on me. His muscled chest bumps into my back, and his fingers wrap around my upper arms as he shoves me forward and into the room.
Oh, god, it’s really happening.
“Fine, I’ll fuck you,” he growls venom in his words as he bends me over the back of the couch, pushing my face into a pillow. This isn’t how I imagined this would go the first time, but I’m not about to try and stop him. Keeping one hand between my shoulder blades to hold me in place, he uses his free hand to pull down my yoga pants and panties in one go.
Cool air hits my exposed center, and I realize that I’m already wet. My cheeks heat and a shiver runs down my spine as I anticipate what’s going to happen next.
Is he really going to do it? Is it going to hurt? Will it feel good? I wonder if I’m wet enough or if he plans to touch me?
All these questions swirling in my mind come to a stop when I feel his fingers between my thighs. Gently he strokes my folds, moving his fingers to my clit. Rubbing tiny circles against it, pleasure, like I’ve never experienced before, erupts from the tiny bundle of nerves, and I have to bite my lip to muffle a moan.
“You’re already wet for me, bug,” he says, his voice is so low and soft, it’s barely recognizable.
He never talks to me softly anymore. Everything about him now is harsh, domineering. Leaning in, he presses his chest against my back, molding us together, letting me feel his erection on my naked bottom. He’s still wearing his shorts, but the thin material doesn’t do much to hide how hard he is.
“How long have you been thinking about me fucking you?” he questions. His voice is barely above a whisper now, but the words are enough to make more moisture form under his touch. The truth is, I’ve thought about this for a long time. Wanted it since before everything fell apart. It was always going to be Jackson, always. I wanted him to be the one to take my virginity. Jackson doesn’t wait for my reply.
Maybe he knows I’m past words, or maybe he doesn’t care to hear my response. I don’t know. What I do know is he pulls away, his fingers between my legs disappear, and a moment later, they are replaced with the smooth tip of his cock.
“Are you on birth control?” he hisses through his teeth, sounding as if he’s barely restraining himself.
“Yes.” I sigh as he rubs his swollen tip through my arousal.
Guiding himself back to my entrance, I force a ragged breath into my lungs. The mushroom head of his cock feels huge, bigger than I expected. I get the feeling this is going to hurt, but I embrace the pain, welcome it. It’s better than the sadness, the heartache. Anticipation clings to my bones, but I don’t have to wait long.
Skimming his hand down my back, he enters me with one hard thrust and tears through my virginity with ease. He buries himself deep inside of me until his heavy balls press against my ass. Pain rips through me, and I whimper into the pillow, my hands clawing at the cushion as if it could save me from him. I feel like I’m being ripped in two, my insides shredded. Tears prick at my eyes, and I bite my lip to stop myself from screaming.
“Fuck, you feel good,” Jackson grunts behind me, his hands on my hips as he plows into me over and over again.
His strokes are hard, powerful, and they hurt, fuck do they hurt, but beneath the pain is a sliver of pleasure. It sneaks in between each stroke like a thief in the night, and I want both, need both. Feeling impossibly full, I hold on for dear life as he fucks me with primal, raw rage. He’s trying to imprint his hate on me, and I feel it. Feel every fucking lash as if he’s beating me, the belt hitting my skin, and leaving a mark behind.
Fingers dig painfully into my hips, and I know there will be bruises by the time we’re done. Heat blooms deep in my stomach, and slowly I loosen up, opening like a flower in full bloom. Jackson’s balls slap against my clit with each punishing stroke, and it’s enough friction to leave me panting, leave me craving more.
“I hate you,” Jackson growls, releasing my hips,