Page 40 of Lethal Devotion
I part her folds with the tip of my index finger, hearing her sharp intake of breath as I press it against her entrance, slowly sliding one finger into her. I’m instantly glad that I started with one—she’s unimaginably tight. I don’t know how I’d ever get my cock inside of her. She clenches instantly around my finger, like hot, wet velvet, and my cock jerks at the sensation, my entire body tensing at the thought of how good she’d feel wrapped around me.
I’ve never fucked a woman without a condom, but right now all I can think about is how badly I want to sink my bare cock into her, feel her wrapped around me, hot and wet and squeezing as I fuck her raw, as I fill her up with my cum until she’s dripping with it.
“Damian—” She breathes my name, her voice shaky, and I slide my finger deeper, stroking it into the tight clutch of her pussy as I press my thumb against her clit and roll it over the tight, swollen flesh.
Sienna lets out a cry, grabbing at my arm with one hand and my shoulder with the other, her hips instantly bucking against my touch. I repeat the movement, and her head falls back against the window, her mouth open in small, sharp pants as I curl my finger inside of her and begin a steady rhythm, thrusting one finger in and out of her as I rub her clit with the pad of my thumb.
She was wet when I started, but now she’s fuckingdripping. Her nails dig into the muscles of my arm and shoulder, my arm flexed as I work her, her arousal dripping over my hand. She's panting now, her chest rising and falling rapidly as I explore her with my fingers,clenching around the finger inside of her. She’s so goddamn tight. The realization of just how inexperienced she really is should give me pause, should make me stop, but instead it only makes me want her more.
I have a feeling I’m the first man to make her feel like this. The first one to make her dissolve into a wet, gasping, needy mess. The thought makes me impossibly hard, and only the knowledge in the back of my head that I have very few lines that I haven’t crossed now keeps me from sliding my cock into her.
That, and the fact that I have no idea if I could even manage it. She’s strangling my one finger.
“Does that feel good?” I ask as I increase the pressure and speed on her clit, knowing it’s a foregone answer but wanting to hear her say it. She gasps, nodding rapidly.
“It—ohGod, Damian, I didn’t know?—”
Those few gasped words confirm what I just thought, or at least part of it. “Come for me,milaya devochka,” I murmur, stroking my finger inside of her as I push upward on her clit. “Come all over my hand, sweet girl.”
Her mouth opens, her pussy fluttering around my fingers as I feel her muscles tense. “Let go, Sienna,” I command, my voice taking on an edge. “Come for me. Come for menow.”
Another suspicion confirmed, the one I had when I saw her reaction to my hand on her neck earlier. The command undoes her, sending her over the edge as her back bows and her nails dig so deeply into my flesh that she might draw blood, my name a keening sound in her mouth as she comes hard on my hand.
She’s so fucking beautiful when she comes. Her hair is a wild tangle around her face, her cum-soaked nightgown pushed up around her hips, and I feel her soak my hand with her arousal as she bucks and grinds against it, gasping and moaning as her orgasm rolls through her.
She’s a submissive, through and through. And I’ve never been so sure that I can’t touch her again, or let her touch me, after tonight.
The things I would want to do to her would ruin her. And thecombination of her youth, the power I have over her, and her natural submission are a dynamic that I can’t indulge, and feel like anything but a monster.
Her pleasure rolls over her, and she slumps back against the window, my fingers still buried inside of her as she looks up at me with hooded eyes. “Damian?—”
I step back, pulling my hand away from her. I can smell the scent of her arousal, thick in the air, and my cock throbs in response. Sienna glances down, seeing that I’m hard again, and when she starts to move, I shake my head firmly.
“No, Sienna.”
Maybe she’s too exhausted from pleasure to disobey, or maybe she feels she’s done enough for me tonight, but she obeys. The thought cuts through me like a knife, searing guilt following in its wake. I’ve fucked up, and now I have to figure out how to live with it. Giving her an orgasm made me feel a little better about my transgression, but it’s not enough. And I can’t let it happen again.
But I do need to know one thing.
“Sienna—” I watch her as she sits up, trying not to think about how it’s my cum soaked through her nightgown, how she’s painted with me, her skin underneath damp with it, marked by me. How I want to strip her naked and do it all over again, paint every inch of her tanned, freckled skin with cum. “Is that the first time someone’s ever made you come?”
She bites her lip, her eyes hooded still, and I narrow mine. “Answer me,kotenok.”
Sienna swallows hard. “Yes,” she whispers. “I’ve made myself… a few times. It’s difficult. But never with…” She chews on her lower lip, clearly wondering what I’ll think of that.
No one’s ever given her an orgasm before. I’m the first man who’s ever made her come.The thought is heady and arousing and intense, but I don’t touch myself. I’m not going to fucking come again tonight. It’s the least I can do, the least penance I can pay for what I’ve done.
I said I wasn’t going to take advantage of her, and here I’ve gone and given her the first orgasm she’s ever had with someone else.
“I didn’t know it could feel that good,” she whispers, and I fight back a groan.
“Damian?” She whispers my name, pushing herself off the windowsill, but I back away from her, reaching down and grabbing the towel, quickly wrapping it around my hips.
“Go back to bed,” I tell her curtly. “You’ve done enough tonight.”
I see the flash of hurt in her eyes, the startled look as she takes in the possible meaning of what I’ve just said, but she ducks her head, nodding before she turns to leave. I watch her go, knowing I should say something else, with no fucking idea of what that should be.
I wasn’t meant for a woman like her. I don’t know how to be gentle or tender. I don’t know what the right words to say are, how to comfort or how to love.
