“My dick is the least of my fears. But fine, you want a cheap, meaningless fuck. Then I’m going to take you back to your room and fuck you.”
“Fine,” I replied and looked away, folding my arms over my chest. “Can’t wait. I need a good laugh tonight.”
“I promise you won’t be laughing.”
The short, ten-minute ride back to the hotel felt like five seconds. Five. My mind kept replaying his words about me throwing myself at men and then him telling me I was wrong to want to be desired sexually, followed by his confession that he wanted me but was unable to believe it.
Asshole. I really hope he doesn’t get it up so I can shove it in his face. Of course, that wasn’t true. My angry body was on fire for him. Hot, wet, carnal tension aching away between my legs. Did I hate myself for wanting him inside my body so badly?
No. Not even a little. The chemistry was too powerful.
The elevator doors slid open on our floor, and I marched to my room with a furious looking, but silent, Mr. Cole on my heels. When I pushed the door open, he shoved me inside and slammed it shut. His mouth was on my neck, his hands were on my tits, his body pressed against me, grinding and thrusting rhythmically.
Yes, he was hard. Really hard.
It took a moment to realize he was going through with this because he wanted to fuck me as much as I wanted to reciprocate.
Panting, I reached for his shirt and ripped it open, letting my hands grab a feel of those pecs.
“God, you fucking drive me crazy, Lily,” he panted against my neck and then yanked my dress down, popping the hooks from their stitches, and shoved the garment to the floor.
We both froze for a moment while he pulled back and stared at my chest. “Dammit. I could fuck those tits.”
He dipped his head, bathing the tops of my breasts in kisses while he expertly unhooked my strapless bra. Soon to follow were his expert licks and adoring sucks while I ran my hands through his thick short hair, pushing his mouth into my chest. I’d never had my nipples sucked, but I guessed that if a hundred guys had been put to the task, none of them would’ve compared to his swirling tongue and hot mouth.
He removed his lips and replaced them with his hands, massaging and pinching, while his hips ground and his mouth sucked the skin from my neck like a juicy buffalo wing.
“I want you, Lily. I fucking want you,” he panted, pinning my body against the wall like his personal dry-hump station.
I didn’t know the words to express my lust, but my body did. I shoved my hands down to his pants and ripped him free. He felt so hot and hard in my hands that I had to fight the urge to buckle at the knees and take him in my mouth again.
Before I could have my way, he yanked down my panties and bodychecked me to the wall, panting and kissing me like a hungry animal.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard that your dirty mouth won’t know what to say.”
“Do it,” I demanded. I was ready. So damned ready I was losing my mind.
With my thong now gone and his pants down, his arms reached down to my thighs and lifted me. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, feeling the tip of his shaft rubbing against my bud. Good God, he felt so good. He then reached under, gripped his cock in his hand, and found my ready entrance.
There were no words for what came next.
He thrust, but much too slowly, as if testing my readiness. But I didn’t want that. I’d always been a “rip the Band-Aid off” sort of person. Because nothing was worse than anticipating pain.
“I said ‘do it,’” I demanded, my tone egging him on before I lost my nerve. Or started thinking.
He hesitated for a moment, but then he gave me what I wanted. He slid all the way in with one smooth, firm stroke.
I screamed toward the ceiling, my body protesting from the painful, delicious intrusion. “Don’t fucking stop,” I said through my gritted teeth.
He withdrew and thrust again.
I moaned loudly, trying to process how the pain and pleasure felt like one giant sensation all scrambled together. He felt so good. So hard. So unrelenting.
“More,” I panted. “More.”
Still pinning me against the wall, I realized he’d been going easy on me.
His lips kissing my neck, his hips pounded into me, his balls slamming, his chest slapping, his arms flexing and holding me in place. I hung on tight, accepting the fact that the sexual pleasure of having Maxwell Cole unleash his lust on my body trumped any virginal pain I might be experiencing.
“Fucking hell, you feel so good.” He fucked his words into me.
I was so close I couldn’t speak.
“Come on, Lily, scream for me.” He pumped hard, and I realized he was waiting like a gentleman for me to come.
This was where my rational mind began to return and mingle with my sinful soul. Maxwell Cole’s hard, thick cock was inside my body, sliding and thrusting. He was likely ambivalent to the emotional impact of having just taken my virginity. Yet, he wanted this moment to be for me. That’s also when I realized he hadn’t put on a condom. It hadn’t even occurred to either of us. Lucky for him I was on the pill for nonsexual reasons, but it really was luck. Because this man had completely overridden my rational mind, and I’d overridden his. All I wanted was to fulfill this unyielding carnal need to feel him come inside me. I couldn’t explain it, and there was no excuse in this day and age, but it was what I wanted. Him. Me. Raw. And knowing his lust for me had made him just as reckless made me feel ten times more desired.
As these strange thoughts passed through me, I felt the sinful need building. I rocked my hips into him, and he pumped away at a ravenous pace, our naked bodies simultaneously giving and taking.
Then a big build started.
“Yes. Don’t stop, Max. Don’t stop,” I screamed his name as my body bucked and ground.
“Never. Fucking hell, never.” He hit hard, those biceps flexing, those abs contracting, those pecs protruding. Every inch of his sensual body was on display for my pleasure.
He rocked himself faster. “I’m going to come. Tell me you’re ready.”
Aspirational thoughts of prolonging the moment entered my head, but it wasn’t meant to be.
I came, my nails digging into his shoulders, my head pushed back while he hammered me like a nail into the wall.
It was a glorious, carnal moment of two people fornicating like animals. And when he’d pumped his last jet of cum inside me, groaning my name in a low, gravelly voice, my last orgasmic contraction subsided, and I knew I’d made a mistake.
No. Not just because he was my boss, but because he’d felt so good, so right.
And I’m not the girl for him.
He might be able to look at me with some effort, and fuck me, but that didn’t mean anything.
I would never be beautiful in his eyes. He would always be beautiful in mine.
Slowly, Max withdrew and lowered me. His hands then cupped my face, his eyes closed and his tongue sliding over my lips. “That was amazing,” he said with a deep, masculine breathy voice. “Better than amazing.”
I pulled away. “Please leave.”
A long moment of silence passed. “What’s the matter?” he whispered.
“Get out of my room.”
“What did I do?” he asked, and it was the first time he didn’t sound like the tyrant, but just a guy.
I sucked in a deep breath and let it out, still looking away. “You didn’t do anything, Mr. Cole. I just need to be alone.” I felt emotionally exposed, and I had no clue how to deal with it. I wanted him so badly that it hurt.
“Was I too rough on you?” He squeezed my shoulder, and I jerked away, shooting him a look.