Page 69 of Obsession

He’s a pro at this.

But he should be. He’s a grown-ass man.

Quickly releasing me, he orders me to “Turn around.”

The deep tones delivering the order make a shiver run down my spine, and I hesitate, feeling super nervous. I’ve had sex before, barely, but do I really know what I’m doing? Can I keep up with a man who has probably been with dozens, if not hundreds, of women?

“I won’t ask again, Megan,” Hunter murmurs in a tone that demands obedience.

He’s not touching me anymore, and I slowly turn around to face him.

“Have you ever slept with a man?” He asks, watching me (and my nipples) quite intently.

It’s difficult to answer that question without blushing. I seem to have lost all of my bravado when I’m standing bare-chested in front of him.

“I asked you a question.”

I don’t know why my knees feel so weak when he uses this particular tone.

“Once, a boy from-“

“I’m talking about men.” His voice is dark as he puts his hands on both sides of me on the table, effectively caging me in. “I’m not going to make love to you, Megan. I’m going to fuck you just like you asked me to. So, I want to know if you’ve been fucked before.”

I don’t know the difference between the two, but I do know that my previous partner never made me feel... like this.

When I stare at him, he cups my breast with one hand, and my nipples pebble painfully hard at the touch. He rolls one of the nubs between his thumb and forefinger.

“Clearly not.”

He pauses before suddenly pulling at my nipple and making me gasp at the sliver of pain.

“So, let me teach you a few things.”

His fingers immediately soothe the aching flesh, and he lowers his head to lap it before taking it into his mouth. I can’t stop the sounds from slipping out of my mouth. This rush of electricity wherever he touches my skin is driving me insane.

He lets go of my nipple with a plopping sound and then murmurs, “I’m not going to treat you like a piece of china. I’m going to break you. I’m going to fuck your mouth and then your pussy, and you’re going to like it. I’m going to make sure that you don’t even remember your own name when we’re done.”

His hand takes mine and pulls it toward his pants. “Take out my dick.”

My hands are shaking with his promises, my legs rubbing against each other as I feel the dampness in my panties. I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into, but I can’t bring myself to turn back now. I know I’m about to experience something life-changing, and I’m all for it.

What happens in Paris stays in Paris.

I fumble with his zipper and then he stops me, before taking my hand and guiding me to the armchair. He sprawls onto it first, his posture relaxed, looking every bit of the businessman that he is. His suit jacket is neatly folded and resting against the back of the armchair and the sleeves of his white shirt are rolled up.

I stand in front of him, clueless about what to do next as he studies me.

“Take off your pants.”

As we toured the city today, I wore a cute spaghetti-strapped blouse with tiny pink flowers and dark blue pencil pants. I felt very Parisian in it. I slowly unzip and push the pants to the floor, feeling a little dizzy from the champagne. I almost tip over butthen catch myself. Now, the only thing between me and Hunter is a pair of white lace panties.

“Fucking beautiful,” he compliments me under his breath.

He continues to stare at me as I press my lips together, unsure of what to do now.

“Are you drunk, Megan?”

“No.”

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