Page 67 of Release Me

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

I’ve seen a lot of dicks in my day. Far more than I’d have liked to, but I’ve never seen anything like this. Given his stature, I knew Sebastian would be working with considerable length or substantial girth, but I wasn’t expecting him to have both. His dick is almost as thick as my forearm and nearly as long, and there’s no way on God’s green Earth that all of that is fitting inside me.

Sebastian grins, gripping and stroking the battering ram between his legs that’s pointed right at me. “Don’t worry, precious, I’ll go slow.”

His promise is delivered in a deliciously dark tone that has my knees falling away from each other and my core clenching with anticipation. Suddenly, I don’t care about how big he is or how long its been or the fact that I’ve never done this consensually, all that matters is I’m empty and he’s the only person that can fill me up.

I pull in a deep, calming breath, banishing all thoughts of pain to the back of my mind and nod to let Sebastian know I heard what he said. “Come here.”

His eyes go soft, ripples of appreciation and wonder interrupting the still surface of pools of champagne as he climbs onto the bed and settles himself between my legs. He leans in for a kiss, and the flared tip of his dick nudges my entrance. Our breaths come together in a tangled hiss that demands us to do anything but stop. Anything but abandon lust for logic and desire for reason. And even though I know we both know better, we obey the primal order without a second thought.

Sebastian surges forward, and I meet his thrust with a roll of my hips that seats him at the end of me. He moans in my ear, and his locs brush my cheek repeatedly as he sets a rhythm that contradicts his promise. There’s nothing slow about this, but it feels right because slow wouldn’t have my bed frame knocking into the wall. Slow wouldn’t have beads of sweat blooming on Sebastian’s back and ass as he pounds into me. Slow wouldn’t have the euphoria that’s always eluded me spreading through my limbs like the first spark of a wildfire hunting for something to turn it into a real flame.

“Sebastian!” I cry out, holding on to him for dear life, something close to panic rolling through me as my body starts to come apart underneath his.

“Don’t fight it, precious,” he murmurs in my ear, tracing the shell of it with his tongue. “You deserve this, don’t you, baby? You deserve to be fucked like this. To come so hard you can’t see straight on a dick big enough to touch the end of you and still go deeper.”

To prove his point, he pushes further, stretching me to my absolute limit with one deep stroke after another while I dig my nails into his ass and grind my clit into his pelvic bone. It’s all so fucking perfect. The man. The dick. The filthy, filthy words he’s chanting in my ear that make my muscles seize and my core melt.

Sebastian recognizes the tremors that indicate my orgasm before I do. When they start, he lifts up just enough to treat me to a triumphant smile that I hold in my mind’s eye as my body cedes to an onslaught of pleasure the likes of which it’s never seen before. It obliterates me, rendering me motionless as Sebastian increases his pace, finding satisfaction at the tail end of a set of rhythmic strokes that have his dick pulsing as he empties himself inside of me.

We’re both panting and sated as he collapses on the bed next to me, close enough that the ragged breaths leaving his mouth shift my hair which, as Zoe predicted, has been ruined by our efforts. Sebastian turns on his side and loops an arm around my waist, pulling me back into him. I turn over so I can face him, tossing my leg over his hip.

“That really happened,” I muse, fighting back tears for some odd reason.

Sebastian clocks the glossiness in my eyes immediately and frowns when it turns to actual tears. “You okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, you didn’t hurt me.” I’m doing that odd smiling/crying combination I did with Desiree yesterday, and he looks far more concerned than she did. I guess it’s a bit more alarming when you’re lying in bed with the person caught between two very different emotions. I wipe my tears away with an impatient swipe of my fingers. “I’m fine. I promise. I just, I didn’t know it could be like that.”

His fingers walk a line up my back, tracing the notches in my spine. “What? Sex?”

“Yeah, I’ve never…” I pause, trying to choose my words carefully so my trauma doesn’t ruin this moment. “Never mind.”

But it’s too late, Sebastian has already gone still, the wheels in his brain working to try to put the pieces together. “You’ve never what?”

“Just leave it alone, Sebastian.” It feels kind of counter intuitive to tell a man to mind his business when you’ve literally got his cum leaking out of you, but I’m willing to do whatever is necessary to salvage our night.

“Don’t do that. Don’t shut me out, not after what we just shared.”

The smile from my weird emotional combo is now gone, leaving me with nothing but tears and memories I’m scared to lend my voice to even though there’s a part of me that wants to share, that’s tired of carrying shame that doesn’t belong to me all on my own.

I let out a long sigh and call up every ounce of strength I can muster, knowing I’ll need it for the conversation we’re about to have. Sebastian is quiet, and his breathing is shallow, and I hope that silence and stillness means he’s preparing himself for some ugly truths.

“I was a sophomore in high school when my parents died.” Just saying those words has my heart rate kicking up a notch. I try to calm myself by touching the tips of each of my fingers to the center of the hand resting against Sebastian’s back. “I don’t know what that grade was like for you, but for me it was the most confusing year ever.”

Sebastian’s fingers are gentle as they push some of my hair out of my face. “Your parents died, baby, of course it was confusing for you.”

“Right, but it wasn’t just that. It was my parents dying and the world continuing to spin. It was my supposed best friend telling me about how she lost her virginity in the back of her boyfriend’s Range Rover at the repast. It was coming back to school and finding that everyone was suddenly having sex.”

“Everyone except you.”

“Exactly. Because no one wants to hook up with the depressed girl with the dead parents.”

“Did you want to hook up with them?”

I shake my head, remembering what I was like that year. Crying all day and all night, sleeping in class, skipping school and stealing Roland’s car to drive out to the vineyard just to feel close to my parents. Sex was the furthest thing from my mind.

“No,” I say finally. “All I wanted was for my parents to come back and for my life to return to normal, but of course, that didn’t happen. If you can believe it, life actually got worse. My guardian sold the house I grew up in without even asking me and moved us away.”

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