For the First Time: Twenty-One Brand New Stories of First Love (18 page)

She grips my long hair, pulling me to her breast. I bite her nipple as she moans. “Please, Ethan. Please.”

Reaching down between us, I feel her hard clit coated in our combined passion. She’s close to the edge, and I’m just as ready as she is. I want to spill my cum inside her little body and breed with her.

Strumming her clit, I feel her legs tighten around my waist, and her back bows off the bed. I thrust hard three more times before I’m grunting out my release inside her clenching pussy. Her pulses pull my cum inside her, and it makes me even harder.

Once she’s come down from her peak, I quickly pull out and turn her over, helping her get on all fours. I thrust my wet cock back inside her warmth and start to fuck her from behind.

“Again, Ethan?”

“I heard doggy-style gives you boys. Just trying to cover the odds.”

Tiffany laughs and buries her face in the pillow, pushing her ass against me. Leaning down, I kiss her shoulder and place small bites along her back. “Is this everything you wanted, Bunny?”

She turns back to look at me and smiles. “It’s more than I dreamt it could be. Thank you, Ethan.”

Holding her to me as we make love, I whisper in her ear, “You’re my first and only, love. Forever.”

*     *     *

Want more from Alexa Riley? Meet a gorgeous, obsessive, billionaire alpha and a curvy, sassy bombshell from the wrong side of the tracks in
The Virgin Duet
.

WEBSITE
 |
FACEBOOK
 |
TWITTER
 |
NEWSLETTER

Julia Sykes

S
mith’s hard chest
muffled my terrified scream. His corded arms tightened around me, holding me through my nightmare. I inhaled his whiskey and amber scent, the familiar smell grounding me to the present. A relieved sob caught in my throat, and I molded my body to his, as though I could sink into him if I just got close enough. I needed his strength, because mine was in tatters. Dark memories assailed me, as sharp as they had been when Smith first found me.

“Keep your eyes closed, whore. If you look at me, I’ll make sure you never see anything again. And if I hear you utter one word without express permission, I’ll cut out your tongue.”

“But, Sir… she’s my property. I like how she looks. I don’t want her permanently damaged.”

“Do you want a pretty whore or an obedient slave?”

I shuddered and kept my eyes squeezed shut. I wouldn’t open them. I didn’t want them to hurt me.

The harsh scent of damp concrete; the bite of the cuffs; the burn of the lash.

Screams; begging; laughter.

Broken.

“Look at me.”

I couldn’t resist his rumbling command, and I didn’t want to. My eyes found his, and I fell into their molten silver depths.

“Breathe. I’ve got you.”

I heaved in a shuddering breath. His thumb brushed hot tears off my cheeks.

“I’m right here,” he promised. “I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you. Who am I?”

“Master,” my whisper trembled with residual fear.

His long fingers played through my hair in a familiar, soothing motion. So different from the cruelty I’d known in captivity; so different from
Him
…

“No,” Master growled. He caught my chin between his thumb and forefinger, trapping my face so I couldn’t look away from him. “You stay here with me. That bastard will never hurt you again. I took care of him for you, remember?”

The stark memory of my former Master’s—no, Martel’s—body lying broken and bloody on the concrete floor of my prison filled my mind. The gory scene comforted me. He was gone. He didn’t have power over me anymore.

“Thank you.” Gratitude toward the man who had saved me swelled in my chest. I drew in another shaky breath, his steady gaze grounding me to the present.

His mouth descended on mine in a brief, tender kiss. “I’ll always be here for you,” he murmured, his lips vibrating with the intensity of his promise. “He’ll never touch you again.”

“I know. I hate that I still dream about them. I hate that it’s like they’re still inside me somewhere. I don’t want them to own any part of me.” My eyes searched his. “I only want to be yours.”

“
Them?
” he questioned, some of his anger spilling over to roughen his tone.

I swallowed, trying not to let his sudden ferocity affect me. It was undeniably intimidating, and I was in a fragile state.

He sighed, and his fingers resumed stroking me. Still, I could feel the tension he held in his muscles.

