Page 132 of Stalking Ginevra

What the hell does that mean?

“Is that an invitation?” I growl.

Hips rocking, breath quickening, she licks her lips, each movement telling me what words don’t. Her need burns as hot as mine, undeniable and raw. Sensation hits me so fast, I drop the knife. It’s all the justification I need for what comes next.

This is real. She wants it. This is happening.

My cock throbs painfully against my groin protector, straining to be freed. But as I unclip its fastenings, my fingers falter for a second. I’ve never done this before.

Realization trickles through my skull, unsettling and heavy. This is my first time. My first moment of truly being with her. Of being with anyone.

After this, nothing will ever be the same.

The weight of losing my virginity hits me harder than I expected. I wanted our first time to be on our wedding night, with me peeling off her white gown, making professions of love.

But she’s no longer that Ginevra. She belongs to Brisket. To Capello. To any other edgy bastard she finds exciting.

Need outweighs my jealousy. I have to be inside Ginevra, to claim her, to finally have what I’ve been denied for so long. My breath hitches as I free my cock, exposing it to the cool air.

Positioning myself between her spread legs, I rub my tip against her slick, heated folds. She shivers at the contact, gasps when my crown grazes her swollen clit, and her hips rise for more.

Her eyes are on mine, wide and scared and full of anticipation. I can’t help but groan.

“Is this what you want, little Ginny?” I growl. “Bob Brisket’s cock?”

“Shut up,” she snaps.

I chuckle, the sound bitter. “That doesn’t sound like a no.”

When I press my cock head against her entrance, skimming her warmth and her wetness, she rocks into my touch.

Fuck. She’s slick, inviting, and so ready for me, that I can’t help but let out a grunt of approval.

I swallow hard, my throat dry. Heart racing, my fingers tighten on her hips. Will she notice I’ve never done this before? Will she laugh?

When she makes an impatient noise in the back of her throat, I thrust forward, hard and fast, burying myself deep inside her sweet cunt in one rapid motion.

She cries out, her body arching off the stairs, her heat enveloping my cock, those walls clamping down in a way that’s so tight, so perfect, that I can barely breathe. A groan rips from my throat. The sensation is overwhelming. It’s more than I imagined.

I stay still for several rapid heartbeats, my cock buried deep, savoring the feeling of finally being inside her, reveling in the overwhelming bliss. My first time, and it’s with the only woman in my existence. Ginevra thought she could run, but she always belonged to me.

The satisfaction of that thought falls flat, because now that I’ve tasted Ginevra, I would give my soul to have her again and again. I’ve spent years building walls, staying untouchable, yet this taste of heaven leaves me vulnerable.

Ginevra’s breath hitches. Her body tightens and trembles around me as if she’s resisting the urge to move. She grips the banister like it’s an anchor keeping her from being swept into the waters of infidelity, but she’s already drowning.

I pull back and thrust into her again, harder this time, trying to chase this incessant longing. She gasps, her body jerking beneath mine, and I keep going. We build a rhythm, each thrust delivering shockwaves of unbridled pleasure.

As I work myself toward a climax, my self-control slips.

“Who do you belong to,” I growl, my voice thick with desperation. I need her to say it. To make a decision. To let me know if I’m wasting my time being fixated on a woman so fickle.

Either she doesn’t want to answer or she can’t. Her breath comes in ragged gasps, her body jerking with each snap of my hips.

I fuck her harder, faster, losing myself in the whirlpool of her heat, her scent, the way she fits so perfectly around my shaft. My mind tumbles, my thoughts crashing into each other like waves on a stormy sea. I lose sight of everything but Ginevra.

Through gritted teeth, I groan out once more, “Who do you belong to, little Ginny?”

Her body arches, her pleasured cry fills the air. But just as I think she won’t answer, won’t give me the satisfaction, she gasps out between ragged breaths.

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