Chapter 11: Beautiful Scar: Chapter 11

I get changed at least ten times.

First, I try something normal. Just a shirt and a pair of jeans. But it seems too casual, so I put on a skirt. But the skirt’s too long, down below my knees, and makes me look frumpy. I change the top to something slightly more revealing, but that only makes me feel uncomfortable.

I try my cutest underwear, except that feels desperate.

What the hell’s a girl supposed to wear when she loses her virginity?

Probably nothing. That’s sort of the point.

Eventually, I settle on a pair of slim-fitting sweats, a long-sleeve thermal shirt, no bra, and lacy black undies.

This is a business arrangement, right?

No reason to put on airs. Just some fuck me panties and easily removed comfies.

I do my hair and makeup anyway. It makes me feel stronger and more in control when my scar’s hidden away. He’s going to notice that I put in some effort, but I can’t let his opinion change anything.

He’s the bleak nihilist, but not me.

I still believe in things. Like my first time should be special.

Or at least as special as this little handshake deal can be.

I’m a nervous wreck. I’ve barely eaten all day. I keep thinking about Tigran last night sitting on that couch talking about how the world’s ugly and brutal. He does that evil monster routine, but whenever it’s just him and me, there are flashes of something more.

The way he held my hand on the plane.

How he reacted instantly to danger by covering my body with his own.

He’s protective and kind, and it’s like he tries hard to suppress that part of him.

When it’s time, I stand in the hallway and stare at the door.

I don’t have to open it. Maybe I can put this off for another night. We could get to know each other and connect on a deeper level before he comes in here and viciously fucks me.

Because that’s what it’ll be like, right?

I’m terrified. Honestly, no matter how much I’ve read about sex and watched filthy videos online, none of it prepared me for this.

Actually sleeping with a man like Tigran.

It’s going to hurt, and I don’t think he’s going to have much sympathy.

My stomach’s a wreck. I feel the edge of a panic attack. I’m barely holding on and very close to bailing on this whole stinking plan.

Except if I don’t do it, then it’ll never happen.

I know myself. If I don’t open that door, if I give myself an excuse to back out, I’ll never find the courage.

Crap. Crap, crap, crap. I hate this so much. I almost wish he’d just come in here and take me.

I turn the handle and yank it open before I can convince myself to run away.

Nothing happens. I don’t know what I was expecting. I mean, it’s only a door, right?

I back away and leave it open a crack.

There are footsteps on his side. They pause, then get louder as someone approaches.

My heart’s racing so hard I might pass out. Sweat rolls down my spine. God, I’m so scared, it’s pathetic.

It’s just sex, right?

The door rolls open, and Tigran’s there. He fills the doorway with his big frame. A black t-shirt clings to his muscular body. He’s in a pair of joggers and socks, his hair brushed back and slightly damp like he’s fresh from a shower.

My mouth opens, and I lick my lips.

He’s beautiful. God, he’s so handsome, it’s obscene. That mouth, that jaw. Those arms. Those hands. I want to feel him crushing up against me again like he did downstairs in the hallway. Pin my hands above my head. Spank me until I scream.

“You look good,” he says softly, gently, and I finally notice the way he’s staring at me.

Like he wants me. Pure, thick lust. The look of a man who knows what he needs.

I’ve never been looked at like that before, and it feels good.

Arousal floods my core.

I open my mouth to respond⁠—

But he walks forward, roughly pulls me against him, and buries his mouth on mine.

I’m taken off guard. I’m so surprised that all I can do is return the kiss and let myself sink into him.

Muscular chest. Beating heart. Powerful arms.

And a mouth that tastes like soap, honey, and whiskey.

His tongue invades my mouth. Our teeth touch briefly. His lips open as I whimper into him, mindless and breathless with how good this kiss feels. I’ve never been this turned on in my entire life. I’m trembling with nerves, but also with how badly I want him to just keep going.

We hold that kiss. I’m pressed into him, squirming slightly in his arms. I wriggle my hips as my nipples brush against his chest. He’s stooped to kiss me, our height difference pretty damn noticeable right now.

“This way,” he whispers and leads me into the bedroom.

I keep waiting for him to strip me. I figure he wants to get this over with. Fuck me rough and fast, come inside me, and get the hell out of here, right? That’s all this is.

Instead, he sits on the edge of the bed and drags me into his lap.

