Chapter five
1035 Words
Chapter five
Blake stands naked beside the bed. I keep my eyes fixed on his chest, too terrified to lower my gaze and see the size of him.
He leans down, burying his face in the crook of my neck. His hot breath sends shiver after shiver across my skin. His fingers slide down between my thighs, finding my center.
Before I can draw a full breath, he begins to rub my c**t with a steady, rhythmic pressure.
Heat floods through me—an intense wave of arousal I've never felt in my entire life. I grip the bedsheets so hard my knuckles turn white, biting my lip to suppress the screams building in my throat.
My eyes squeeze shut. The blunt head of his d**k presses against my entrance, and panic flashes through me. My body goes rigid. He shifts his weight, hovering over me so he doesn't crush me under his heavy frame.
Sliding in slowly, the stretch feels overwhelming.
"Open your eyes, Diana," his voice commands, low and firm. "I don't take you with your eyes closed. I want to see every reaction."
I force my eyelids open and meet his dark gaze, still burning with an almost frightening hunger.
"Ahh!" A sharp, tearing pain cuts through me like a razor blade. I jerk back against the mattress.
He pulls out instantly. "Sorry," he whispers against my temple.
The soft word catches me off guard, warming something deep in my chest. He kisses me deeply, his large hand gently squeezing my breast to distract me.
I can see the sheer impatience in his eyes, yet he forces himself to wait, letting the sharp sting subside.
Slowly, he thrusts back in, his eyes locked onto mine.
The pain flares up again, tearing through my body. I scream, grabbing the sheets like the fabric can somehow absorb the agony. This time, he doesn't pull back. He pushes deeper, every inch bringing a fresh wave of hurt.
"Blake, please! I can't take it!" Tears spill over my eyelashes, burning my cheeks.
He sees my tears. He pulls back just an inch and pushes back in before I can catch my breath. A sharp pop ripples inside me as he breaks through my hymen, driving all the way home. I panic and push against his firm chest, trying to shove him off.
Without a word, he grabs the silver handcuffs from the bed. He pins my wrists together and cuffs them to the headboard above my head, leaving me completely powerless beneath him.
At first, the invasion is pure agony. But as he begins to move, The sharp, tearing pain slowly dulls into a heavy, throbbing heat.
My mind screams at me to fight, to remember who this man is and the contract I signed. But my body completely betrays me. Every time he moves, a confusing, intense friction sparks deep inside my stomach.
I bite my lip, trying desperately to suppress the noise rising in my throat. I don't want him to know. I don't want him to hear what he's doing to me. But my wrists are locked above my head, leaving me completely open, completely helpless.
He reads the change on my face instantly. His thrusts grow harder, deeper.
A sharp, sudden pressure builds at the base of my stomach, heavy and overwhelming. I panic, gasping for air as my body tightens to fight it off.
"Blake—stop, I can't—"
"Don't fight it," his voice rumbles against my ear, his hand tightening on my hip. "Let go, Diana."
Tears slip down my cheeks—not from pain anymore, but from the terrifying loss of my own control. My body surrenders. A sudden, scalding wave crashes through my core, and my entire frame shudders in a wild, helpless climax. Blake lets out a dark growl, thrusting deep one last time as he releases inside me.
He rests his forehead against mine, his heavy chest rising and falling against my skin.
Then he stops.
His eyes drop to the sheet between us. His breathing hitches, and his whole body locks up.
He looks at the faint red mark on the white fabric, then slowly raises his gaze to my face. His eyes scan my wet cheeks and my wrists pinned above my head.
Without a word, he reaches up. His thumb presses the tiny button on the handcuffs. The metal clicks open. He takes my hands and places them down on the mattress beside me.
He turns and sits on the edge of the bed. He stays there, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, staring down at his bare feet on the rug.
"Why didn't you tell me you were a virgin?"
His voice is low, almost a whisper.
I pull my hands down to cover my chest and turn my head away, letting my hair fall over my face.
The room stays quiet. He doesn't move for almost a minute.
Then he stands up, pulls his pants on, and buttons them. He reaches into his jacket pocket, pulls out a small foil packet, and places it on the nightstand.
"Take those."
He picks up his shirt from the floor, walks out, and the door clicks shut behind him.
Did I ruin it? Did I fail to satisfy him?
That's why I never wanted him to find out in the first place—I was afraid I'd be too awkward, or that he might be disappointed in me.
Tears well up in my eyes again, pouring down my face. I ruined the very first night. I couldn't even handle the task properly. Tomorrow morning, he's going to throw me out, and I have no idea how I'm going to pay back the advance money I already spent.
My eyes fall on the small packet on the bed. Contraceptive pills.
I swallow hard, wiping my cheeks with my bare shoulder. The last thing I need is to get pregnant with his child.
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