Page 24 of First Time

“Shh...” I kissed her forehead.

“Where’s Stephen?”

“In Chantelle’s office, most likely.”

Some of the tension left her limbs. “I…climaxed.”

“You did,” I said, my lips returning to graze over her forehead.

“Oh, my God.” She clenched her eyes shut and frowned, her face flushing red. “That’s the first time… Stephen...”

“He wasn’t happy.”

Becky pulled from my hold, and although I yearned to keep her close, I let her go. She sat, knees drawn up and face buried in her arms. A shudder rippled through her, and I wrapped an arm around her shoulder, drawing her trembling form against me.

“He’s going to hurt me,” she whispered. “You too.”

“He’s not going to touch either of us.” I rubbed one hand along her back while reaching for a bottle of water I’d left nearby. “Here.” I uncapped and handed it to her.

She lifted her head and glanced around the room before taking my offer. Her smooth throat worked while sucking down the water.

The fear in her eyes remained after she finished, palpable and twisting my stomach.

I clenched my jaw against the need to break Stephen. “How about you go to the bathroom and clean up, then we’ll go talk to Chantelle?”

She nodded, and I helped her stand, thankful as fuck she’d taken my offered hand and managed to move seemingly well for how hard she’d climaxed and soared for me.

Her ass jiggled as she shuffled away, and I groaned. Her scent still clung to my nostrils. I lifted my hand I’d brushed over her clit to my nose and inhaled deeply, filling my lungs. Sweet and musky—God, how I wanted to explore her folds with my tongue, lips, and teeth.

Not until Stephen was a part of her past and she was ready to move on though. I refused to further any guilt she might feel for climaxing for me and not her asshole boyfriend.

I satisfied myself by licking over my fingers, catching a hint of her sweetness. My mouth watered for more.

Fighting off a raging boner, I wrapped up the ropes I’d used on her with precise slowness and determined focus.

Once Becky returned from the bathroom, face still pink and eyes wary, I took her hand without asking, still in a half-state of hardness. She didn’t tug away but moved in close as though needing comfort or hoping she could draw from my strength.

We walked the carpeted hallway in silence while I attempted to keep rising tension from owning my muscles. The rest of the evening belonged to Chantelle and whatever plan she had set up in that devious mind of hers.

We entered the lounge, and Becky tugged her hand from mine, stepping behind me, head down and shoulders slumped. Anger flared, and I pulled her back up alongside me, wrapping my hand around hers. “We’re not sceneing and you’re not my sub.” Yet, I wanted to add. “I want you to walk with me.”

She lifted her gaze to my face, eyes widened and inquisitive.

Offering a reassuring smile, I headed toward the lounge’s double doors leading to the entryway.

Chantelle had told me she would have Stephen wrangled into her office if he reacted to Becky’s release like she’d expected him to. She had said she would hold him there until Becky was calm and ready for the confrontation.

“Go get dressed,” I said, nodding toward the women’s locker room off the reception area.

“I only have a coat,” Becky said, “and Stephen has the key to the locker in his front pocket.”

Fucking dead of winter, and that asshole didn’t allow her any clothing. Talk about a complete hard-on killer. “There are robes on the back of the stall doors,” I told her, barely suppressing the anger from leaking into my voice. “Grab one of those for now.”

She returned a minute later, a navy-blue silk robe covering her from breasts to mid-thigh.

“Ready?” I asked, telling myself to focus on the task at hand rather than fantasizing about stripping her down again.

Face pale and lower lip between her teeth, she shook her head.

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