“The Mentor is gone, too,” he reminded me.

I nodded. The man who had taught my captor everything he knew about torture had also been brought to justice.

“I remember. I just wish I could stop the nightmares.”

His lips twisted in a small frown. “I wish I could, too.” He touched the green tourmaline gem that always decorated my throat, the eternal symbol that I belonged to him. As his eyes focused on it, the tension drained out of him. He needed the reminder of our bond as badly as I did. I covered his hand with mine, curling his fingers around the necklace so we both held it.

“I love you,” my voice broke with the strength of my emotions. My love was all encompassing. Without it, I wouldn’t be
Lydia.
I would be nothing, no one; I’d still be the degraded slave he’d found at the BDSM club, Decadence, over two years ago. He’d forced the shattered pieces of my soul back together, and for that my love for him bordered on obsession.

“I love you, too,” he swore.

The intensity of his feelings matched mine. In a way, I had saved him, too. We couldn’t exist without one another.

His lips came down on mine, capturing them with almost bruising force. I opened for him, and his tongue surged inside to claim me. I needed to feel his raw power, to kiss him with the same desperation he showed me. If he could consume my entire world, he could make me forget all the bad things that had happened to me.

As he thoroughly dominated my mouth, he rolled atop me, his hard body pressing my softer one into the mattress, trapping me with his weight. I reveled in the feel of him hemming me in, overwhelming me with his fierce brand of possessive love.

His fingers wrapped around my wrists and pinned my arms to the bed on either side of my head. I moaned into his mouth as I sank into submission, my mind floating away into a more peaceful place, where no fear could exist. There was only his will, his love. I threw myself into it, eagerly surrendering.

His hard cock pressed into my thigh, straining toward my slick entrance. I was wet and ready for him, my body responding with conditioned immediacy. He’d trained me to crave him, and my sex heated for him at the slightest touch.

I shifted my hips, spreading my legs and inviting my Master in. He growled into my mouth and thrust into me, branding my pussy with hot, possessive strokes that mirrored the way his tongue claimed my mouth. We found solace in each other; he in his complete control over me, and I in my blissful abandon to his irresistible power. I was his, body and soul. And he was mine.

*     *     *

I quickened my
pace as I exited the locker room at Decadence and headed down the long corridor to the club bar area. I was running late. My Figure Drawing class at the School of Visual Arts had run over, and I’d barely had time to rush into Decadence and change into my club wear. My bare feet hardly made a sound as I made my way to meet my Master at a half-run, tugging down my skintight black lace dress as I went.

His eyes caught mine as soon as I entered the bar, and they darkened from bright silver to steely gray. His fist tightened around my slim silver collar where he held it at his side, conveying his irritation.

Shit.

Trepidation caused me to slow my pace, but he crooked an imperious finger, silently commanding that I join him. I swallowed hard and forced my feet to close the distance between us.

“Sorry I’m late,” my voice was uncharacteristically small.

His arm wrapped around my waist, pulling my body up against his bare chest. The lines of disapproval around his full lips eased.

“I’m not upset because you’re late,” he explained in an even voice. “I’m upset because of how you’re dressed. I thought I told you to wear the green corset I picked out for you. Tell me why you chose to disobey me.”

I glanced away, but his large hand cupped my cheek, redirecting my gaze to his.

“You know why,” I mumbled. After my nightmare the night before, I hadn’t been able to face the scars that Martel and the Mentor had cut into my back and upper thighs. My dress concealed them, but Smith had wanted to expose me.

His mouth firmed to a thin line. “Don’t hide your body from me. Ever. You are the strongest woman I know, and I love every part of you.” His expression softened slightly, and he touched his lips to mine in a brief, reassuring kiss. “You’re perfect, Lydia. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Relief at his forgiveness washed over me. “I’m sorry,” I said with more confidence. “I’m just shaken up after last night. I didn’t want to upset you.”

“I understand,” he admitted. “And I’m not going to punish you. But you will be naked for me later. We’re going to work through this.”

