Page 38 of London Dynasty

“Get on it,” he demanded. I heard the foil rip and I craned my neck curious to watch him roll it on. My eyes widened when I saw the size of his cock. It jutted out from a thatch of dark, neatly trimmed hair. I gulped, realizing that no amount of preparation would be enough to make it easy for that to slide inside me.

Spencer followed my gaze and offered a smile. “It might hurt a little.”

“A little?” I croaked. His dick had to be seven inches long. There was no way it would fit.

“At first, and then”—he climbed on top of me—“you’ll want every inch of it.” He positioned himself between my legs, stroking its broad crown along my warm, wet seam. “It’s not too late to…”

“I want you,” I stopped him with a breathless whisper.

“Put your arms around my shoulders,” he directed me as he lowered himself against my body. His hand was pinned between us, guiding him toward my virginity. Fire ignited as he pushed the tip of his cock inside me.

I hung on to him, burying my face against his shoulder as my body burned.

“The next bit is the worst,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “Ready?”

I nodded without lifting my head. I felt safe tucked against him.

Spencer pushed farther in. This time more forcefully, and I felt a slight pop as my body gave way to his invasion. He slid in until I was sure no more of him could fit and then stilled, giving my body time to acclimate to this intrusion. I felt full of him. My skin stretched taut by his length and girth until I felt like I might snap. I took another deep breath and exhaled. It helped a little, but not as much as last time.

“God, you’re tight,” he said, sounding as strained as I felt. He withdrew slightly before thrusting slowly back inside. With each movement he seemed to bore deeper.

A curious thing had happened in the process. The pain lingered along with a smoldering ring of fire, but with each deliberate thrust, the pain mingled with the sensitivity lingering in my nerves. Spencer must have known that the more I orgasmed, the more likely he would be able to stoke my arousal back to life. I gave myself to him, trusting him entirely, as he took me to someplace I never travelled.

Deeper.

Farther.

The journey carried me up a summit. When at last his hand knitted through mine and his body stiffened with impending release, we leapt together. It wasn’t the explosion of pleasure he’d given me earlier. It was a freshly lit fire that warmed me. I lingered in it as we collapsed together.

Neither of us spoke for a few minutes. We just laid there, our hands clasped together as we stared at the ceiling.

Spencer was the one to finally break the silence.

“Was it terrible?” he asked gently.

“It was wonderful.” I’d taken the first step into his world, and I knew, without a doubt, there was no turning back now.

Chapter Twenty

The sun woke me the following day. Spencer was asleep. He’d kicked one leg free from the sheets, which seemed to be caught on something. I tilted my head, blinking sleepy eyes, and then I realized what the unusual tent pole was. I swallowed back a giggle at discovering yet another new thing about sex.

Slithering down the bed, I climbed carefully between his legs, doing my best not to wake him.

Although my sexual experiences were limited, I’d given more than a few blow jobs in my life. No one had bothered to return the favor. Spencer had shown me last night what I’d been missing. I suspected there would be no selfishness like that on his part. He’d gone down on me again after our lovemaking as though to soothe any pain he’d caused.

I owed him—big time.

I gathered my hair loosely and pushed it behind one shoulder before lowering my mouth to take him into my mouth. He was already rock hard, which meant I didn’t need to linger, but I found myself wanting to anyway. I ran my tongue along his length to his balls and back up. I licked the tip, catching a creamy bead of pre-ejaculate in the process. Spencer groaned in his sleep and shifted, giving me a better angle.

I seized the opportunity and lowered my mouth over him. Remembering his advice yesterday, I relaxed, allowing him to slide deeper into my throat before I closed my lips and sucked lightly.

“Am I dreaming?” he asked groggily. He propped an eye open and found me looking up at him, his cock down my throat and my lips planted at its root. “Fuck. How are you doing that?”

I lifted my mouth slowly and brought it back down until I’d swallowed him again entirely, keeping a steady pressure with my tongue the whole time.

“Don’t stop,” he grunted as I continued to bob up and down over him. His hand fumbled for my hair, got a handful, and urged me faster. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

He erupted in my throat, his cock still buried so deeply inside it that I felt only a hint of the hot lashing of his climax. When he finally stopped twitching and grew soft, I released him and crawled back up next to him.