First Time

Mateo's dark eyes gleamed with wicked amusement as he watched Ariana struggle to compose herself, her chest heaving with labored breaths. He reveled in the flush spreading across her porcelain skin, the way her pupils were blown wide with lingering lust and newfound fear.

"We wouldn't want Camilla to find us like this now, would we?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down Ariana's spine. "Though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You always did love playing games."

Mateo trailed a fingertip along the elegant column of Ariana's neck, tracing the delicate line of her collarbone. Her skin prickled under his touch, a mix of revulsion and shameful excitement churning in her gut. This was wrong on so many levels, yet her traitorous body yearned for more.

 Outside, the muffled sounds of the gala were a world away, but the threat of discovery remained a razor’s edge.

"Dad? Ari?" Cami’s voice came again, her hand rattling the locked handle.

Suddenly, a high-pitched, excited voice cut through the hallway. "Cami! There you are! What are you doing? The fireworks are starting in the garden! The first one just went off!"

"I was looking for my dad and Ari," Cami replied, her voice sounding torn. "They’re not in the ballroom. They’ll miss the display."

"Oh, don't be silly! I saw a couple heading toward the west terrace a few minutes ago. I'm sure it was them. Come on, everyone’s waiting!"

"I... okay. I guess they're already out there." Cami’s footsteps finally receded, the sound of her laughter disappearing as she was led away toward the garden.

The silence that followed was deafening. Mateo stepped back, his chest heaving under his tuxedo shirt. He looked at Ariana—her hair disheveled, her red dress bunched, her lips swollen from his previous assault. He reached out and turned the lock, then stepped away from the door, giving her the space he had promised.

"There is your exit, Ariana," he rasped, his voice a low, vibrating growl. "Walk out now, and I will be the protector you pretend to need. We will never speak of this. But if you stay... if you cross this line, you are mine. Completely. Body, soul, and every breath in between. You will oblige every command. You will be my 'good girl' until I am finished with you. Choose."

Ariana looked at the door. She thought of Tyler’s safe, polite kisses. Then she looked at Mateo—the man who had just dismantled her with his fingers. Her body was already making the choice for her. The tingling heat between her legs was an agonizing thrum, a hunger she couldn't suppress. She wanted the ruin he promised.

She didn't walk to the door. She stepped into his heat, her hands trembling as she reached up to cup his face. She rose on her tiptoes and pressed a lingering, wet kiss to his earlobe, her tongue flicking against the skin.

"I'm not going anywhere, Mateo," she whispered. "Make me yours."

Ariana's breath hitched as Mateo's strong hands gripped her hips possessively, pulling her flush against him. She could feel the hard ridge of his erection pressing insistently against her stomach, a silent promise of the pleasure and pain he intended to inflict upon her.

"I'm going to fuck you right here, Nina," he growled, punctuating his words with a sharp nip to her earlobe. "I'm going to claim this sweet little cunt as mine, once and for all."

One hand slid up to cup her breast, kneading the soft mound roughly through the thin silk of her gown. Ariana bit her lip to stifle a moan, her nipples pebbling beneath his touch.

The sound that left Mateo was animalistic—a guttural, starving roar. He didn't just kiss her; he consumed her. His mouth crashed against hers with a violent intensity, his tongue diving deep to claim her territory. He hoisted her up, and Ariana instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels digging into the small of his back as he carried her toward the oversized leather couch in the corner of the room.

He dropped her onto the soft leather, the scent of expensive hide mixing with the scent of their shared arousal.

Mateo drank in the sight of Ariana's swollen, dripping pussy with a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Look at you," he rasped, trailing a finger through her slick folds. "So wet and ready for me already. You're practically begging to be stuffed full of cock."

He circled her entrance teasingly, gathering her juices on his fingertips before bringing them to his lips. Ariana watched, transfixed, as he licked them clean, savoring her taste with a low groan of approval. "Delicious," he rumbled. "Almost as delicious as the sounds you make when I split you open on my dick."

 As he began to strip out of his tuxedo jacket and unbuckle his belt, Ariana watched him, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.

"Mateo," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I want to... I want to please you first."

After watching 365 Days seeing how Laura pleased Massimo Araina’s curiosity burned; she wanted to know how it felt, and now, at last, she had the chance to try.”

She slid off the couch and sank to her knees before him.

Mateo wasted no time in freeing his aching cock from the confines of his trousers. It sprang forth, long and thick and flushed a deep, angry red at the tip. Ariana's eyes widened at the sheer size of him, a flicker of trepidation passing through her.

