2

I didn't know what I was doing.

My fingers slid lower, pressing into the front of his pants.

I touched the bulge straining beneath the fabric and froze. It was so much bigger than I expected. My palm curved against the shape of it, and even through the layers I could feel the sheer size, long, hard, and barely contained.

The fabric stretched tight around it. I felt the weight of it shift under my touch, thick from base to tip, a slow, heavy throb pulsing beneath my hand like it was daring me to go further.

My mouth went dry. My thighs clenched. Wetness slicked between them, hot and needy, and I still hadn't seen it yet.

My breath hitched, my thighs pressed together. The heat between them was getting worse. My panties were already soaked. I could feel it, sticking to my skin.

His cock twitched under my palm.

Then he moved.

His hand shot out and caught my wrist.

His grip was hard even though it wasn't painful, there was no mistaking the message.

He held me still, right there in the middle of the bar. His eyes locked on mine. He was calm. Too calm.

"What do you think you're doing?"

I thought his face was ethereal, his voice was ecstasy. It had the type of deepness that made my chest thump hard, I almost took a step back from how intensely deep and hot it was.

My face flushed and I blinked, temporarily snapping out of my drunken trance.

His eyes were fixed on me as he waited for my response.

My lips parted but nothing came out at first, my chest rose and fell fast.

He didn't release me.

My wrist was still in his grip. My hand was still trapped between us, just inches from that thick, hard shape that had made my mouth go dry.

"I... I don't know," I said.

That wasn't a lie. I had no idea what came over.

He looked at me like he could see through everything.

My nipples were hard, tight against my bra. My thighs were wet and clenched.

He leaned in, close enough that I felt his breath at my ear.

"Try that again without permission," he said, "and I'll teach you what happens to greedy little girls."

My heart thudded so loud I thought he could hear it. That wasn't what I was expecting.

He let go of my wrist.

I stood there, staring up at him, dazed.

He turned away and walked toward the back of the bar.

I didn't know if I was embarrassed or just disappointed that I had a cunt that had been left unsatisfied by him.

I didn't go back to Kole's. I booked a motel down the street. One of those places with flickering lights and a vending machine in the lobby.

I shut the door behind me and locked it. The room smelled like cheap air freshener and bleach, but I didn't care. I dropped my suitcase and sat on the edge of the bed.

My legs were still shaking.

I hadn't even asked the man's name. I didn't know anything about him. Just his damn dreamy green eyes.

I threw the motel room door shut and locked it behind me.

My clothes hit the floor in seconds, my panties were soaked through. I could smell myself. I lay back on the bed, legs open, and let my fingers slide between them.

I imagined his voice again. That low, firm question.

"What do you think you're doing?"

My fingers found my clit. I dragged the tip over it slow. I was so wet it made a sound. A wet, needy stroke that sent a pulse straight up my spine. My hips jerked.

"Did I say you could touch me?"

I pictured him standing over me, shirt open, cock hard. Thick, veined, heavy.

His hand pinning both my wrists above my head, holding me down like I was nothing. My legs open, my body exposed.

I rubbed tight little circles on my clit and imagined him sliding inside me slow, just to hear me beg for more.

My other hand moved to my breast. I squeezed it, pulled my nipple hard between my fingers.

My thighs shook, my mouth was open. Breathing fast.

"Look at you," he says in my head. "Already soaking for a man you don't even know."

My fingers moved faster. I spread my legs wider. My heel dug into the mattress as I rocked my hips up, chasing the pressure.

"You want me to fill this tight little pussy?"

"Please," I whispered. "Yes."

I imagined him fucking me rough, slamming into me while my wrists were pinned. I pictured his hand on my throat. His mouth at my ear, calling me greedy. Dirty. His cock dragging against my walls so deep I couldn't breathe.

.

My fingers were soaked. The slick sound filled the room. I gasped, twisting harder, faster. My back arched off the mattress.

"You think I'll be gentle?"

"No," I whispered. "Don't be."

I rubbed harder, faster, my thighs trembling. The pleasure was sharp, shaking through me. I was moaning, open, breathless.

"You're mine now," he growled in my mind. "Say it."

"I'm yours," I said out loud. "Fuck...I'm yours..."

I came hard. My body snapped tight. My hips jerked and my fingers didn't stop until I was shaking, gasping, dripping down my thighs.

And even then, I still wasn't done thinking about him.