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  “That displeases me, Freya.”

  My heart fills with dread. “I’m sorry.”

  He strokes himself in front of me, demonstrating his restraint. “I can withhold all night if I have to. Yeah, I want to spurt all over your body, fill every inch of you with cum, but this is about more than that.”

  He pins me to the bed and holds me down this time, his hands through mine above my head. When he slides into me once more, he’s bigger and harder and more insistent. He’s a massive intrusion and I’m burning and trembling, but still he watches me, listens. He knows when I’m climbing and stops to kiss me, touch me, hold me.

  It’s when I’m beyond despair that he stares at me, thumb against my bottom lip, his cock so deep inside me I can hardly breathe…

  He smiles, catching the tear rolling down my cheek, his tongue absorbing my bittersweet agony. Then another tear falls and he catches this one, too.

  I’m suddenly a hateful, burning lump of flesh desperate to please him and sad because he won’t please me. I’m contained by this body, unable to fly free. I’m fighting all of my emotions, desperate to convey them, but not sure how.

  Then, he speaks.

  “It’s only ever been a cock and a pussy before,” he tells me, breathlessly, “and the urge to reach orgasm as quickly as possible. It’s been clinical and calculated, no?”

  More tears fall. “Yes.”

  “That’s all going to change, Freya. I won’t ever let you come until you open up to me, do you understand? I’ll keep you on the edge with me for as long as it takes to make you feel that this is real, that this isn’t the same.”

  “Yes.”

  “This is more,” he whispers, “a connection… love.”

  Every hair on my body stands on end and I shudder from head to toe. My bottom lip wobbles but then he’s moving quicker, his tongue in my mouth, his lips tender and distracting, causing me mostly pleasure now, no pain. I hold my arms around him when he lets me free as he clings to my breast, sucking hard on my nipple.

  “If you reward me by being vulnerable, I will reward you in perpetuity, I promise,” he groans, kissing the valley between my breasts.

  “I need to feel you come inside me, Ruben. Please. I’ll do anything, give anything, just please…” I have no idea where all this has come from, but I’m being swallowed down into the rabbit hole and I don’t even fucking care anymore.

  He brushes his mouth over mine and stares down into my eyes. “Anything?”

  “Anything,” I promise. “Anything.”

  He looks unbearably beautiful when he smiles and I’m surprised when he fills me even more full, resting much more of his weight on top of me as he holds me close. He kisses me and bites my fuller lower lip, growling my name. My lower back is pushed deep into the mattress as he fucks me more savagely, the bed bowing and screeching beneath us as he builds to an unrelenting rhythm, finally. He finds my g-spot and I grab onto his buttocks with my legs, urging him to continue as he is, only deeper and faster.

  “Oh god, Ruben, oh god… yes. Yes… harder!”

  When it happens, I cover my face with both hands and my head flies back, my hips rise from the bed and everything about it is painful and shocking… and unique. It sounds like he’s in pain, too as he empties his orgasm inside me, not caring for anyone who might be listening in.

  When I come to, it feels like he’s crushing me, his face planted in my hair, hot breaths against my ear. It even occurs to me that I just fucked a stranger. This man… is so different to the one I thought I knew.

  Ruben is passionate and beautiful… mine.

  When he lifts himself up so he’s not so heavy against me, I see the face of the man I want more than any other. His kisses that follow are ones of appreciation and love, and I realise it is still him, after all. I see in his eyes a promise that he will protect me because I’m his. He’s unleashed his love and I never want to go back to how it was before.

  “You’re my woman now, Frey.” He kisses me softly, glowing with happiness. “The day you walked into my life, everything became instantly better. I’m only sorry we waited so long.”

  “Me too.” I fight to control myself, but more tears fall. My emotions come bubbling up out of me and I have no guard left. “I love you.”

  “I love you more, baby. I love you more,” he promises, his arms holding me firmly against his body.

