Seventh Seduction

SEVENTH SEDUCTION  

Amech Sunday

 

DIRTY MEETING ON A HEARTBREAK NIGHT.

*NOTE: Every POV is Lilysaint’s voice, except where noted.*

“I know what you want,” I said, breath ragged, fighting to hold my emotions in check, “but I’m going to let you have it.”

It was driving me insane. I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“What do I want?” The slim, tall man asked, his arm slung casually across my shoulders like he already owned the moment.

You don’t even know what you want, I seethed silently. You saw me on the road this late, offered a ride, and drove straight to a hotel suite? Are you mad?

I could’ve spat that out if he were my age-mate, but he looked old enough to know better. Heartbroken or not, a sliver of the good-girl upbringing still clung to me. It wouldn’t last till morning, though.

I shook my head and forced a pitiful smile.

“You and I both know you want to strip me bare, throw me on this bed, and make me cry for the second time today,” I muttered, keeping my face composed while my eyes barely registered the TV show on the wall.

He let out a low chuckle—overwhelmed, maybe, or just intrigued by how blunt I was.

“Crying the second time? How?” he asked, voice flat.

“I do not think I want to talk about it. I just know you’re about to make it happen again.”

“Not really, girl,” he whispered, his lips brushing my ear, nibbling lightly. A shiver raced down my spine, sinful heat flooding every inch of me. A violent urge to throw myself across the bed hit hard. 

I lack control being with a man in a secret place.

That was exactly why I’d never visited Kova at his place. Even at twenty-one, I wasn’t ready to be banged. I’d held out, saving it for our us. I wanted our marriage—the old-school way: the struggle, the pain, the blood on our first night. 

I can't believe Kova sent me pictures proving he was marrying someone else tomorrow. 

Just like that. Someone I was with yesterday.

I’d called him a thousand times. No answer.

How long had he even known this girl to set a date already? He’d been cheating while swearing he loved only me. Men! God punish them.

The anger twisted with bitterness inside me.

Staring at the giant toy statue by the wall—its exaggerated, veined hardness—sparked a twisted curiosity. I wanted to compare it to the tall man's. I was ready to do it myself against his will, even if it meant stepping out of my way. I was emotionally wrecked and couldn’t help myself anymore.

“Do what you’re thinking or I walk out right now.” I purred, keeping the full burn of my anger leashed. I meant every word. I didn’t care about the time or where I’d end up.

His hand froze on my shoulder. My words had hit him hard.

I reached for the side zipper of my dress and slid it down slowly, exposing bare skin and the thin strap of my bra crossing the open gap.

He probably thought I was a runs girl or completely wayward now.

Then he kissed me. I gripped his neck and kissed back—deep, hungry, tongues tangling until the whole room felt thick with our heat.

I didn’t care what came next. I just needed something—anything—to melt the rock lodged in my chest. Kova had fucked me up today. I wouldn’t forget in ten years.

Sparks flared behind my eyes as the kiss turned desperate, our bodies tense and burning at the proximity. My skin ached for more.

I pulled him up from the bed. We kissed harder, eyes locked, speaking without words. I felt him squirming under his trousers, thick and insistent. It's pressure against me was intoxicating. Impatient, I yanked his zip down and tugged everything off. His shaft sprang free, hard and alive.

I knew so much of bad things, but refused to do them. Well right now, those good-girl days are over.

I dropped to my knees and took his length in my mouth without a word, tongue working him slowly at first, then faster. He groaned—stupid, wild sounds that made me wonder if he was new to this. At his age? Unlikely.

I kept on for some time making him craziest he could be. He stared down at me like he’d lost his mind, all that cool handsomeness drowned in raw lust.

I pulled back, sat on the bed, and watched him tensed and trembling.

He pounced like a lion. My clothes vanished in seconds hipping on my ankles. Understanding the moment, I walked out of them. He threw me onto the bed just like I’d pictured.

We kissed again—fierce, messy. His hands roamed everywhere, stoking the fire until I was horny and dripping. Naked skin on naked skin, every touch electric. I hadn’t done much in life, but I’d read, watched, learned. His fumbling wasn’t expert, but my inexperience gave him the edge. I lay there down on the bed for him, helpless, ready to be ruined. His clumsy efforts had me soaked anyway.

He pressed in to find his way right into me,

Surprise!

There was no way. He dared harder, a finger wouldn’t even slide through.

“Virgin!” he gasped, shocked. “You didn’t tell me you were a virgin.” He stated furiously about to quit. I clamped my arms around him. I’d decided tonight was the night. No turning back. I have to forfeit the damn thing that made me lose my hard-earned boyfriend.

He tried again, reluctant now. It must’ve been torture for him. He slicked himself with spit—again and again to get through—but the pain was now overwhelming. I shoved him off before he got me injured.

We collapsed side by side, staring at the TV. From the corner of my eye, I saw he was still rock-hard. Anger and frustration mixed inside me: fury that he couldn’t finish what he started, pain from the failed attempts.

* * * * * *

Less than ten minutes later, he was snoring. Deep asleep. His manhood had gone back to normal. I tapped him—no response.

I wasn’t leaving without breaking this curse—the thing that cost me the man I loved. Not for Kova anymore. For me. To move on.

My gaze drifted back to the huge toy statue. I slipped off the bed and examined the design. The sculpted dick was thick, veined, impossibly tempting. I worked it free from the entire frame.

In the bathroom—no lotion, only soap that smelled awful. I grabbed my lip gloss instead, coated it thickly, and returned to the bed.

Slowly, I guided it in with some force. Pleasure and pain twisted together as I moved in—gentle at first, then deeper. I tried hard not remember Kova’s message. It could make me hurt myself out of anger. The wedding invite kept flashing behind my eyes. I fought it.

As the rhythm built, the moment of pain and pleasure going on enjoyably, the tall man awake. His eyes snapped open and locked on me.

“What the heck!” He muttered dizzily turning to me.