3

Sloane's POV

The wet heat of it sent a strange, unwanted shiver straight down my spine.

God, something stirred inside me that I couldn’t explain.

A low, treacherous heat that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the way his body pressed against mine.

Before I could even think of pushing him away, he moved. He spun me with surprising strength, my back hitting the wall with a dull thud.

The nightie was shoved roughly up over my hips. Cool air kissed the bare skin of my ass for half a second—and then the thick, blunt head of his cock pressed against me.

He pushed his cock inside my ass in one long, relentless stroke.

My eyes widened.

A sharp, broken sound tore from my throat as the stretch burned deep and sudden, forcing me open around him.

He was big, thicker than , and he didn’t stop banging me until his hips were flush against me.

One hand gripped my hip hard enough to bruise. The other came down in a stinging spank across my ass that made me jerk forward onto him.

Another spank on my butt again and he thrust deeper.

“Let me go!” I screamed in pain, adrenaline rushed inside me.

He kept fucking me and didn't even care how painful it was.

“Please, it hurts!” I cried but he replied with another hotel spank on my ass cheeks.

Then he pulled out of me slowly, the drag of it making my breath catch, then turned me roughly to face him.

His mouth smashed against mine in a fierce, whiskey-sour kiss—all teeth and demand.

I tried to push him off, palms flat against the hard wall of his chest, but he was far stronger than me. His hands held me easily, body pinning mine to the wall, the heat of him still pressed between us as if the interruption had only made him more determined.

He stayed inside me for a long moment after he finished, still breathing hard, his forehead pressed against the side of my neck.

I've never felt this before in my life, even though I'm not a teenager anymore but I don’t know how it feels to be fucked.

I could feel him softening slowly, the thick length of him still buried deep in my sore, used cunt. Tears kept sliding down my temples into my hair.

My chest hitched with quiet, broken sobs I couldn’t seem to stop.

“Please…” My voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper. “Please get off me…it still hurts…”

He didn’t move right away. Instead he shifted his hips just enough to make me flinch and let out another soft, pained sound.

A low hum left his throat—half satisfaction, half something darker—and then I heard it.

“Lark…” he moaned my sister's name, he fucking moaned my sister’s name, while fucking me raw.

My chest ached, I've always imagined my first time with a good man, not a man that will moan my sister’s name, a tear slid down my cheeks.

He pulled out slowly. The drag of his cock leaving my body made me sob once more. I felt the wet heat of his come and my own blood sliding down between my thighs, soaking into the sheets.

My legs trembled. Everything between them throbbed with a deep, raw ache.

A fresh whimper escaped me.

“It hurts…” I whispered, voice cracking. “I’ve never… please, just let me…”

His hand slid down my hip and over the curve of my ass, possessive and unhurried. He leaned in close enough that I could still smell the whiskey on his breath.

“Lark,” he said again, like he was reminding himself. Or reminding me that it's Lark he loved, not me, even though he's having sex with me.

His fingers dipped between my thighs, sliding through the mess he had left inside me. I flinched hard and tried to close my legs, but he pushed them back open with his knee.

“Please don’t…” The plea came out wet and shaky. Fresh tears spilled over. “I’m sore…I’m still bleeding… please…”

He ignored the words. Two fingers pushed into my swollen, tender entrance, slow but deep enough to make me cry out. The stretch burned.

My virgin body was too raw, too freshly taken. I sobbed into the pillow, hands fisting the sheets.

“Lark,” he groaned under his breath as he worked his fingers inside me, feeling how tight and wet and used I still was. “Still so fucking tight…baby…”

“Stop…please stop…” I begged, the words tumbling out between hitching breaths. “It hurts…I can’t…please…”

He didn’t stop. He kept touching me, exploring the places he had just claimed, while I stood there crying and pleading.

When he finally withdrew his fingers they were slick with his come and my blood. He wiped them carelessly across my inner thigh, then carried me to lay on the bed and rolled fully on top of me again.

I felt the hard length of him pressing against me once more, already half-hard again, thick and insistent.

“No…” My eyes widened. Panic and exhaustion tangled in my chest. “Please, not again…I can’t take it…I’m a virgin, you’re going to tear me…”

He pushed the head of his cock against my sore entrance and sank back in with a heavy, satisfied groan.

“Lark…” he groaned, moaning as he buried himself to the hilt in one slow, relentless stroke.

The stretch was worse this time. It made me sob openly, turning my face into the pillow as if I could hide from the pain and the sound of him calling me by my sister’s name.

He started moving deeply, giving me steady thrusts that forced broken little cries from my throat with every stroke.

One of his hands pinned both of my wrists above my head again. The other slid under my hips, tilting me up so he could fuck into me even deeper.

“Please…please slow down…it hurts so much…” My voice was wrecked, thick with tears. “I’m begging you…please…”

“Lark,” he muttered against my ear, the name rough and possessive, and kept thrusting. The wet, filthy sound of him moving inside my used cunt filled the room.

Every time he pulls out of me I feel the dull, aching press of him against my cervix. Fresh tears kept falling. My body shook under him.

“Please…please slow down… it hurts so much…” My voice was wrecked, thick with tears. “I’m begging you…please…”

“Lark,” he muttered against my ear, the name rough and possessive, and kept thrusting. The wet, filthy sound of him moving inside my used cunt filled the room.

Every time he pulled almost all the way out and drove back in, I felt the dull, aching press of him against my cervix.

Fresh tears kept falling. My body shook under him.

The stretch was still too much—swollen, raw, virgin-tight even after he had already taken me once. Every deep stroke forced another broken sob from my throat.

He didn’t slow down his pace and it was as if the sound of my crying seemed to drive him harder. His hips snapped forward again and again, the bedframe creaking beneath us.

One hand stayed locked around both of my wrists above my head.

The other slid up my side and closed over my breast, squeezing hard enough to make me whimper.

Then his mouth found the same breast.

He latched on with sudden, greedy hunger, sucking the nipple deep into his mouth like a starving child.

The wet heat of it made me cry out.

His tongue dragged over the sensitive peak in rough, insistent strokes while he continued to fuck into me, never breaking the rhythm of his hips.

Soft, muffled moans of her name vibrated against my skin. And I hate it, but unfortunately I can't even slap him so hard on the face for moaning another woman's name while he fuck me.

“Lark…your breasts feel so good…”

“Please…” I sobbed, turning my face into the pillow. “Please stop…my breasts…inside…everything hurts…”

He only sucked harder, cheeks hollowing, pulling at the soft flesh until it ached. When that nipple was swollen and glistening he moved to the other breast without missing a thrust, latching on with the same desperate need.

His free hand kneaded the first breast, thumb brushing the wet peak he had just left, as if he needed both at once.

I kept begging. I kept crying. The words spilled out between broken gasps.

“Please, it hurts, I’m still bleeding, slow down…” but he didn’t listen.

He fucked me deeper, sucked me harder, and every few strokes the name left him again in a rough, hungry moan.

“Lark baby…so tight…”