  Chapter Four

  Dirty Slut

  The first thing I notice as I wake is his warm breath against the back of my neck, his face lying in my trailing hair as he sleeps behind me, sharing the same pillow. It’s been such a long time since I last woke up beside a man, it almost doesn’t seem real. I’m satisfied, happy… aching in all the right places. My old mattress is sinking beneath his weight and I don’t think I’ve ever felt safer or sexier than I do this morning.

  We fell asleep at dawn and as I lift my head slightly to check the clock, I see it’s just gone ten. We’ve barely slept at all and yet I feel rested. It was a night of constant discovery, never-ending pleasure… and lovemaking. Pure and dirty and real.

  I’m utterly content.

  Before today, how did I not know it could be this good between a man and a woman? How did I not realise the magic a man possesses? That if you let him really love you, he can make you feel new and vital and beautiful. Before last night, I never really saw what a man was. Ruben is large and domineering and coarse, but his virility is sacred and special; his affection is gentle and passionate; he’s fiercely protective, but also unconcerned by the world outside when he’s with me. He’s a pure lover, he’s vulnerable, he’s strong. I need someone stronger than me, but I don’t think I knew someone so strong, not before Ruben.

  “What time is it?” he mumbles, his hands gripping my breasts and belly.

  “Late,” I whisper.

  So much for sneaking him out of the house before my parents woke. I hear them downstairs, chatting over coffee and the newspapers, as per. I doubt the teenage monster is awake yet, but it’s bad enough my mum and dad will figure out Ruben spent the night.

  “Not working this weekend?” He caresses my hair away from my neck and kisses my skin.

  “Weekend off,” I murmur, shuddering in response to his touch.

  “Really?”

  “It’s my birthday tomorrow. Special occasion.”

  “You didn’t tell me.”

  “You didn’t ask.”

  He turns me to face him and holds me against his chest. He’s looking at me as if he’s seeing me for the first time. It makes me feel bashful and I push my face into his arm, taking comfort and warmth from him. He holds me close and repeatedly kisses my forehead, his full, red mouth alluring, teasing, sensual. I run my hands through his chest hair and kiss his skin. He tastes of sweat, man and the musk of my sheets. Sliding his thigh between mine, he encourages me to open up and wrap my leg over his waist.

  “Hmm, Freya,” he groans, licking my throat at the same time as discovering I’m ready for him.

  “Haven’t you had enough,” I giggle, as his erection brushes against my leg.

  I lift my eyes to his and see he’s hungry for more, but it’s also the way he looks pleased with himself—it threatens to trigger something in me.

  But then he kisses me and I’m lost. He’s the only one who could’ve done this—got inside my real life in this way.

  He’s really gone where no man went before.

  Ruben kisses me passionately, whispering in my ear, “They’ll hear us if we fuck now. Downstairs… the kitchen is beneath your room.”

  “Fuck me anyway,” I ask, squeezing his buttock.

  He throws me onto my back and plunges into me, my pelvic floor bearing down on him hard. I want to convulse immediately, milk him, have him surge inside me.

  He stills, though and brushes the hair out of my face, breathing heavily as he stares down into my eyes. I run my hands over his biceps and mewl, purr, nipping my teeth into his bottom lip.

  “W
hat are you waiting for?” I demand.

  He shakes his head. “You have the most beautiful brown eyes.”

  I scratch my fingernails through his beard. “Kiss me, Ruben.”

  He looks at my mouth before stealing several kisses, then a dozen more, a dozen more…

  “I’m not going to ram you hard with your parents downstairs, so you have permission to finger yourself and make us come,” he commands, biting my nipple.

  I waste no time and spread my legs as wide as possible, grasping my tit as I rub my clit. He watches me touching myself, his lip curling, eyes feral and intense.

  I watch his thick stem move in and out of me, my muscles squeezing around his length. He pulls out just as I’m coming, his seed zigzagging across my stomach and breasts.

  I lie back and let it dry on my skin, eyes closed, as he lies beside me stroking my face, hair, hands and arms.

  “You see something to like, hmm?” I ask, because in no way am I used to this fawning.

  “I can see everything.”

