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As we eat, the conversation flows, and the earlier tension melts away. Elio tells me stories of his childhood and growing up in the shadow of his family’s legacy. I find myself opening up in return, sharing pieces of myself I’ve never shared with anyone.
As the evening wears on, I feel a warmth blooming in my chest, a feeling I’ve never quite experienced before. It’s not love but infatuation. It feels dangerously like hope.
Elio pays for the check before guiding me out of the restaurant and into the waiting town car.
The door shuts with a soft thud, cocooning us in our own private world. The air between us feels charged, electric, with the promise of something more.
Elio’s hand finds my thigh, his fingers squeezing gently. The touch ignites a fire in my belly. I turn to him, my breath catching as I meet his intense gaze.
And then his soft lips are on mine. I melt into the kiss, my body molding to his as his hand slides up my thigh, disappearing beneath the hem of my dress.
But as his fingers graze the lace of my panties, a jolt of panic shoots through me. I tense, pulling away from the kiss with a gasp.
Elio looks at me, confusion and concern etched onto his handsome face. “What’s wrong?”
I feel the heat of shame creeping up my neck, coloring my cheeks. I avert my gaze, suddenly finding the car’s floor incredibly interesting.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, tensing. “I just... I’ve never...”
The words stick in my throat, choking me. How do I tell him? How do I admit to this gorgeous, experienced man that I’m untouched, a virgin in every sense of the word?
But Elio, ever perceptive, seems to understand. He takes my hand, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over my knuckles.
“Hey,” he says softly, tilting my chin to meet his gaze. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”
The gentleness of his touch is almost too much. I feel the sting of tears and the weight of my inexperience crushing down on me.
“I’m a virgin,” I blurt out, the words tumbling from my lips before I can stop them. “I’ve never been with anyone before.”
His jaw clenches, and the look in his eyes is one of rage. I expect him to kick me out, hearing I’m an inexperienced virgin, but instead, he swallows hard and says, “Fuck.”
“I can get my own way back if you want to?—”
He grabs my chin, making me look at him. “Don’t be ashamed, princess. You being a virgin only makes me want you more.” He kisses me softly and then moves to my ear, whispering, “I want to be the man to claim you. The first and only man to fuck you.”
I gasp at his dirty words but they ignite a fire deep within. Instead of pulling back, I kiss him. His tongue delves into my mouth as if he’s trying to consume me, and I let him. I’ve never been so turned on before.
I straddle Elio’s lap in the back of the town car, our kisses growing more heated and desperate by the second. His hands grip my hips, pulling me flush against him. That’s when I feel it - the unmistakable, hard press of his arousal against my pussy. Even through the layers of fabric between us, there’s no mistaking his impressive size.
A gasp escapes my lips at the intimate contact. It sends a shockwave of desire through me but also a jolt of panic. The reality of the situation crashes over me like a bucket of ice water, dousing the flames of passion.
I break the kiss, pulling back to look at Elio. His eyes are dark with lust, his lips swollen from our kisses. He’s beautiful and tempting, but he’s also practically a stranger.
“Wait,” I whisper, my voice shaky. “I... I can’t. Not yet.”
Elio’s brow furrows. “What’s wrong, princess?” His voice is husky with desire.
I swallow hard, trying to find the right words. “This is... It’s too fast. I barely know you. I’m not ready to take this step, not yet.”
He studies me for a long moment, his gray eyes searching mine. Then, slowly, he nods. “I understand. I don’t want to rush you into anything you’re uncomfortable with.”
Relief floods through me at his acceptance. I feared he might pressure me or try to convince me to continue. But he doesn’t. He respects my boundaries.
Carefully, I climb off his lap, settling back into the seat beside him. The air between us is still charged and heavy with unresolved tension.
“I meant what I said earlier. I want to get to know you, the real you. And if that means taking things slow, then that’s what we’ll do.” Even though he sounds genuine, there’s an odd glint in his eyes, as if he’s not used to taking things slow.
I squeeze his hand. “Thank you, Elio. That means a lot to me.”
