“You want this?” he asks, guiding his cock more firmly in place. I stare down at where our bodies meet, and I realize just how big he is. I may not have ample sexual experience with humans, but I’m still shocked at his girth, how huge he looks as he runs the head over my slit.
I lift my gaze back to his and nod. “Yes.”
He pushes into me then, and I cry out as I feel my walls open around him, resisting at first, but taking him in one inch at a time as he pulls out and slides back in. Then, with a final thrust, he’s seated to the hilt. I bite back a whine, and he kisses the tip of my arched ear. “You all right?”
“More than all right,” I whisper back.
“Can I fuck you hard?”
I whimper. “Please.”
He pulls out and thrusts back in, but this time he doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down. My shoulders scrape against the wall, but I like how it feels, such a contrast to the pleasure building between my legs.
“Oh my God, Daphne, you feel so good,” he says, voice tight. “I can’t believe we’re doing this. I can’t believe you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” I say with a gasp, and he quickens his pace. Already I can feel another climax building, sparking hotter and hotter as every thrust reaches deeper inside me, hitting a place I’ve never felt before. Stars fill my vision, and I lower my mouth to his shoulder, my teeth grazing his salty flesh. Then I open my mouth wider, settle my teeth just a little firmer?—
“Don’t…”
He halts his thrusting, and terror runs through me as I realize what I was about to do. I’ve bitten a lover during sex before and it shattered the mood—and our relationship—at once.
Before panic can fully drain my lust, Monty speaks again, his voice strangled and breathless as he whispers in my ear. “Don’t bite down all the way until you’re ready for me to come. Because I won’t be able to hold back.”
Euphoria surges through my blood.
He isn’t disgusted by my yearning to bite him.
He’s turned on. So much so that the feel of my teeth will drive him over the edge.
If I wasn’t already building to another climax, I am now. He resumes his motions, slamming into me again with renewed vigor. I keep my mouth on his shoulder, tasting every quiver of his muscles, every ounce of restraint he’s utilizing to keep this going. My fingers weave into the hair at the base of his neck. He slides a hand between us, working my clit as he drives harder, faster. Just when I’m starting to unravel, I bite down on his shoulder. Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to hurt.
He moans, his pace stuttering. “Oh, fuck, Daphne. Where can I come?”
“Inside me,” I gasp. I’m already on the tonic and I’ll be damned if he robs me of the experience of him filling me up in every way.
His thrusts regain their steady rhythm as his fingertips continue to circle my clit. I whimper against his shoulder and bite down harder, marveling at the taste of his skin, the scrape of the wall against my ass, the fullness of him inside me. At his next deep thrust, my vision blurs, and I pulse around him, my release melting around his cock. I cry out his name, muffled against the skin I’m still biting. He comes next, filling me with a wet warmth that draws out my orgasm so long, it feels like it might never end. Our rhythm slows with his final pulsating thrusts. As we go still, our bodies quivering in an echo of our shared climax, I lick the place I bit and cover it with a kiss. He aids me down the wall, sliding out of me and setting my feet on the ground. There we press our foreheads together until we catch our breath, shuddering and sweat-slicked.
I don’t know how much time passes. Seconds. Minutes. Hours.
Then Monty slants his mouth against mine, and I feel him smiling against my lips. As he pulls away, his eyes dance with mirth. I’m shocked to see no sign of the bruising on his jaw. The cut over his brow has closed too, leaving only dried blood where it had been.
He steps back, slicks his hands through his messy hair, and heaves a joyful sigh. “Blazing hell, Daph, that was fucking incredible.”
I can’t agree with him more. Maybe not everyone would fancy their first time with the man they adore taking place in an alleyway, but I love everything we just did. Everything that we are together. Everything we might be. A scared part of my heart continues to shy away, reminding me our worries aren’t over yet. I still have a handfasting to sever, and Monty has a loan to pay, not to mention a familial relationship that holds him back. But those are worries for another day.
Monty must feel it too. He returns his eyes to mine, his smile softer now, but still genuine. “Let’s go home.”
“Home?” I echo.
His expression turns bashful. “It’s time I showed you my place.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
MONTY
The rain has stopped by the time we make our way out of the alley, our clothing haphazardly replaced. I reach for Daphne’s hand, and we walk side by side down the dark streets. It doesn’t take long for us to reach where the industrial district meets the business district, separated by a few streets of housing. My apartment is located amidst identical brick row houses. It’s nothing like Daphne’s street with its elegant streetlamps and sidewalks lined with well-kept shrubbery. Here the architecture is practical and utilitarian, catering primarily to those who work in the factories. No charming gables, no bright paint, no lovely window treatments. At least it’s quiet. Most of my neighbors who drink their workweek sorrows away do so on Rook Street, where the nearest pub is located. And they won’t be coming home until closing time.
We reach my building and quietly make our way up the front steps to the main door. I’m too anxious to see Daphne’s reaction, to note if she’s apprehensive about my unfashionable building. In my heart of hearts, I know she won’t judge. Still, she’s the first person I’ve ever brought here. I never had any intention of showing her my place, but I’m done hiding from her. I’m ready for her to see all of me.
