilt as he pushes me closer and closer to orgasm. “More,” I cry.

“Greedy girl.” He releases my hip. “You want more? Take it.”

I immediately lean forward and brace myself on his thick thighs. I can’t lift myself entirely off his cock, and I have the borderline hysterical thought that he could keep me pinned like this indefinitely. My feet barely touch the ground. All he’d have to do is spread his thighs a little more and I’d be completely at his mercy until his body gives out.

Even the little friction I manage on my own, lifting myself a few inches off him and slamming back down, nearly makes my eyes roll back in my head. “Oh god.”

“Not god, Hazel. Me.” He keeps up those devastating strokes to my clit, easily matching my pace. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to.”

“Devan,” I moan. “Yours. It’s yours. I’m yours.”

“That’s right.” His voice goes rougher yet. “That’s fucking right. Now come all over my cock like the little slut you are.”

I keep fucking him as much as I’m able, and he keeps at my clit. I look at myself in the mirror. From this angle, I can’t see where we’re joined properly, and I suddenly want to. I want to see his massive girth disappear into my pussy. I want to watch my body take him, inch by unending inch. I drag in a breath. “I want you to fuck me again, Devan.”

“I’m fucking you right now.”

“Again,” I repeat. “But I want to film it. Watching is so hot, I want to keep it forever.”

He pauses. For one breathless moment, I think I’ve somehow gone too far, but then Devan bands an arm around my waist and surges up. He was letting me control everything before, but that’s over now. He fucks up into me and even with the restricted mobility of this position, I feel entirely owned by him.

I come so hard, I shriek. Devan barely hesitates. He lifts me off him and switches our position, tumbling me onto the couch and kneeling between my thighs. He guides his cock back into me and uses his palms to press my legs up and out, holding me open for him as he fucks me. “This is what you want to see.”

I stare down to where we’re joined. His cock saws into me, unbelievably big, my orgasm soaking both of us. “Yes,” I gasp. “More.”

“So fucking greedy. So demanding. You sure you’re a virgin, birthday girl? Because you take this cock like you’ve done this before.” He picks up his pace, borderline pounding into me. “Just. Have. To. Get. Deeper.” Devan surges forward and I swear to god I feel him in the back of my throat.

I come again. This time, there’s no shriek. I make a choked sound and my body clenches so hard my brain shorts out. He curses and pulls out, jacking his cock in rough, furious movements. On the second stroke, he orgasms, his come lashing my lower stomach and pussy. Devan gives one last stroke and then drags his cock down my slit.

I can’t stop shaking. “Holy shit,” I whisper. “Holy shit.”

Devan’s exhale sounds just as shaky as my body. “Yeah.” He meets my gaze. “You okay?”

“Okay?” I blink slowly. It feels like my words are being pulled through taffy. “I don’t think okay is the word. I think I just had an out-of-body experience.”

His expression eases and he shakes his head. “That about sums it up. Don’t move.”

“Couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

He leverages himself to his feet, tucks his cock away, and heads in the direction of the bedroom. I lift my head enough to look at myself in the mirror. My body looks as deliciously boneless as I feel, slumped against the couch with my legs spread and Devan’s come all over my pussy.

Just…wow.

Am I really going to survive five—no, four—more times of this?

More, how the hell is normal sex supposed to measure up to this? He might have been saying all that in the heat of the moment, driven on by the fantasy, but that doesn’t make any of it less true. Devan might really have just ruined me for other partners.

I close my eyes and let my head fall back against the couch. It’s too late to worry about it now. If it ends up being the case, then starting tomorrow I’ll just do what I’ve always done.

Pick up all my broken pieces and keep moving.