Page 19 of Lust and Honor

I’ve never seen a man’s cock before, and the thought of something that size entering me makes every muscle in my body tightens with fear.

When he’s done stripping, he bends down, unbuttons my jeans, and tugs them down over my ass. His eyes stay locked on mine as he leans in and licks my clit. He drenches my flesh in his spit, pulling me right back to the edge of pleasure. My soft moans seem to hit just the right note for him. This time, he straightens up and peels both my jeans and panties all the way off, pulling them down my legs and tossing them aside.

He plants his knees on either side of me on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight, making my breasts jiggle. He slips his hands under my armpits and lifts me like I’m weightless, shifting me farther up the bed until I’m centered. His forearms brace beside my head like pillars, and this time, he kisses me with a raw, hungry edge, while his knees nudge my thighs apart.

I’m pinned beneath a man I barely know, yet instead of fear, all I feel is the desperate need to touch him. My hands roam over hard muscle and warm skin, tracing every inch of him. Beneath my fingertips, he feels like a living marble statue, carved to perfection. I doubt there’s a single ounce of fat on him.

His whisper brushes my ear, “What should I do with you first?”

He runs his thumb across my lips and growls like a lion, “I want to fuck your mouth, but I can’t wait for that pussy.”

He reaches out and grabs a condom from the dresser drawer. Settling between my legs, he rolls it on with deliberate care. My lungs tighten with anticipation, my heart pounding like it’s trying to break free. Down there, it’s like someone’s pried me open, waiting.

Once he’s fully sheathed, he drags his hand up and down my slit, grinning. “You’ve got a whole pool going down here, baby.”

That’s when I realize how wet I am. How much I want this. He positions the tip of his cock at my entrance and gives a gentle push inside. Instinctively, I grip his thighs, my voice a faint moan. “Please, go slow.”

He leans over me, hands cupping and kneading my breasts as he whispers, “I’m a lot of things, but slow isn’t one of them. I pay good money, and I fuck hard.”

His teeth sink into my lip just as he drives deep into me. The sudden stretch rips a cry from my throat, but he smothers it with a kiss, swallowing my moans against his mouth.

His lips stay on mine as he draws back, breath hot and ragged. “You’re really selling the innocent act, baby. Scream, cry, make it hotter for us.”

And with that, he slams into me again. The pain and pressure twisting through my body bring tears to the corners of my eyes, but he’s lost in his own world. He drives himself deep and fast, thrusting with a relentless rhythm, biting whatever’s in front of him—my shoulders, my arms, my breasts.

Low, guttural growls rumble from his chest with each stroke, and to my surprise, they turn me on all over again. The pain begins to blur into pleasure. Before I know it, I’m clawing at his arms, my nails leaving marks on his hard muscles.

In between thrusts, his hand finds my clit and starts rubbing, turning the pain into pleasure. When he moves his hand to knead my breasts, I reach down myself, rubbing my clit to chase even more ecstasy.

He shifts his weight from his left arm to his right, grabbing my hip and lifting it to thrust deeper. The new angle sends a sharp jolt of pain through me, and my cries grow louder. It only seems to please him, his breaths become short and ragged, and with a smug grin, he slams his hips into me even harder.

I slide my hand around his waist and press myself against him. The heat radiating from his body sparks something deep in my core, bringing the pleasure rushing back. This time, he slips one hand under my waist, pulling me fully into his embrace.

I hook my leg over his hip as he pants into my ear, “Look at me.”

I lift my head from the crook of his neck and meet his blazing eyes.

“Come,” he commands, his voice thick with intensity.

The moment those words hit my ears, my pussy tightens around his cock on instinct. The slap of skin against skin blends with the muffled pulse of rock music leaking in from outside. His scent is thick in the air, clouding my brain.

I feel the pressure of his finger teasing my ass, and then his rough voice again. “Come for me.”

That tension coiling deep inside me winds tighter and tighter. My head falls back against the sheets, mouth open in a silent scream, fingers and toes curling inward.

One hard thrust. “Fuck, I love this pussy,” he growls.

And then I break apart. My orgasm shatters me—screams tear from my throat, raw and uncontrollable. Maxim’s fingers dig into my flesh, almost painfully, as he lets out a primal roar, slamming into me one last time before burying his face in the crook of my neck.

Our bodies tremble for long, drawn-out moments, still tangled together, as pleasure fades into waves of burn and soreness where he’s still buried inside me. He groans deeply, pulls out, and I shiver from the sudden emptiness. He nips my earlobe gently before slapping my ass, hard enough to sting.

“I’ve got a call to make. Get in the shower, I’ll come find you.”

He rolls off the bed, strips off the heavy condom, ties it, and tosses it into the trash without a second glance.

“Looks like you’re starting your period,” he mutters casually.

Then he lights a cigarette from the minibar. As he dials a number on his phone, he snaps, “Why are you just sitting there? Move.”