Lori knew what she needed, and her own filthy thoughts shocked her. She was naked, vulnerable, and for the first time in her life, she didn’t feel ashamed of herself. It was the way he looked at her.
With hunger.
He must have reflected her own desires. Chains had the body of a god, and she couldn’t stop staring at all those hard, ripped muscles. He looked like a centurion from one of the movies she’d seen on Netflix, but this one was all hers. His cock was big and thick, and she couldn’t imagine it even fitting inside her. Yet her lust outweighed her fears. If any man was to strip her of her virginity, she wanted it to be Chains. He’d put her first, showing her what she’d been blind to. Made her feel valuable. Safe. Desired.
“Has another man touched you, Lori?”
She shook her head. It wasn’t a lie. Between working at the diner and babysitting, she had no time to socialize—not that any man showed interest in her. Catcalls and crude propositions at the bus stop at night didn’t count.
“I like that,” he said. “I’ve been holding back. It was important to me that you knew this wasn’t about sex.”
Lori bit her lip. “And now?”
“I’m not going anywhere, baby. So there’s no sense in torturing myself anymore, is there?”
She needed him, had for a while now. His holding back had given her a complex and made her desperate for his touch. “No. I don’t want you to hold back.”
He was a lot taller than she was, all sinewy muscle. She dared to reached up and trace her fingers along his defined pecs, and then down his ripped abs. He had a lot of old scars, but one thing she noticed was the complete lack of tattoos.
Chains didn’t move, allowing her to explore his body. When she reached low enough, he grabbed her wrist. She looked up to gauge his reaction. He licked lips. “Keep going, baby girl.”
She swallowed her fears and wrapped her fingers around his cock, testing the thickness. It was rock hard with a silky skin, and she was intrigued by his masculinity. “Does this feel good?” she asked, slowly stroking her fist over his erection.
“You have no idea.”
Lori smiled, excited that she was able to affect him with a simple touch. It gave her a sense of power, and she savored the fact he wanted her just as much. “You have no tattoos. I thought bad boys always had some.”
“My body’s my own. Nobody gets to brand me.” There was such emotion in those few words, and she wondered what he’d been through when he was younger. He’d told her horrible bits and pieces, and she was sure the full picture would shock her to the core. All they could do now was start over, make today the first day of forever.
“I love your body,” she said. Lori reached up and held his shoulders. “You’re so strong. So hard.”
He grit his teeth, then grabbed her waist, hoisting her up on the wooden kitchen table. “Lean back on your elbows,” he said.
She did as instructed, carefully resting back on the table, her entire body never so exposed. He squeezed her thighs, staring down at her with the eyes of a predator, a man hanging desperately on the edge. Chains leaned over and kissed her stomach, making her giggle. He kept kissing up her center, higher and higher until he reached her breasts. She clenched her pussy, swearing the wetness would leak down to her ass.
Lori gasped when he covered her areola with his mouth. He supported her tit with one hand, his tongue painting patterns around her nipple. She closed her eyes and dropped her head back as he suckled her, the pressure in her womb building and building.
“I want you to remember today,” he said. “I want you to remember when I made you mine.”