Carter drew away, and I heard the telltale sound of a condom wrapper. It was really happening. I was going to have sex with one of the richest men in the country. The mattress shifted as he moved behind me, and then his hands curled around my hips, and he tilted my ass up.

“You should see yourself,” he said. “All pink and slick, ready for me.”

I was past embarrassment. I moved my knees apart, opening myself for him, eager to feel his cock sliding into me. I hoped he wouldn’t make me wait any longer.

He drew the blunt head of his cock along my slit, using it to rub at my clit until I squirmed against him. He dipped into my entrance, just a bare millimeter inside, and then out again, and I gasped aloud from wanting him.

“Not yet,” he said. “What is it that you want, Regan?”

“You,” I said, and angled my hips up hopefully.

“Tell me what you want,” he said. His hands flexed on my hips, fingers digging into bone.

He was going to make me say it. I closed my eyes, even though he couldn’t see them, as though my eyelids would give me some protection from the humiliation of what I was about to say. “I want... I want your cock,” I choked out. “I want you to—I want your cock in my pussy.”

I shook, speaking, and he bent down and pressed his lips to the back of my neck. “You sound like you think you can tell me what to do,” he said. His lips brushed against my skin.

“No,” I said, babbling now, “I don’t, that’s not what I think, you just.” I forced myself to stop, and swallowed. “Please. I want you to. Please.”

“Say my name,” he said.

“Carter,” I said, “please. Please fuck me.”

He laughed softly, and straightened again, and thrust his cock fully inside me in one long, smooth thrust.

I cried out. It felt huge, and for a moment, I was convinced I was being split in two. The stretch was painful. I’d been prepared for pain, intellectually, but actually feeling it in such an intimate part of my body was distressing in a way that I hadn’t considered. I gripped the headboard tight and breathed shallowly through my mouth, hoping it would pass.

After several long moments, the pain eased. In its place, pleasure began building again, coiling in the pit of my belly. Blind, there was nothing for me to focus on but the feelings coursing through my body. I had to surrender myself to sensation.

Behind me, Carter said, “You’re tight. Been a while?”

I stifled inappropriate laughter. If only he knew how long it had been. “You could say that.”

He didn’t reply. He withdrew slightly, just a few agonizing millimeters, and then moved his hips against me again, pushing into my waiting body. I felt the stretch, and the heat, the solid length of him deep within me, and the way his fingers clenched on my hips, like he couldn’t help himself.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” I asked, trying to sound light and teasing, and instead sounding plaintive. I didn’t want him to keep teasing. I wanted him to pin me to the mattress and have his way with me, as they said in old movies. Blindfolded, clutching the headboard, I felt strung out and jittery, no longer myself or in control of my reactions. If he fucked me, I thought, the world would make sense again.

“I think I’ve kept you waiting long enough,” he said. “You’re hungry for my cock, aren’t you? I want you to tell me how much you want it.”

I blushed again. It amazed me that I was still capable of being embarrassed at this point. “I want it,” I said.

He drew out and thrust in again, slowly, teasing. “How much?”

“A lot,” I said, “okay, Carter, please, I can’t wait anymore, I need you—”

It worked. Whatever it was I said, he finally gave me what I wanted. With no warning, he pulled out and slammed into me, his hips crushing against my ass. I cried out, startled, and held tight to the headboard as he established a punishing rhythm. He pounded into me, pausing each time he bottomed out to grind his hips against me. I was helpless, caught between his cock and the headboard, able to do nothing but hold on and wail.

I always thought that sex would be awkward, the first time, and painful; something to get through, like a visit to the doctor’s office. Not this, with Carter behind me and building waves of ecstasy flowing through my body. I hadn’t imagined anything like this.

Carter moved one hand from my hip and slid it between my legs, rubbing at my clit in time with his thrusts. As swollen and sore as I was, after hours of arousal and two orgasms, I felt myself begin to build toward the peak again. I shifted my hips from side to side, both trying to get away from him and trying to get his fingers to move exactly how I wanted them to. I was overcome. I couldn’t speak, or see, or do anything but let Carter force my body to respond, like he’d been doing this for years and knew every way to touch me, every way to make me lose my mind.

It should have taken me a long time to get there. It was usually one and done for me when I touched myself, and a dim part of me was surprised at how I responded to Carter’s touch. My body wasn’t surprised at all, though. It knew that it belonged to Carter. As his fingers moved faster, it became harder and harder for me to maintain a coherent train of thought, and soon I abandoned the effort altogether and let myself become a mindless, yearning thing, bracing myself against the headboard and pushing back into Carter’s every thrust.

“You’re there, aren’t you?” he said, and I was, I was: he knew me better than I knew myself. I was there, and I wanted him to send me over the edge, but I couldn’t, not without his permission, without his words telling me that it was okay.

I whined, high in my throat, the only communication I was capable of at that point. If I could have spoken, I would have babbled praise and pleas, begging him, asking me to finally, finally let me come on his hard cock.

He rolled his fingers over my clit again, expertly, and said, “Come for me now, Regan.”

I had to obey him. I had no other choice.

It seemed to last for an eon. Whole universes were created and destroyed while I shuddered and clenched around his cock. I squeezed my eyes shut so hard that I saw bright geometric patterns behind my closed eyelids. My pussy throbbed and pulsed, alternately pulling Carter deeper and pushing him out. I had never felt anything like it.

“That’s right,” Carter said, from some distant planet, his fingers still moving on my clit. “You’re being so good for me.”