Page 12 of Stolen By the Mountain Man

“Facing the screen,” I said. “Like you’re just sitting on my lap. Trust me.”

My fiancée climbed onto my lap, and I held her in place for a second while I slid the condom on my erection. Then I helped her balance, and she parted her legs, her feet on either side of me, and used her hand to guide my tip to her entrance.

“Oh, damn, that feels good,” I said, closing my eyes.

“Shh!” she whispered. “You don’t want anybody to overhear.”

Oh, right. She slid a little deeper onto me and stopped. While I took a deep breath, I thought about just how hot this was. Deep down, I knew it was fantasy, but it sure felt like we were in a real theater with rows of people behind us, all having no idea what was going on up here. Daphne was short enough that my body would block her from view, after all. But, of course, if this were reality, they would have wondered how the hot blonde had ended up out of her seat and on my lap.

“Fuck—oh shit, that hurts!”

Her sudden shriek forced me to freeze all movement. Hurts? Was I too big for her? What was going on? She froze too, holding herself in her frog position with a hand gripping either armrest.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

I wanted to make it stop right away, whatever it was. Right now, that meant not doing any more damage, but my biggest urge was to push her off me and do whatever it took to make her feel better. Medicine, hugs, bringing her to orgasm with my finger again. Instead, she eased upward a little, then down.

“I should tell you something,” she said. “I probably should have told you before we even started. You might not want to be doing this once you learn.”

I couldn’t see her face, and that was making this even harder. I wanted to know what emotions were playing over those delicate features.

“Maybe we should stop,” I said.

It took everything in me to say those words. I was inside her, after all, and my body was saying no, but my mind was shouting, “Her comfort first.” I couldn’t enjoy any of this if I knew she was in pain.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Is it something medical? Can I help?”

I wasn’t sure how I could possibly help with her medical issues, but if it meant holding off on this, I was definitely on board. I’d wait, no matter how long it took.

“I’m a virgin,” she said. “Ow.”

That last part was added like she hadn’t just dropped a huge truth bomb on me. A virgin. Not only did I have a mail-order bride, but a virgin mail-order bride. The whole thing seemed very old-fashioned.

“I’ll understand if you don’t want to do this,” she said. “I know being with a virgin is a whole set of responsibilities, but we’re getting married, anyway.”

Good point. Of course, we were getting married. Being a virgin only made her more special.

She was mine. No other man had touched her—at least not in the way I would.

“Have you had an orgasm before tonight?” I asked.

“Yes. Self-induced, of course.”

Self-induced orgasms. That was one way to put it.

The thought of her touching herself made my cock twitch. Yeah, holding out was just as difficult as it had been before she told me what was going on with her body.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do it like this,” I said. “It’s your first time. We could go upstairs to my bed.”

“No,” she said. “I want to push through. It’s getting easier.”

She’d been bouncing on me as she talked. Small, subtle movements. But I felt every one of them, even through the condom. Hell, she could hold still and just breathe and I’d feel it.

“It only hurts the first time, right?” she asked.

She was asking me? I had no idea. Yeah, my first time had been with a virgin, but we’d both been nervous and fumbly and awkward. I did remember that she’d been in pain, but we’d pushed past it, and each time had been easier after that.

Until she dumped me for my best friend.

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