I went up on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his. “Thank you, Master.” He always knew just how to help me. Sometimes, I needed him to push me, but he could be gentle when he sensed I couldn’t deal with discipline. I mostly had a handle on my past trauma, but sometimes, I needed tenderness more than the structure of his harsher brand of affection.

He released me from his hold and gestured to the floor. “Kneel and lift your hair for me.”

I immediately complied, spreading my thighs and bowing my head as I lifted my mass of dark brown hair out of the way. Baring my neck to him was always an intensely vulnerable experience, but it brought me equally intense satisfaction every time. There was nothing demeaning about what he asked of me. As he slipped my silver collar around my throat and locked it closed at my nape, a sense of security washed over me. Smith was my Master. He’d accepted responsibility for my wellbeing, and the collar was a symbol of his oath to always protect me. I was precious to him, just as he was essential to me.

He grasped my hands in his and helped me to my feet. For a long moment, he simply stared at my collar, his eyes sharpening with hunger. Unconsciously, I leaned into him, inexorably drawn to him.

He blinked, breaking our connection. I sighed at the loss, but I understood. We weren’t alone in the bar, and we’d come to socialize with our friends.

“I want you to talk to Rose,” he told me, his voice holding the ring of command. “I need to have a conversation with Dex.”

My brows drew together. I didn’t like being separated from Master.

His lips twisted in a smirk as his thumb traced the line of my pout. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I fully intend to play with you tonight.” He took me by the shoulders and spun me around, landing a sharp slap across my ass. The force of it propelled me away from him. He chuckled at my surprised squeak. “Go talk to Rose.”

The gorgeous platinum blonde caught my eye and waved me over to where she was sitting on the red leather couch. Her crystalline green eyes sparkled with amusement, and she grinned at me in invitation.

I glanced behind me to find Dex advancing toward Smith. I stared at him until his light blue eyes met mine. “Don’t occupy Master for too long,” I warned. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes, whether you’re finished talking or not.” Lust already pulsed through my body at the prospect of
play
, and I wouldn’t tolerate the huge Dom delaying my fun. I might defer to my Master, but Dex held no such power over me.

Dex’s pale blond brows rose in surprise, and Master laughed. Satisfied, I strode toward Rose, leaving the men to talk.

Rose’s Master, Clayton, flitted a kiss across her cheek and stood. He straightened his customary sharply-tailored suit and walked toward me.

“I’ll give you two some privacy,” he told me as he passed. He gave me a crooked smile and a wink before brushing by me to join Master and Dex. My stomach did a funny flip. I had a feeling the men were plotting something. Master’s predatory grin suggested my suspicions were correct.

“Lydia!” Rose called, her musical voice lilting with laughter. “Get over here.”

I blew out a long breath and crossed the rest of the short distance between us. Whatever Master had in mind, there was no point worrying about it. He would do what he wanted, and I would most likely enjoy it. If I didn’t, I could always use a safe word and he would end the scene.

“Don’t look so nervous,” Rose patted the couch beside her. “I won’t bite.”

I dropped down into the seat. “You’re not the one I’m worried about.”

Her pale, slender hand reached out to squeeze mine. “Don’t worry. You’ll like it.”

I arched an eyebrow. “You know what they’re planning?”

She gave me a saucy smile. “Well, I know that Smith asked me to distract you, and he’s conspiring with Dex and Clayton. I have a pretty good idea what they’re up to.”

“Care to clue me in?”

She shook her head, her silvery hair swaying around her delicately-boned face. “That would ruin the fun. Besides, I don’t think Smith would appreciate it. I
so
don’t want to be on the receiving end of his disapproval. Your Master isn’t as easygoing as mine.”

The reminder that she’d been with Smith before he met me rankled. I didn’t like thinking about him with another woman, even if he had been sharing her with Clayton at the time. She’d never belonged to him, so I really shouldn’t be jealous.

“Please don’t scratch my eyes out,” Rose requested blandly.

I unfurled my fists. “I wouldn’t do that. It’s ancient history.” I knew Smith would never desire anyone but me. He’d demonstrated the depth of his devotion time and again.