5

Bianca

He removes his fingers, leaving me feeling suddenly empty and bereft. Before I can protest, he grips the sides of my dress and pulls it down over my hips. It pools at my feet, a black puddle on the cream carpet. I am left in only my sheer black lace panties. He hooks his thumbs into the sides and slides them down my legs. I step out of them, standing completely naked before him.

His eyes roam over my body, a slow, possessive perusal. There is no judgment in his gaze, only a raw, hungry appreciation that makes my skin flush. He looks at me like I’m a masterpiece he’s about to defile.

He takes a step back and starts to undress. His movements are efficient, economical. He shrugs off his suit jacket, letting it fall to the floor. He loosens his tie, pulling it over his head. His fingers make quick work of the buttons on his shirt, revealing the hard, sculpted planes of his chest and abdomen. My breath catches. He is magnificent. His skin is a warm olive tan, stretched over solid muscle. A network of black tattoos covers one of his pecs and snakes down his arm, intricate and beautiful, telling a story I can’t yet read.

He kicks off his shoes, unbuckles his belt, and lets his trousers fall. He stands before me in only a pair of black boxer briefs, the fabric straining to contain his massive erection. My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears, a frantic, panicked rhythm. This is the moment of truth. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband and pushes the briefs down.

His cock springs free, and I can’t stop the small, sharp intake of breath. He is huge. Thick and long, with a prominent vein that runs up the underside. The head is a dark, flushed purple, already beading with a clear drop of fluid. He is fully, powerfully erect, a testament to his desire for me. A thrill of fear, sharp and exhilarating, slices through me. He is going to take my virginity. The thought is both terrifying and electrifying.

He sees the look on my face, the flicker of fear and awe. A slow, arrogant smirk plays on his lips. He knows the effect he has on women. He steps forward, closing the distance between us, and cups my face in his hands. His thumbs stroke my cheekbones. “Don’t worry, little bee,” he says, his voice a low, soothing rumble. “I’ll make you feel good.”

He lowers his head and kisses me. This time, it’s a real kiss. His lips are firm and demanding, his tongue tracing the seam of my mouth before plunging inside. He tastes of wine and power, a heady, intoxicating combination. I kiss him back, my arms wrapping around his neck, my fingers tangling in the soft hair at the nape of his neck. I pour all my nervous energy, all my feigned and real desire, into the kiss.

He walks me backward, his lips never leaving mine, until the back of my knees hit the edge of the large, plush couch. He gently pushes me down until I’m sitting, then he kneels on the floor in front of me. He spreads my legs wide, his dark eyes fixed on the most intimate part of me. I feel exposed, vulnerable, but the look in his eyes isn’t mocking. It’s reverent, hungry.

He leans forward, and I feel the first hot, wet swipe of his tongue against my folds. A choked cry escapes my lips. It feels incredible. He licks me again, a long, slow, deliberate stroke from my entrance to my clit. He’s not in a hurry. He’s savoring me, learning my body, mapping every sensitive spot with his tongue. He circles my clit, then sucks it into his mouth, flicking it with the tip of his tongue.

My hands fly to his hair, my fingers digging into his scalp. I’m writhing on the couch, my hips bucking against his face, completely lost to the sensation. He holds me down, his strong arms pinning my thighs open, his mouth working its magic. He pushes his tongue inside me, fucking me with it, and the pleasure is so intense it’s almost painful. I can feel the tension coiling in my stomach, building higher and higher, threatening to snap.

Just when I’m on the brink, he pulls away. I let out a frustrated whimper, my body trembling with unfulfilled need. He looks up at me, his chin glistening with my juices, a dark, triumphant gleam in his eyes. He enjoys my desperation, my complete surrender to his pleasure.

He rises to his feet, his magnificent body looming over me. He grabs my hips and pulls me to the edge of the couch, positioning me just how he wants me. He spreads my legs wide again, one hand gripping my thigh, the other wrapping around his thick cock, guiding it to my entrance.

I hold my breath, my body tensing in anticipation. He rubs the head of his cock through my slick folds, coating himself in my wetness. The friction is maddening. I need him inside me, now.

“Look at me,” he commands, his voice low and rough.

I force my eyes open, meeting his intense, dark gaze. He holds my stare as he begins to push forward. The pressure is immense, a thick, relentless intrusion. My body resists, a natural, instinctive clenching of muscle. He’s too big. It’s too much.

He doesn’t stop. He pushes harder, and with a sharp, burning pain, he breaches me. I cry out, a raw, pained sound. He’s inside me. The feeling is overwhelming, a mix of searing pain and a strange, full sensation. He doesn’t give me time to adjust. He pushes deeper, burying himself to the hilt in one long, powerful stroke.

