Page 189 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 1

I explode. I scream. I thrash on his tongue as I cry out his name and god. I might be cursing, too. I lose it completely.

Then he pushes another finger inside me, and there’s no resistance. I’m wide open, and I’m so ready. Thrusting, he keeps eating me, and when he adds a third finger, I come again.

“Please,” I weep. “Please, take me. I need to feel you, see you. I need you, Stephan. I need you in me.”

He stands, takes a fistful of my hair, and pulls me to him, his other hand still pumping my tight channel. “There’s no turning back,” he growls. “I’ll make you mine, and you’ll stay mine forever.”

“Yes!” I cry. “I want you. I want everything. Take me. Take me away. I’ve never been more ready.” I’ll tell him anything he wants to hear. I need him so bad.

He removes his hand and pulls me by my hair until I stand before him, then he lets go, grabs my hands, and places them on his belt.

“Undress me, bunny. Touch me. Show me how ready you are.”

My hands shake when I pop open belt and buttons, when, to my surprise, I uncover a dark bush of hair and his thick, hard cock. No underwear. It’s indecent… vulgar, and it fits his persona perfectly.

I swallow hard and glance between it and his face.

“Put your hand on me.”

Exhaling shakily, I finger the hot silky skin. His pants still trap him partially but he yanks them down and his erection springs free—the source of all this mystery that is sex.

“Wrap your hand around the base and move up and down.” His voice, guttural, makes me dare, because he sounds like he needs me as badly as I need him.

I touch again, curl my fingers to circle him, then stroke. He emits a beastly growl, then grabs my hair again and puts his other hand between my legs, pushing inside.

“I’m taking you. All of you. Here.”

He thrusts his fingers inside me, more than being. He widens me for him. It stings, but it’s good, too.

“First time.” He grunts. “But not last. Enough!”

Effortlessly, he lifts me, one hand still in me, the other around my waist. A few steps through the little room, into the bedroom, and I’m thrown on my back on the bed, him following suit. He catches a nipple between his teeth, making me yelp, then bites and licks a path along my throat. He buries a hand in my hair, then I feel the too-thick head of his cock at my entrance. I panic then. It’s too thick. Too, too thick. He begins to push, holding my gaze.

I open my mouth to beg him to take it slowly. He knows already.

“I am,” he says. “Too long. You don’t even know how fucking much I’m holding back.” His arms, caging me, tremble.

“Then don’t,” I whisper. “Don’t hold back.”

His eyes glint with danger. Danger and death. With the ruthlessness I have sensed so many times, then he breaks me as he thrusts the rest of the way.

I scream. He puts a hand on my mouth. I thought I was ready. I wasn’t.

He doesn’t move. “Breathe, Summer. Breathe.”

I inhale with effort. Exhale. Then again. He bends to nip at my breasts, one first, then the other. I forget that brief, mad pain, and then he moves again.

Faster.

Faster.

Harder.

He’s not a gentle man. He is what he is. I knew it, but I didn’t understand the full extent of it.

Harder. He holds me down. The pain slowly makes way for something else. A rhythmic throbbing, a deep purr that builds. I wrap my legs around his waist and meet his thrusts, match them.

“Fuck, Summer.” His pace increases. He tenses, then he pulls out and spills floods of hot seed all over my stomach and belly before he falls on top of me and catches my mouth with his in our first kiss.

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