Page 73 of Tempest

“Trying to answer who you really are,” I admit through heady breaths.

Tempest reaches up and clasps one of my breasts, squeezing possessively. “I’m a man who wants you to beg, not to learn.”

His thumb flicks over my hard nipple before he digs his nail in. I exclaim, whimper, and squirm.

Satisfied, Tempest resumes his meal, burying his nose inside me as well as his mouth and focusing on my clit to the point of causing uncomfortable ecstasy. My motion is limited, and I can’t escape the endless sensation. It builds so fast that the orgasm bolts through me and leaves me wanting.

Tempest isn’t done, and he brings me to another explosion, then another, within minutes.

The chair is soaked under my bottom, against his chin. I’m loose and limbless, barely able to hold my head up.

Vaguely, I hear Tempest get to his feet. He uses the tops of my thighs as leverage as if his legs have turned to jelly, too.

There’s a snick, then a tug at my ankles as he swipes through the zip ties with a blade.

“Get up.”

Leaning forward, I brace my hands on the chair’s arms, rising with effort. I’m a sore, swollen puddle. Never in my wildest dreams did I think this is what losing your virginity looks like.

I don’t want to admit how much I loved it.

Once I’ve fully straightened, I open my eyes in time to register Tempest’s hand gripping the back of my neck and propelling me forward. My feet fight to keep up with my upward momentum until I’m slammed against the concrete wall, my cheek pressed against the cold, rough surface.

Tempest growls into my ear. “You don’t speak of tonight. Do you hear me?”

I nod, though his fingers squeeze the tendons of my neck to the point of excruciating pain.

Is he ashamed of this? Of what we’ve done?

“You don’t have to worry about me saying a word.” I force the words out of my stiff jaw. “Because this is the last time you’ll ever touch me.”

His grip spasms against my nape. “Excuse me?”

“You want me to leave campus? Well, I want you to see me every day, realize what you had, and that you can’t get it back.”

I’m pretty impressed with my ability to sound so sure while Tempest bullies me against a wall. The idea came in haphazard fragments, gaining momentum the longer he took to ravish my body. He could’ve come in two seconds, satisfied himself, and left me tied to a chair. Instead, he did the opposite. Pleasuring me, enjoying bringing me pain before erasing it with ecstasy.

My past has taught me a lot. I was ten when trauma became a permanent fixture in my mind, but I learned how to watch, learn, and stay alive.

And this is how I’ll do it now, save for how much I’ll suffer by not experiencing Tempest again. However, I’ll die a happy girl if this is the one sexual experience I’ll remember.

My confidence takes a nose-dive when a sharp sting blooms against the tip of my bum.

“Is that what you think is going to happen, princess?”

The knife. He didn’t let it go.

I cringe, half of it squished against the wall.

Tempest releases my neck, and for a stupid second, I think I’m free before the same pressure builds against my anus, cutting and sudden.

I scream, my hands slamming against the wall alongside my face.

He didn’t just stick a knife inside me. He didn’t.

Whimpering, I force myself still, some part of me acknowledging the more I move, the more damage it’ll cause.

Then there’s a wriggle of movement deep inside me.

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