Page 89 of My Wedding Night Massacre

"Please—"

"Please what, baby? Tell me what you need."

"I don't—I don't know—"

"Then let me figure it out."

His hand slides down my stomach, fingers hooking into my underwear, and I lift my hips to help him slide them off. Then I'm naked. Completely bare in front of a man I met yesterday, and I should feel self-conscious, should feel something other than desperate need.

But I don't.

I just want more.

His fingers find me. Slide through wetness. He freezes.

"Ah, Aurora. You're soaked."

"Your fault," I gasp.

"Good." He circles my clit, just once, and pleasure explodes through me. "I want you dripping for me. Want you so wet you can't think straight."

"I already can't think at all."

"Then I'm doing this right."

He slides one finger inside me, and I arch off the bed. It's too much and not enough, pleasure and pressure, and a fullness I've never felt before. He watches my face as he works me, adding a second finger, pumping slowly while his thumb finds my clit.

"That's it," he murmurs. "Take it. Let me feel you."

I'm shaking. Moaning. Making sounds I didn't know I could make. His fingers are magic, finding spots inside me I didn't know existed, and when he curls them just right, I see stars.

"Axel—"

"I know, baby. I can feel you getting close." He leans down and bites my lower lip. "Come for me. Let me see what you look like when you fall apart."

"I—oh—I've never—"

He stills. "Never what?"

I can't say it. Can't admit that twenty-three guys tried and failed, that I've never had an orgasm with another person, that I'm a virgin in every way that matters.

But he sees it in my face.

"Aurora." His voice changes, gets softer, careful. "Have you ever—"

"No." The admission burns. "I've tried, I just... I couldn't."

For a second, I think he'll pull away. Think he'll decide I'm too complicated, too inexperienced, too much work.

Instead, his eyes go molten.

"Then I'm going to make your first time something you'll never forget."

His fingers start moving again, slower this time, more deliberate. His mouth finds my breast, and he sucks while his hand works between my legs, and the combination is devastating.

Pleasure builds. Coils tight in my stomach, my thighs, spreading through my whole body like fire. I'm panting, writhing, grabbing at him, at the sheets, at anything I can hang on to.

"That's it," he encourages. "Stop thinking. Just feel."