Tainted Black - Williams Shanora - Страница 9

I couldn’t speak. I didn’t need to.

“I know you like me, Chloe.”

“Mr. Black, I—”

“Theo… please,” he begged, eyes shutting briefly before opening again, “…just call me Theo. Call me by my first name. It sounds so good coming out of your mouth.” The pad of his thumb ran across my lips, feathery-light. My core heated, a gush of warmth flowing to my sacred area.

“Theo,” I whispered, pressing a hand against his chest.

“Yes?” He got a thrill out of me saying his name. I saw it in his eyes, how they lit up and sparked like a shower of meteors.

I tried creating words—lyrics I’d rehearsed—but the way he looked at me and how close he was to me, I’d never felt this before. Not with any kind of man. No man had ever made me feel this way—ready to pounce on top of him, smother his lips, and take him whole. Just Theo.

“W-what do you wanna do to me?” I tempted, my wavering voice barely heard. I was being bad. Naughty. I knew better.

Theo’s face became hard like the metal he worked with, the light emphasizing his chiseled features. Locking eyes with me, he gripped my waist, reeling me into him, and breathing deep as his nose ran down the angle of mine.

Before I knew it, he’d yanked my spandex shorts down, his mouth angled above mine. He paused for what felt like an eternity, testing me. Teasing me. Playing with my mind and body.

But, instantly, he spoiled me, mouth crushing mine, his tongue thrusting between my lips. He groaned, and I defenselessly fell into his touch, his hands on my waist, picking up one of my legs as he turned for the bed.

My back hit the soft padding, my left leg pushed up to my chest as he sank against me. Theo lifted up and yanked off his belt then undid his pants, grasping my hips, nearly bruising my waist as he brought me closer. His arm shot out towards the nightstand, and he dug in the drawer, pulling out a small, square, gold packet. A condom. As he tore it with his teeth and took the time to slide it on, I could have wriggled out from under him… but I didn’t. I just lay there, wanting it.

Craving for it.

In that moment, I was his for the taking. My lower half exposed, hips tilted up in the angle he desired. He could’ve stopped—I could tell he was debating whether to keep going or call it quits—but he proceeded, the confliction in his eyes rapidly subsiding. I was so glad he didn’t give out.

His cock sank deep inside me, and I was consumed by a hot, welcoming rush with each slow stretch. He stilled, shutting his eyes tightly and groaning, the veins bulging under the ink on his arms and neck. God, he was so thick and long, everything I ever imagined. Quite possibly more.

I adjusted around his size, whimpering for him to stroke, move—do something. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath as he finally started. “So fucking tight.” He looked down at me, and I thought he would stop once he realized exactly what was happening, but he didn’t. He moved slowly, his cock filling me up, bringing me over the edge. Bringing me higher. “Damn, Chloe. You’re so fucking wet for me.”

His mouth came down on mine again, our tongues colliding, warm bodies greedy for each other. We’d wanted this to happen for quite some time now. The both of us. From the moment Mr. Black noticed the changes that had taken place in my body, I was sure he thought some pretty naughty things about me—things he’d never share with anyone else. But back then, he was a married man and I was underage. It was bad.

Wrong.

Dirty.

But now, I was nineteen, on my way to college to start a new life. He was a widowed, gorgeous man with needs that needed fulfilling and a dark, cluttered mind that needed clearing.

As I lay on the bed, watching this gorgeous man take me, thrusting hard and deep, bringing my legs to my chest and pumping just enough to reach my g-spot, I couldn’t bring myself to care about anything else outside of this. Not even the fact that I was losing my virginity to him.

There was pain, and even an odd stretching sensation that I couldn’t ignore, but once that passed, it was the greatest thing I ever endured. True pleasure taking over my body, letting out noises within me that I never knew existed. I was sure he was too drunk to notice, or maybe he was too drunk to care. I wasn’t saving myself for anyone. I just never felt like any of the other guys were worthy enough. But for Theo, it was astonishing what I would do for him—what I would give just to be close. Damn. I wasn’t sure if it was sickening or delightful.

I needed to get it out of my system, and so did he. We needed to get it over with, forget about whatever feelings we held back on because it was obvious we would never be able to be together, even if Izzy wasn’t my best friend and his wife was long gone.

Our age played a huge, scary part.

It would be oddly accepted in this world.

Theo’s body locked, his hands on either side of my head, eyes bolted with mine. Only his hips drilled, the definition of his muscles exposed. “Your pussy is so tight and wet for me, Chloe. My Little Knight.” He leaned forward, his lips coming to the shell of my ear. “You’ve saved me so many times.” He slammed, and I cried out, my fingernails biting into the smooth flesh on his muscled back. “I owe you this much. I owe it to you to make you feel good—comfort you this time. Show you what a real man can do. I know you’ve wanted it,” he breathed. “Trust me. I know. I see the desire in your eyes every single fucking day, and it kills me.”

And then it happened. His deep, orgasmic voice. His large, toned body on mine. The heat thick in the air, his hand cupping the back of my neck, the possessive hold he had on me and how he repeatedly pressed on a g-spot that had never been triggered… god, I came. I came so hard. So fucking hard.

My body shook violently, out of control. I’d never felt such a thing. It was magical and intense and fucking amazing. I screamed, sighed, and then moaned his name.

“That’s right,” he breathed, still tipping me over. “Cum for me. Cum all over my fucking cock, Chloe. You’ve wanted this. Fucking claim it.”

I shuddered, and he groaned, dropping his face into the crook of my neck. “Goddamn.” His voice was heavy and gruff as he came next, crashing into me three more times before collapsing and panting wildly.

He was still buried within as I lay there, staring up at the ceiling. I felt wonderful for a split second. Utterly amazing. I listened to my heart beating fast like the wings of a humming bird. Absorbed the feeling of his warm breath drifting past my damp skin. I was drunk on the way his sweat mixed with mine, his chest heaving. For the briefest of moments I felt like I belonged there… but I knew I didn’t.

My face straightened, and I immediately came back to the sobering reality. Oh my god. I couldn’t believe it. I’d just fucked Mr. Black, the man across the street. My neighbor and my best friend’s dad. A man that was twenty years older than I was…

And I couldn’t take it back.

I lifted up, and he rolled onto his back, sighing as he shut his eyes. I watched his relaxed position, how he sighed again as if he’d been waiting on that to happen for years. Something bad settled in the pit of my stomach, gutting me. I so badly wanted to cry.

Climbing off the bed, I walked forward, picking up my shorts, sliding them on and then tucking my hair behind my ear. Theo touched his crotch, and when he felt something wet, his brows puckered, his hand shooting up above his face.

He sprang up, looking from the redness on his fingertips to me. “Chloe… oh shit.” He blinked in my direction, shocked. “Chloe—why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered. His speech was still a slurred mess. I figured it best not to get into it. It didn’t matter. It was done. There was no taking it back—or dare I say giving it back.