  I giggle and fondle his semi-erect penis for a moment, the same way he’s delicately stroking my face. Ruben doesn’t complain in spite of the fact he’s probably sensitive down there.

  “Time to wash and eat, hmm?”

  He gives each of my sore nipples a kiss before letting me out of his arms. “Lead the way.”

  I’m about to step into the shower when I catch sight of him putting toothpaste on my brush, ready to bung into his mouth. I give him a look and blurt, “My parents are going to think this is serious. You and me, I mean.” He shoves the brush in anyway, despite my furious gaze.

  After a few moments, what I’ve said sinks in, then his face creases with a serious frown. “You mentioned me to them?”

  “I once talked to my mum about you. I just blurted it out one day… that I’d struck up a friendship with someone. I don’t know… maybe I gave myself away, because then Dad started making comments whenever I was having an off-day, things like, ‘Oh, has that guy dumped you then?’”

  “Hmm. I see. And why’s this a problem, might I ask? Whatever opinion they might have of us, all that matters is how we feel, right?”

  “I know how they think, especially my mum. They’re going to think we’ve been dating for two years now, aren’t they? They’re going to think this—us, being like this, this morning—means wedding bells are imminent or something. Trust me, they’ll read into it, it’s what they do.” I don’t need the pressure of labelling what’s happening between us, not on top of everything else.

  He struts towards me, stark bollock, and grins with a mouthful of toothpaste. “We kind of have been dating for two years, Frey.”

  I swallow hard. “Ruben, please.”

  He strolls back to the sink and finishes cleaning his teeth. “Are you my girlfriend or what, Frey?”

  “What?”

  “Answer the question.”

  I can’t tell in what context he means girlfriend. A serious girlfriend? A weekend girlfriend? One girlfriend of many? His maybe-girlfriend. A definite future ex-girlfriend?

  “I don’t know what you mean.” I climb into the shower, hoping the topic of conversation will go away. I mean, aren’t all the ways in which we consummated last night enough? Why must he add a verbal agreement to this? Can’t we just go with the flow instead of trying to put parameters out there already? Doesn’t he recognise that by the light of day, I am kind of freaking out—this is happening so fast.

  Unfortunately, he joins me in the shower post-haste and grips my body in his arms, his eyes telling me he’s pleased by how my breasts are crushed to his chest, our similar heights offering him instant access to my body whenever he wants.

  “I told you last night,” he says, “I don’t want anyone else touching you. Ever. Again.”

  I wriggle away from him and begin applying shampoo, but he stands with his arms folded, staring at me with a thunderous look, even while rivulets of water run over his face, arms, chest, thighs.

  “I don’t know if I’m equipped to be a girlfriend.”

  “What do you mean?” He peers at me suspiciously.

  “I don’t know if I’ll be what you want me to be. Plus, I’ve been used to fucking when I want. What if you’re working away? What if I’m working away?”

  “Are you kidding me, Frey? Are you my fucking girlfriend, or not?”

  I bite my lip because he’s so sexy when he gets mad. I try to hide my blushes but he licks his lips.

  “If I were… you know, a girlfriend type, thing, person in your life, sort of, you know…” I start rinsing my hair. “…would it mean a little, tiny, miniature really, miniscule, puny even, titchy little surprise for my birthday tomorrow?”

  He laughs and gathers me in his arms, tucking me into all the available space he has inside his embrace. I’m carried away as he kisses me, waves of happiness swallowing me whole.

  “Is that a yes?” he asks, growling.

  “It’s a yes,” I reply, “as long as the aforesaid condition is met.”

  “I’ll meet it all right,” he groans, before turning me around and slapping my bum hard, the sting fierce, being that the hot shower has already brought blood to the surface of my skin.

  Teeth follow, digging into my shoulder, then big hands are on my thighs, gripping, tugging, firmly holding me, his cock grinding into my behind.

  “I love your body,” he growls, “and I love you.”

  With those words, I’m instantly dying to feel him touch me.

  Then he kneels and spreads me open, slicing into me with his tongue.

