“I’m going to fuck your ass so good, amore mio. I’m going to push my thick cock into you and take your last first. I’m going to make your ass mine and pump my cum into you until your hole can’t hold anymore. I know you need me, but I won’t give you my cock until you’re dripping for me, desperate and needy. Once you’re all ready for me, I’m going to pin your legs to your chest and fill you. I’m going to give you exactly what you need, but not until you beg me for it.”
Is that what I need? My body is tense and yearning and needy, and god, I want something, but I’m not sure if that’s an orgasm or his dick inside me or what. But it’s something that I think only he can give me, and I want it now.
Pressure and burning pulse through my ass as he does something that drags me from the precipice of bliss, and I feel myself blink as insecurity starts to fester. Parting my lips, I try to speak, but his tongue laps at my clit, licking and circling, and I detonate, coming with a cry that is half pain, half pleasure, and all want.
Time loses all meaning as I beg and beg and beg Warrick, over and over, desperate and needy. So needy. One minute. Two. Five. Ten. More pass while he works my body until all I am is need. When his dick finally pushes into me, it hurts in the best way, burning heat and desire that morphs into an orgasm that blazes so bright I’m surprised sparks aren’t flying off me and setting the bed on fire.
I come so hard my muscles crack and burn while Warrick pumps into me, taking and claiming and owning my last first, my last virginity. I don’t know if I wanted this or if he wanted itand I wanted to give it to him, but who cares when it feels this good? This right?
His hips pound into me, but the harder he fucks me, the harder I orgasm, until my eyesight goes black and the sound of our bodies coming together becomes a distant buzzing inside my head while I slowly blink back to reality.
When I finally open my eyes, his lips are an inch from mine, his pupils blown wide and full of an emotion I don’t recognize.
“I love you. I know it’s too soon and too much, but fuck, I love you,” he rasps, his voice rough and ragged.
“You can’t love me,” I pant, a hint of hysteria seeping into my voice.
“I think I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you,” he says with a smile.
Shaking my head, I deny his words. This isn’t love. Not yet, at least. I don’t know what it is, but it’s not love.
My eyes drift closed, not sleeping, but not fully awake either. I’m only distantly aware of him slipping from my body, leaving me dripping and open and so lonely that silent tears fill my eyes and slide down my cheeks. Determined to hide the desolation I don’t understand, I roll toward him and let sleep drag me under.
The sun is high in the sky by the time I wake up again. I’m sticky, the dried sweat, arousal, and cum making my skin feel tight and itchy. My ass feels stretched and sore, and my muscles tighten with pain as I tentatively stretch my legs.
“Amore mio, let me help,” Warrick says, carefully repositioning me a little higher on the pillows as he reaches for a glass of juice, holding it to my lips.
I want to reject his help, but I don’t, allowing him to slowly tip the cool juice into my mouth. “I made us breakfast while you slept,” he says quietly, dragging a tray heaped with plates full of waffles, bacon, and berries up the bed toward us.
“I’m not hungry,” I say, my voice too quiet.
Ignoring me, he cuts off a bite-sized piece of waffle, dips it into the syrup, then brings it to my lips, patiently waiting for me to eat it.
The sight of it makes me…angry, but I don’t know why. It’s a waffle. He cooked for me, which should be a good thing, not something that makes me want to yell or cry or sling the whole tray across the room.
“You need to eat,” Warrick prompts sweetly.
But how does he know what I need? He said I needed him. He said I needed to give him my virginity. He said I needed to suck his cock, and then he said I needed to let him fuck my ass, but now all I feel is empty and sad. He told me I needed all these things that have made my emotions spike so high, and now so low, that I don’t know what to do or how to feel normal again.
I gave him everything he told me I needed, but now I need something else, and he’s offering me food. Since the moment he found me in my tent in the woods, he’s acted like he has all the answers. His certainty is part—no, most—of the reason I’m here with him right now. But what if he’s been wrong this whole time? What if all he wanted was a girl stupid enough to believe him when he told me he knew what I needed?
Scoffing lightly to myself, I ignore the fork he’s still holding at my lips and swing my legs off the side of the bed, not glancing at him as I make my way to the bathroom, closing the door behind me and sinking to the floor with the wood at my back.
Tears prickle, but my eyes stay dry and hollow. What’s wrong with me? Why do I feel so…empty?
Staring across the room, I zone out for a moment until the door rattles and moves behind me.
“Amore mio.”
“Verity.”
My name on his lips has me moving, and I clamber to my feet, opening the door and stepping past him into the bedroom.
“Tell me what you need,” he says, unknowingly making an ugly knot twist uncomfortably in my chest.
“I don’t know,” I admit, staring down at my body and wondering why I’m so unbothered by my nakedness. This morning I’d woken up early, taken a shower, and gotten dressed before he’d promptly undressed me again and pulled me beneath him the moment he’d opened his eyes.
I don’t think it’s the sex that’s made me feel this way. The sex was good…no, great. But now that the rush of orgasm emotions has faded, I don’t know what to do. Should I leave? I literally have nothing to give him. I have no money, no job, no prospects. Before two months ago, I based paying my bills and earning a living on being a virgin and teasing disgusting men into craving me.