He was magnificent—a thick, heavy length of pulsing muscle that looked far too large for her. He was dark, engorged, and weeping a bead of pre-cum at the tip.

She took him into her hand, her thumb rubbing over the crown. Mateo let out a hissed breath, his fingers tangling in her hair. "Do it, Nina. Show me how much you want this."

She leaned in, her lips swirling around the head of his cock before she slid him into the heat of her mouth. The sensation was overwhelming—the taste of salt and musk, the sheer size of him filling her throat. She moved her head rhythmically, her tongue swirling around the vein that ran along his underside. Mateo groaned, his hips jerking forward as he looked down at her, his eyes dark with a mix of pride and agonizing pleasure.

"Fuck, you're a natural," he growled, his hand tightening in her hair as she took him deeper. "Such a filthy, beautiful little nurse."

After a few moments of her relentless ministrations, Mateo couldn't take any more. He pulled her up, his patience frayed to a single thread. He pushed her back onto the couch, spreading her legs wide until she was completely exposed to the flickering light of the fireplace.

He moved between her thighs, the head of his cock brushing against her soaking, dripping slit. Ariana’s hands flew to his shoulders, her eyes searching his.

"Mateo... wait," she breathed, her face flushing. "There's something..... I, I never... I’m a virgin. You’re the first."

The air in the room seemed to turn to ice. Mateo went perfectly still, his gaze dropping to the tight, pale folds of her pussy, then back to her face. A dark, possessive triumph flared in his eyes.

"A virgin," he whispered, the words a sinful caress. "So pure. So perfect. You kept this for me, didn't you? You saved your innocence for me without knowing.

He leaned down, kissing her forehead with a tenderness that terrified her more than his rage. For a man so dominant, the shift was staggering. He positioned himself, the broad head of his cock stretching the entrance of her tight channel.

"It’s going to hurt, Nina," he murmured against her lips. "But I will be as gentle as a man like me can be. Just breathe for me."

He began to push, a slow, agonizingly steady intrusion. Ariana felt the world start to split. She was so small, and he was so vast. She let out a sharp, choked cry as her hymen tore, a hot flash of pain radiating through her hips.

Mateo stopped instantly. He stayed buried halfway inside her, his muscles vibrating with the effort of not lunging forward. He kissed away the tears on her cheeks, his voice a low, soothing rasp. "Shh, I know. I have you. Just let it happen. Open up for me, baby."

As her body began to accept the invasion, the pain began to morph into a heavy, stretching fullness. Ariana felt her internal muscles clamping down on him, trying to pull him deeper. She arched her back, her fingers digging into the leather of the couch.

"More," she gasped. "Mateo, please... all of it."

He didn't need to be told twice. He drove home, burying himself to the hilt. Ariana let out a long, high-pitched keen as she felt his weight settle against her. He began to move—a slow, rhythmic grind that prioritized her pleasure over his own. He found her G-spot with every thrust, his thumb reaching down to circle her throbbing clit with a firm, relentless pressure.

Outside, the first major explosion of the fireworks shook the windows. A burst of brilliant red and white light flooded the room, illuminating them in a strobe-like flash.

The rhythm increased. Mateo’s gentleness was slowly being consumed by his hunger. His thrusts became deeper, harder, the wet, slapping sound of his skin against hers lost in the thunder of the fireworks. Ariana was lost in a storm of sensation—the friction, the stretch, the sheer, overwhelming reality of being claimed by the man who had occupied her dreams and nightmares.

"You're so tight, fuck," Mateo groaned, his face buried in the crook of her neck. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else. You're mine now. Do you hear me? Mine."

"Yes!" Ariana cried out, her hips rolling shamelessly to meet his every plunge.

She felt the coil of tension in her core wind tighter and tighter until it snapped. She shattered, her internal walls spasming in a violent, rhythmic sequence that milked him. "Mateo! Oh god, Mateo!"

He followed her over the edge a second later. He let out a low, guttural roar, his body jerking as he filled her with his hot, thick seed, pumping into her until his legs trembled. He stayed buried inside her, his breath ragged, as the final, massive finale of the fireworks lit up the sky in a deafening crescendo.

In the garden, Cami stood among the guests, her eyes fixed on the empty balcony of the study, a cold, heavy feeling of dread settling in the pit of her stomach.

But inside, on the leather couch, Ariana lay draped in Mateo’s arms, drenched in his sweat and marked by his touch, knowing that the girl she used to be was dead. And she didn't want her back.