  “Stop doing this to me,” I curse, desperate not to scream.

  However, I’m a slave to this… all because a miracle took place last night… I suddenly got everything I wanted, in one fell swoop.

  If my birthday surprise is anything like this, I’m his forever… and ever.

  “Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck,” I mumble to myself.

  “Nice,” he says, walking down the stairs behind me, laughing at my predicament.

  “Fuck off, you. What if it is was the other way around?”

  “You’d stayed at my parents’?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You really don’t want to know, Freya. It’d be much worse than this, though, trust me.”

  I can’t help but giggle, and as I turn my head to roll my eyes at him and scowl, he steals a quick kiss from me but fails to mollify the sick feeling inside my gut.

  Taking a deep breath, I lead him to the kitchen door and see my parents, already curious as to who it is I’m talking to. Thankfully as we arrive, I see they’ve had the radio on. Maybe they didn’t hear us fucking after all.

  As soon as Ruben comes into view behind me, my mother whispers to Dad, “Told you it was serious.”

  He and I stand awkwardly in the room before Dad says, “Ah, the mysterious Ruben.”

  Even just the way he says it makes me feel icky. It’s like I’m not in control… like this was always going to happen, whether I wanted it to or not. Dad’s eyes are communicating that I’m just as predictable as every other girl out there, needing a bloke to fill a void or something.

  “Pleasure to meet you both,” Ruben says, being hatefully polite, reaching across the kitchen table to shake my father’s hand, then kiss my mother’s. Her eyes widen and her jaw hangs open.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I groan, before turning my back on them and reaching for the kettle.

  “Do sit down, Ruben,” my mother, Delphine says.

  I fill the kettle with enough water to sink a ship, then flick it on.

  My parents don’t drink coffee but I do, so does Ruben I think, so I take out my plunger and spoon a good few lumps into it.

  “We didn’t know you were having a guest,” my father states, as blunt as ever.

  “We were at the Oxford Blue and none of the taxis would drive him back, owing to the snow.” I gesture outside the window. We’ve had a few inches overnight, nothing that would deter a decent ve
hicle, but people around here know how tricky it can be to get up and down the hill. “Anyway, I thought it would be okay. He and I are friends. And have been for a long time.”

  My father pretends not to hear me, his face stuck in his newspaper.

  Mum, on the other hand, is staring at Ruben as if he should be in a display case at the Louvre but somehow escaped.

  “I think it’s marvellous,” Mum says, “that you’re finally an item.”

  “Me too,” Ruben exclaims, and my eyes widen, staring down at him. I give him the daggers of all daggers. “I am truly sorry we didn’t give you prior notice, but Freya didn’t want to wake you both. We got back late. It was freezing. We’d had a bit to drink. We just wanted to hit the hay.”

  Oh my god. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. Ruben is digging so deep, and he doesn’t even know it.

  Fuck.

  My father folds his newspaper shut and carefully places it on the table. Even above the whistling of the kettle, I can hear him sigh and sniff.

  This is why I can’t have relationships. No. It’s random sex in random places, or I bring a guy home and it’s the Spanish fucking inquisition.

  My dad’s brown eyes land firmly on Ruben’s. He also sits back in his chair with a mug of tea in one hand and the other scratching his face. I smell a bollocking on the horizon.

  “Freya never brought a boyfriend home before, did you know that?”

  There’s my dad’s cold, indifferent gaze belying much more beneath. I never had any freedom to express myself and he wonders why I’m like this.

  “I know she’s careful about who she trusts,” Ruben explains, “and she’s a wonderful girl.”

  He gazes longingly into my eyes, and while I see authenticity in that gaze, this whole situation right now feels awkward.

  “Are you moving in together, then?” Dad asks, because lord knows he’s been dying to get rid of me. “We won’t have sex outside of marriage in this house.”

  He says that, profaning to be all proper—all while failing to hide his distaste of my happiness.

  “I’m taking Freya away for the weekend. For her birthday. My treat. We’ll discuss it then, won’t we baby?” He winks at me, letting me know two can play this game.