CHAPTER FOUR

Rhaena’s POV

My first orgasm hit while sucking his cock. I never saw it coming—it crashed over me like a sudden wave. His musky scent filled my nostrils, drawing me in. His massive cock stretched my lips wide, pressing heavy against my tongue, turning me addicted. I craved more as my body shuddered in release, my pussy pulsing wet and empty, desperate for touch.

His voice sliced through the fog. 'Stand up,' he commanded firmly. I rose on shaky legs, facing him. Cool air prickled my flushed skin, raising shivers. He lounged on the couch, eyes claiming every curve of me.

His rough hands trailed my calves, warming my skin as they slid up. Goosebumps followed to my thighs. My pulse hammered when his fingers grazed my soaked pussy. Panties clung damp to me; I bit my lip against a gasp.

He pressed his thumb to my clit through the fabric. Electricity shot through me; I gasped, knees weakening. He circled slowly, then harder, igniting heat that spread like wildfire. I clutched the couch back, nails sinking in.

He hooked fingers into my panties, yanking them aside. Cool air kissed my exposed folds briefly before his thick finger plunged deep into my slick slit. I cried out, walls gripping him tight. Toes curled as he filled me. 'So tight,' he growled low. He thrust in and out, testing my squeeze. 'Virgin?'

I shook my head, cheeks aflame. 'No,' I whispered shakily. Nothing had ever stretched me like this. He chuckled deeply, vibrating through me. 'Then the guys you've fucked had tiny dicks.' His words stung; I blushed hotter, silent as fresh wetness slicked his hand. Jake had never compared.

He withdrew slowly; I moaned at the emptiness, pussy clenching on nothing. Slick sounds echoed. He rose, towering over me, then lifted me effortlessly into his arms. Muscles bunched strong under me. I clung to his neck, heart pounding as he carried me to the bed.

He laid me down gently on the soft sheets, my back sinking into the cool fabric. He tugged my panties down slowly, eyes locked on mine, baring my swollen, eager pussy. He parted my thighs wide, sensing my mix of exposure and thrill. Then his tongue dragged long, flat licks along my slit, savoring my salty-sweet wetness. My hips jerked wildly, but he pinned my thighs down, murmuring,

'Don’t move, Sweet Cherry,' before diving back in. He flicked my clit rapidly, then swirled around it, drawing loud moans from me. He sucked it into his mouth, heightening the ache, my hips bucking despite his grip.

His tongue thrust inside, lapping my slick walls hungrily while his nose ground against my clit, the friction making me twist and arch. Our fluids mingled, trickling down to my ass. He kept at it—licking, sucking, nipping my folds and nub—pushing me closer to the brink. Abruptly, he shoved two thick fingers into my pussy, pumping hard as his mouth assaulted my clit, curling them to strike that deep spot. My climax exploded, walls spasming and gushing around him—my second before he'd even fucked me. I screamed, body rigid and slick with sweat, but he craved more.

He withdrew, lips trailing kisses up my torso, ripping off my bra to free my stiff nipples. He latched onto one, sucking greedily, pulling fresh moans from me. One hand kneaded my breast; the other gripped his cock, stroking its throbbing length, tracing veins as pre-cum beaded. But he stopped me, seizing my wrist with a growl: 'Not yet, Cherry.' His voice was rough—he wasn't done.

He pinned my hands above my head and stretched them to the headboard. He grabbed the silk tie from the nightstand and wrapped it around my wrists, tying them tight to the wooden slats. I pulled a bit to test it, but it held, the fabric digging into my skin and making my heart pound. Now I was helpless, tied down and bare on the big bed in this dim bedroom. The air smelled of sex and sweat.

He stood up, tall over me. He shrugged off his open white shirt and let it fall. His chest was wide and muscled, every line hard from the gym. My eyes followed down his strong pecs, over his tight abs that moved with his breath, to the spider tattoo on his waist. It was dark and detailed, legs curling around his hip. It turned me on so much that I yanked at the ties, and heat built between my legs.

He hooked his thumbs in his pants and pushed them down, kicking them away. His cock jumped out, hard and thick, aimed at me. He climbed back on the bed, the mattress sinking under him as he knelt between my open thighs. I spread my legs wider on instinct, my pussy tightening with need. He gripped my thighs hard with his big hands and pushed them up to my chest, folding me in half. This opened my pussy wide, my ass lifting off the sheets as cool air touched my wet folds. I felt so exposed.

He looked down at me, his eyes meeting mine through the black mask on his face. I couldn't see all of him, but that sharp stare made my stomach twist. I knew he was hot and risky under there. My heart raced with fear and want. This was my first time with him, the man from my fantasies who'd made me cum twice already without entering me.

In one hard push, he drove his cock deep inside me.

An hour later, After giving me the best sex of my life, he got up and walked into the bathroom. He left the door closed behind him. I lay there on the bed, feeling completely boneless. My body felt heavy and shaky, like it wasn’t even mine anymore.

After a few moments, I forced myself to move. I slowly stood up and bent down to pick up my underwear, the pieces he had ripped off me. My clothes were scattered by the door. I grabbed them quickly and put them on as fast as I could. I needed to get out. This was supposed to be just a business deal. Nothing more. I had paid for orgasms, and I had gotten them. That was it.

I left the club, my legs still weak, and walked to my car. The cool night air hit me as I sat down. I started the engine and drove home, the city lights passing in a blur. My chest was still pounding.

When I got to my apartment, I fumbled with the keys, my hands still shaking from the night. The door clicked open, and I stepped inside. The familiar smell of my apartment—old carpet, faint vanilla air freshener—didn’t register. My mind was elsewhere, back at the club.

My phone pinged. A notification. From the club. My stomach flipped. My chest tightened. My breath hitched. Something was wrong.

I unlocked it with shaky fingers and froze. My eyes went wide. A refund. My heart skipped a beat. I stared at the reason, reading it over and over: “No show.”

I blinked, trying to make sense of it. What? That didn’t make any sense. I had been there. I had just… been with someone at the club. The fantasy man I had paid for, the one I had trusted, the one who had made me feel things I’d never felt before—wasn’t he real? Or had I been sent to the wrong room? Was he even working there? Or had I… been tricked somehow?

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold onto something solid. My chest felt tight, my heart pounding against my ribs. My hands were clammy, my fingers shaking like I had touched electricity. The whirlwind of emotions—shock, confusion, embarrassment, a strange mix of excitement and panic—hit me all at once.

Oh my God.

I had just slept with the wrong person.

Before I could spiral completely, my phone rang. I snatched it up, hoping, praying, that it was the club calling to fix the mistake. But no.

It wasn’t.

It was my mum.

I stared at the screen, my chest still racing, my mind barely able to focus. Slowly, I answered.

“Hello?” My voice sounded small, weak, trembling even to me.

“I’m getting married, Rhaena,” she said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like she wasn’t dropping a bomb on me. Like she didn’t realize my world had just been turned upside down.

I blinked. My mouth went dry. My stomach twisted.

“It’s in a month,” she continued, casually, like that somehow made it less shocking.