Page 23 of Worthy

But I felt out of control, and Cassius Blackwood never felt out of control.

Faith was perfect. She was an absofuckinglutely perfect virgin. No one had ever taken her before. She was mine. She was everything I’d ever wanted, and my desire for her was powerful, inexorable. It was bigger than me. It made me feel… helpless.

And Cassius Blackwood never felt helpless.

“Go to the chaise,” I instructed, motioning to the convertible lounge chair that each private room boasted.

Faith hesitated, then did as she was told.

“Bend over it. Ass in the air,” I said coldly. I had to stay icy, detached. The fire raging in me was almost unbearable. I couldn’t loosen my grip and let down my guard, because all of my carefully constructed control would go down in flames.

She looked at me with wide, wild eyes. When I held her gaze, she swallowed hard. “Yes, Sir.”

Faith did as she was told. She bent over the chaise, her exquisite, round ass in the air.

“Spread your legs.”

She edged them apart and I was confronted with her perfect, pink, smooth sex. It was the most glorious sight I’d ever beheld.

All day, I’d fantasized about taking my time with her, running my hands down her smooth skin, burying my face in her hair, inhaling her sweet scent. Opening her up bit by bit, readying her for me to penetrate her. But taking things slowly seemed dangerous right now. My head throbbed. I wanted her so badly, I almost felt possessed.

It was better to make it more detached, more clinical, strictly physical, and about the sex. I approached her from behind. “I’m going to enjoy this, Faith. But I promise you’re going to enjoy it more.”

She glanced back at me, eyes wild. I grabbed the room’s remote control and pressed a button. A panel rolled back, revealing an enormous mirror on the wall. “Watch in the mirror, Faith. I want you to see me. I want you to see what I do to you.”

She jerked her head in the direction of the mirror. Her mouth was open in a little o, her eyes were wide, and her flaxen hair tumbled over her shoulders. She was helpless beneath me, her breath coming fast and shallow. She was mine for the taking.

I sank down onto my knees, her sex directly in front of me. Never had I seen a woman’s body so pure, pink, and perfect. Her pussy was wet, glistening along its gilded edges. Faith squirmed as she waited for me to touch her.

I took a deep breath, and then I finally allowed myself to put my hands on her glorious ass. I hissed as my skin touched hers, gasoline meeting fire. I kneaded her juicy curves, and she whimpered beneath me. I caught Faith’s eyes in the mirror; her pupils were dilated. She was turned on, and she probably didn’t even know it.

“Have you ever received oral sex before, Faith?” I already knew the answer. I’d read her intake questionnaire—Faith was a virgin in every sense of the word.

“N-No, Sir,” she said haltingly.

“Good. I want to be your first everything,” I admitted.

“Yes, Sir.” She spread her legs a little wider as I continued to knead her ass. I blew on her sex, and she shivered, muscles contracting.

I took a deep breath, inhaling her scent, readying myself.

And then I began.

My tongue darted up and down her slit—I’d never tasted anything so delicious before, so pure. She shook beneath me, surprised, but I held her ass cheeks firm. I was in control. Finally, I relaxed a little. I was in charge. I would make Faith come so hard she forgot what her name was.

My tongue darted up her slit to her clit. I flicked it repeatedly, gently at first.

“Oh. Oh!” Faith cried.

“You can make noise now,” I instructed. “I encourage it.”

I dove back into her sex, licking and sucking and exploring, all the while grabbing her luscious ass possessively, pulling her against me. I was gentle as I explored. But Faith started to get more aroused, grunting and whimpering, her sex quivering and pulsing beneath me.

She was driving me wild.

We got into a rhythm. Faith’s sex was coated in wetness—from me, from her. As I licked the length of her slit, she bucked back against me, moaning. Hot pride bloomed in my chest. She cried out; Faith was obviously enjoying herself.

I was Faith’s teacher—her one, her only. Her first. No one would touch her but me. I owned her.

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