Sweat beads on my forehead as I pump, my cock drenched, her pussy tight, grabbing and wringing every last drop from me.
And then I pull out and fall into bed beside her.
She rolls into my arms and I pull her close, instinctively, as she burrows against my chest. I can feel her breath, and I’m sure she can hear my heart pounding.
What the fuck just happened.
I did not plan that. It wasn’t supposed to go this way.
I was going to fuck her, yes. Eventually. Maybe tomorrow or the day after.
Tonight, was the lead-in, the preparation.
But she begged me to fuck her, and I lost control, gave into my carnal needs.
I am not sure why this troubles me so much. She clearly enjoyed it, as did I.
I’m just not used to being out of control, planning something one way and then going against it on a whim.
I feel like I’m spinning.
I can feel her looking at me and I glance down into her wide, innocent eyes. “Are you okay?” she says.
I chuckle bitterly. “I think that’s my line.”
“You seem…”
“Tired maybe.”
She raises her eyebrows. “I hope you don’t regret sleeping with me?”
I frown. This is all backwards.
This is just wrong. I pull slightly away from her. “You’re really a virgin?” I ask, watching for any sign that she’s lying to me.
Now it’s her turn to frown. She winces. “You think I lied?”
“Of course not,” I reply, instinctively. “It’s just—“
“Just what?” she says, pulling all the way out of my grasp and drawing her sundress up to cover herself.
“You seemed so natural at it,” I explain.
“I don’t know if that’s a compliment, but somehow it feels like an insult.”
“It’s not.”
“Or maybe an accusation.”
I sigh. “Haisley. Relax.”
“You question whether I lied about being a virgin while your cum is still drying inside me, Dermot.”
I run a hand through my hair, exasperated now. “Calm down.”
“I’m going to take a shower.” She turns and walks out of the room, and the door to the bathroom slams shut.
And I have to admit, I’m relieved.
Haisley
In the shower, hot water running over my body, I start to cry.
And I hate that I’m letting him get to me.
Why does it bother me so much what Dermot Nash thinks of me? I knew when I signed onto this that he was a rich playboy with a shitty attitude. And now he’s confirmed that he is a complete jerk.
After taking my virginity, making me feel special, so kind and gentle and firm all at once, guiding me relentlessly to the most outrageous orgasms of my life…
He turns around and talks to me like I’m nothing.
Accuses me of lying about being a virgin. And why would I do that? He must think all women are lying users. Probably because he is a lying user himself.
Projection much, Dermot? I think, as I clean myself, angry, crying, and yet my body is still tingling. I’m on fire from what just happened to me, and I’m conflicted.
On the one hand, I just had my mind and body blown apart by this sex god, and I feel like my life will never be the same.
On the other hand, I feel emotionally crushed.
He looked at me with such distrust, almost as if he thought I was filthy. Like he just wanted to be rid of me now that he’d taken what he wanted.
I cry more, my shoulders shaking. I empty out.
After a few more minutes, my tears stop, and I turn the shower off. Drying under heat lamps, I revel in this decadent opulence.
He has everything a person could want.
But he really has nothing, I decide, because he mistrusts everyone and everything in his world. He has stopped seeing the beauty in what he has, and he takes everything in his life for granted.
I pity him.
I just had the best sex, I just experienced something beautiful and new, and I won’t let him ruin that.
For him, it was surely just another chance to get off. One of thousands of random, trivial sexual encounters. In a few months, he’ll forget who I even am, but I will never forget him.
And I’m glad for that.
After the shower, I change into a simple outfit, casual jeans and a t-shirt. I’m no longer going to try and impress Dermot. Screw him and the high horse he rides around on.
Thinking this way empowers me, emboldens me. I leave the bathroom and he’s no longer in the bedroom. I’m not sure what to do next.
It occurs to me that maybe this will be the end of our time together.
What if he sends me home?
Will I still get the rest of the money? I need to pay off my father’s debt. Which is now my debt, since I vouched for him, told that evil mobster with the dead eyes that I would be on the hook for it.
Just the thought of Vincent “Vinnie Boy” Rossi makes me shiver from head to toe, and not in a good way.
Speaking of money, the first half of the debt is due in a few days. Fifty thousand dollars, which just so happens to be the amount that should have been deposited in my bank account by the GirlFundMe site.
I’ve been in such a state ever since last night, I didn’t even have a chance to check the status in my account. I grab my cell phone and log into my mobile banking app.
Navigating to checking, I feel the breath catch in my chest.
There it is, in plain black and white, on the screen.
$50,000.00 deposit.
It’s cleared, meaning the funds are actually available. Now my problem is how to get in touch with the fearsome mafia henchman who has demanded the payment.
I don’t exactly have the guy’s number. Maybe my father does?
Lord knows I won’t be giving the money to my dad to hold onto in the meantime. He would just blow it all, same as ever…
My palms are sweaty, I feel sick to my stomach.
My father thinks I decided to visit a friend who moved away from our hometown to New York City. He has no idea what I’ve gotten up to, nor will he ever know.
But I also won’t ever forgive him for making me sell my body, and maybe even my soul, to fix his problems.
I am starting to hate him, truth be told. Yes, he stood by me when my mother left us, and that counts for a lot. But since then, he has made my life a living hell, he’s kept me stranded in limbo trying to save him from himself ever since.
I’m suddenly furious at the world.
At my father, at my mother, at Vincent Rossi…and of course, at Dermot Nash.
Dermot Nash most of all.
Because he lit my body on fire, kissed me and made me believe, made me hope, and then instantly ripped it all away with the cruelty in his eyes and his words.
And where is he now?
I leave the bedroom and head downstairs.
Dermot is also freshly showered. He must have used a different bathroom. There are so many rooms in this house, we could live in opposite wings and never even see one another.
He’s now wearing a track suit.
“Hi,” I say, forcing myself to meet his cool, steely gaze. As usual, his incredible good looks blow me away when I am near him.
He nods. “Have everything you need?”
“Yes,” I mutter, and glance away.
“I’m going for a run and then I’m booked at the range for some practice time.”