Page 28 of The Good Girl

He drags my skirt up my thighs, revealing my underwear. He looks down and smirks.

I huff, feeling my face flush. If I’d known a boy was going to see my panties today, I probably wouldn’t have worn my She-Ra ones.

“Cute, but they’ve got to go. Therapist’s orders.”

“You don’t have a therapist.” I yelp as he grabs my underwear and tugs them down my legs.

“Sure, I do. To help me deal with my phobia.”

He pushes my legs apart, making me yelp again as I try to push him away.

“And what exactly is this so-called phobia that needs you to be down there?” I ask as he settles between my legs.

“Vaginaphobia.”

I freeze and look down at him. “That’s not a real thing. You just made that up.”

He shakes his head. “It’s true. I spent a long time around men, and now pussies make me nervous.”

Yeah, right. He’s totally full of shit.

“Well, you don’t look nervous now, so move.”

“My therapist recommends exposure therapy.”

Before I can roll my eyes, the man’s tongue is on me—on me and in me, flicking my clit, then dipping inside me to lick up my arousal.

Dear sweet baby Jesus, I never understood what all the fuss was about, but now I get it. It’s like trying to explain how chocolate tastes to someone who’s never had it.

Before I realize it, I’m grabbing handfuls of his damp hair, holding him to me. My hips lifting of their own accord, chasing… something. Wanting—no, needing—him closer.

“Come for me, Cupcake. I wanna see if you taste as sweet as you smell.”

And after a few more swipes of his tongue, I do, my back arching as he sucks my clit into his mouth.

When I finally catch my breath, I look down and find him grinning up at me, his chin slick with my arousal.

“Well, would you look at that?” he says, his voice full of satisfaction. “I’m cured.”

He crawls up my body and kisses me. I taste myself on his lips. It feels so wrong, but I can’t deny that I like it. When he pulls back, he lifts one of his large hands to cup my face, his thumb brushing my cheek.

“This is happening,” he says. “You’re mine, and I have no problem reminding you of that daily.”

“You always take what you want without caring about the consequences?” I whisper.

“When it comes to you, I guess I do.”

“I don’t even know you. You’re just the guy who stole my freaking virginity. What if I was saving myself for marriage?”

I wasn’t, but he doesn’t need to know that.

He frowns. “You climbed into my bed dressed like a wet dream, Cupcake. And you didn’t put up a fight. Fuck, your slick pussy welcomed me in.”

“I didn’t know it was your bed. G carried me there when I passed out,” I tell him. “He thought I’d be safe there.”

He leans in until his forehead touches mine. “Did I hurt you?”

I know if I say yes, he’ll let me go. But something tells me there’s more to this man than I realize, and I might end up doing more harm than I mean to. Besides, it didn’t really hurt. It was just… uncomfortable. He’s huge, and I’m…well, not.

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