as his thrusts became faster. I was going to come. I ran my hands over the backs of his thighs and to his firm behind, pulling him closer to me. Not believing it was even possible, I felt Arthur push into me deeper, and I cried out at the too-full feeling, at the mix of pain and ecstasy, of being held and controlled.
“I’m going to come,” I whispered, his hands on my neck inhibiting the volume of my voice. “Arthur, I’m coming …” I moaned, and I burst. I broke apart, my body blistering in heat and sensation, the euphoric orgasm taking me in its sharp-clawed hold.
Then Arthur’s hands tightened just enough to momentarily stop my breathing. The action only heightened the sensation, sending me soaring, head spinning, coming out of my skin. Then his hold loosened and I began to fall. I plummeted back into my body, breathing deeply, just to be flipped onto my front.
Arthur pushed me onto the table and slammed into me from behind. His hand wrapped around my hair, pulling the grips free, and his chest lay flush against my back. I was unable to move, locked in place, as Arthur fucked me. He did more than fuck me; he consumed me, owned me. He wrecked me. He’d told me he would.
No, he’d promised.
And he delivered.
Arthur thrust into me so hard that I felt a second orgasm building. I couldn’t stave it off, I couldn’t make it last. Arthur pulled the final ounce of pleasure from me as I lay paralysed beneath him. As my pussy milked his dick, he pulled on my hair and, with a savage growl, came inside me. He pushed into me a few more times, savouring the end of his orgasm. I sucked in a much-needed breath, head spinning with what had just transpired.
Arthur’s breathing was heavy, but he kept his hand in my hair, a silent warning to me not to move. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to break this moment. I had never been taken like that. Had no idea sex could be like that. Any expectation or fantasy I might have had about Arthur had just been obliterated.
How would anyone ever compare to him?
My palms were flat on the table beneath me, my cheek resting on the cold wooden surface. My hands were shaking, too much adrenaline running through my veins. After a few silent minutes, Arthur shifted, and I winced. He slipped out from inside of me, and wetness slipped down my thighs. I closed my eyes and thanked God that I was on the pill. I pushed away any other panic over the fact he had taken me unprotected and tried to stay in the here and now.
Then I felt a soft kiss on the centre of my spine. I froze.
For a second I believed I had dreamed it. Dreamed that the man who had just taken me so savagely was kissing me so softly. So affectionately. It was in such stark contrast to how he had treated me so far.
I held my breath, eyes non-blinking and fixed on the window of the yacht, waiting to see if he would do it again. His breathing was deep, his body heat like a heavy blanket above me. I didn’t take a single breath, just waiting, needing, searching … then he kissed the top of my spine, and I exhaled a shaky breath. Arthur’s hand was still in my hair. He pulled the long strands aside and kissed the pulse on my neck. My heart burst into a sprint as goosebumps raced over me.
I risked a glance at him, turning my body just a fraction so I could see his face. His cheeks were flushed. He was devastatingly handsome. Even when I was thirteen, I had found him so. And more so now that I had slept with him.
I swallowed back nerves, not knowing if he would order me from the yacht or coldly move from me, no more affection to be had. But behind the protection of his lenses, I saw deep blue eyes soften a little. Arthur dragged his thumb over my lips just as before.
“I want to ruin you,” he said, his deep gravelled voice rolling over my body with the headiness of a summer electric storm. His hard chest was still slick against my back, but he shifted enough that he could lean down to my mouth. And he took it. He kissed my lips, then plunged his tongue inside. His