“Ahh…”

I scream, a loud, piercing sound that is torn from my throat. It hurts. It burns. My body is being split apart. My hands fly to his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin, gripping him like a lifeline. He’s so deep, I can feel him pressing against my cervix, a deep, aching pressure.

He stills for a moment, his body taut above me. Then he lowers his head and captures my lips in a deep, possessive kiss, swallowing my cries of pain. It’s a distraction, a way to claim my mouth while he claims my body. I kiss him back desperately, my body trembling beneath him.

He starts to move. He pulls out almost all the way, then slams back into me. The pain is still there, but it’s beginning to change, morphing into something else, a dark, pleasurable ache. He sets a brutal, punishing rhythm, fucking me hard and deep, just like I asked him to. He doesn’t know I’m a virgin. He thinks I’m just another woman, another conquest. The thought is a strange, bitter pill to swallow.

“Fuck, bee, you’re so tight,” he grunts, his voice strained with pleasure. He sounds surprised, impressed. He pulls out of me suddenly, and I gasp at the sudden emptiness.

He looks down, and his eyes widen. I follow his gaze. A smear of bright red, stark against my pale skin and his dark cock. Blood. My blood.

The brutal rhythm stops. The confident, predatory mask cracks, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated shock. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice barely a whisper. “You were a virgin?”

His eyes fly to mine, and the shock is quickly replaced by a deep, piercing concern. It’s the last thing I expected to see. I’m shivering, my body trembling uncontrollably from the aftershocks of pain and pleasure and adrenaline. I can’t speak. I can only nod, a small, jerky movement of my head.

His expression darkens. He looks angry, but not at me. “You should’ve told me,” he says, his voice rough, laced with something that sounds suspiciously like regret. He gently brushes a stray strand of hair from my sweaty forehead. His touch is surprisingly tender.

Before I can respond, he captures my lips again. This kiss is different. It’s not brutal or possessive. It’s gentle, almost apologetic. He shifts his position, hooking his arms under my knees, spreading me even wider. He enters me again, slowly this time, carefully, as if he’s afraid I might break.

The initial sting is still there, but it’s fading fast, replaced by a deep, throbbing pleasure as he fills me completely. He starts to move again, his strokes slower, deeper, more deliberate. He’s watching my face, his dark eyes searching mine, gauging my every reaction. He angles his hips, and with each thrust, he hits that spot inside me, the one he found with his fingers.

The pleasure builds again, faster this time, more intense. The pain is a distant memory, a ghost of a sensation. All I can feel is him, the thick, hard length of him moving inside me, the friction, the pressure, the overwhelming, all-consuming pleasure. My body arches off the couch, my head thrown back. My hands grip his biceps, my nails digging into his hard muscle.

“That’s it, little bee,” he murmurs, his voice a low, encouraging rumble. “Come for me. Let me feel you.”

His words are my undoing. The tension that has been coiling in my stomach finally snaps, and I’m thrown over the edge into a blinding, earth-shattering orgasm. It rips through me, a violent, convulsive wave of pleasure. My inner muscles clench around him, a series of powerful, rhythmic spasms. I scream his name, a raw, desperate cry that echoes in the opulent suite.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Leonardo!!!”

The pleasure is so intense, so overwhelming, that it shatters something inside me. The carefully constructed walls of my composure crumble into dust. The mission, the danger, the lies—it all fades away, leaving only the raw, aching pleasure and the man who gave it to me. And then, the tears come. They start as a few hot, salty tracks down my cheeks, then turn into full, body-racking sobs. I’m crying from the intensity of the orgasm, from the pain, from the sheer, terrifying emotion of it all.

He doesn’t pull out. He keeps moving, drawing out my pleasure, his own release building. He wraps his arms around me, holding me tight against his chest as I sob. He buries his face in my neck, his own breathing harsh and ragged. With a final, deep groan, he finds his own release, his cock pulsing inside me, filling me with his heat.

For a long moment, we just lie there, a tangled, sweaty mess of limbs on the couch. The only sounds are my ragged sobs and his heavy breathing. He holds me, his strong arms a comforting weight around me. He gently strokes my hair, his touch infinitely gentle.

He presses a soft kiss to my forehead, his lips warm against my skin. “It’s okay,” he whispers, his voice a low, soothing murmur in my ear. “I’ve got you. It’s okay.”

And in that moment, held in the arms of the man who is my boss, I almost believe him with my virginty.

How will I face him from now on?