Page 22 of Mine to Keep

“Please,” she begged and tried to move her hips only to have him press harder against her immobilizing her.

“I’ll take care of you,” he reminded her.

The next thing she felt was pressure. It took her a moment to realize he was pressing his cock into her. When she started to stiffen, he started pinching her clit as he continued to surge into her.

Her thoughts splintered at the same time he pushed through her cherry and as far as he could go into her cunt. She was vaguely aware that there had been a burst of pain when he broke through but hadn’t felt the impact like she normally would have because of his distractions.

Roland held still for a moment, rested his elbows on either side of her head, and pressed a sweet kiss on her lips.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

She assessed her body. “I feel stretched, but it’s not painful. My stomach is still tight.”

“When I make you come, it will help with that. You’ll eventually get used to the size of my cock, but until then, I’ll go easy on you.”

Roland kissed her a few times. “Tell me if you feel any pain.”

Laila gripped his shoulders and nodded.

He started off slowly. After a few minutes, the ache in her stomach grew exponentially.

“Please, Roland. Make the ache go away.”

“I’ll take care of you.”

His thrusts became faster and harder, and it still wasn’t enough to make her feel better. She felt his fingers come between them again, and his assault on her clit was harder than before. Just that bit of erotic pain was enough to throw her over. A scream tore from her throat, echoing throughout the room.

When it was finished, she collapsed to the mattress and held on while he took his own pleasure. She was thrilled by the deep groan that came from him because it told her she’d pleased him.

After a moment, he rolled them to the side and pulled her against his chest.

Laila still felt like she was floating with the aftermath of the pleasure he’d given her. She wondered if it was wrong to ask him to do it again.

Chapter Ten

A week later, Laila had her head on his shoulder after a long afternoon of sex. “What was your childhood like? Did you know your mom?”

She felt him sigh, and then his fingers skate up and down her back. “Yes. She was very sweet and timid. I don’t know if she was always like that or if my father broke her spirit.”

She tilted her head back and looked up at him. “Why do you say that?”

“He raised me to think of women as nothing but a body for sex. He felt, or maybe still feels, like women aren’t smart and don’t have minds of their own.”

“If he raised you, why aren’t you like that?” she asked.

“My mother. We spent a lot of time together. My father tried to keep us apart because he thought she was making me weak. He even tried to send me to a boarding school to get me away from her.”

She could feel the residual anger he felt as a child. “What happened?”

“My mother called her own mother, my grandmother. I guess the woman was formidable. She ran their family business because her father died unexpectedly at a young age, and being the only child, my grandmother took over. There was nothing timid about her,” he said and grinned.

“Is she still alive?” she asked.

“No. My grandmother passed away when I was nineteen. I was only fourteen when I lost my mother.”

“Can I ask how she died?” Laila asked.

“Yes. It was a car accident.”

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