I let out a little moan as I straddle him. We’re still clothed, but this is the closest to sex I’ve ever been, and we’re only just starting. His fingers brush through my hair as he tugs me toward him, kissing me lightly at first, before smothering me with his tongue again.

I ache into that kiss. My hips grind into his. I feel him getting hard between my legs, and holy shit. He’s long and thick. I grind down, pulse pounding between my legs.

“You look so fucking good,” he whispers, pulling back to look at me.

Embarrassment and arousal war in my chest. “I’m not wearing anything special.”

“You always look this way to me. Do you have any idea how restrained I’ve been?”

“I’m so proud of you.”

“I bet you are.” He presses a thumb in my mouth again. It’s the same one I bit last time, and I’m tempted to do it again. “Suck, baby.”

I decide to be a good girl tonight, and I obey. I run my tongue around and around, and when his thumb is nice and wet, he pulls it out, slips his hand up my top, and swirls my spit around my stiff nipple. He kisses me as he does it, and, God, it feels good.

When he pulls back, I let out a little moan. I want more. I need him closer. He pulls off his shirt, showing off whorls of black tattoos and several knotted scars. A knife through the roof of a house. A burning tree. He pulls my shirt off next before leaning forward to kiss my neck.

It feels incredible. My core is pulsing with arousal. His mouth moves down to my breasts, and he licks my stiff, pink nipples. I run my hands through his thick hair, luxuriating in how nice it feels.

His attention is entirely mine, and that’s intoxicating.

“The second I saw you on the floor of the chapel, I knew I had to taste you,” he says, flicking a tongue over one breast.

“You wanted me when I was unconscious?”

“There was something about you. Small and beautiful. I dragged you into my lap, and all I could think about was making sure you were okay before ravishing you.”

I pull him tighter to my chest. “And you act like you’re a monster.”

He laughs lightly and looks up. “As vicious as they come, my doll.” Then he kisses me again, turns me around, and pins me down on the bed.

I wriggle my hips as he pulls off my sweats. My cheeks are burning, and I want him so badly it’s painful. He kisses down my neck, licks my breasts again, and keeps going. Kissing, kissing, taking it so freaking slow it’s agonizing until he tugs off my panties.

And with that, I’m naked.

I don’t even realize he’s the first man to ever see my exposed body until his mouth buries itself in my pussy.

“Holy shit,” I gasp in shock as pleasure rocks into my hips.

His tongue licks me up and down, spreading my lips. He sucks on my clit and devours me.

Pleasure unlike anything I’ve experienced before blasts into my skull.

“There you are, baby,” he purrs as he slides a finger inside me. “You know, for such a prim little thing, your pussy tastes like sin.”

“Shit,” I groan, grabbing onto his hair. “That feels so fucking good.”

“You like that?” He sounds amused and licks me again, lapping at my clit. “And here I am, taking it nice and slow.”

“This is slow? You’ve got a finger, you know—” I trail off, unable to say it out loud.

“I’ve got a finger buried deep inside your tight little cunt while my tongue and lips suck and lick your swollen clit. Is that what you meant?”

“Shit,” I whisper, cheeks bright red. But yeah, that was basically it.

He destroys me with his tongue. I’ve never experienced so much intense pleasure before in my life. Touching myself isn’t anywhere near what he can do with those fingers and that mouth. He’s a filthy monster, I’ll give him that, and he’s really, really good at what he does.

Pressure builds. I don’t know how much more I can take. I grin into his mouth, and he grins like he’s loving it. “You’re such a greedy girl,” he purrs, sliding another finger inside. I whinny and whine. “Look at you, such a little slut for me when you’re stripped down. Your pussy’s dripping honey on my tongue, and you’re moaning like you can’t control yourself. Tell me you like this, my little wife.”

“I love it,” I admit, because he’s completely right. My stiff embarrassment is slowly fading away, and I feel something else taking over.

Something carnal and dark. A hungry, deep need, one that has been throbbing inside me for years but one that I’ve always denied.

He attacks my pussy with his mouth and fingers. I grind into him, breasts shaking with every gasp. The pressure is so intense I feel it in my skull like my brain’s about to explode. I’m whispering his name, panting it over and over, and he’s right.

I’m a filthy fucking slut, and God, I love it.

I come on his mouth. The release is so intense my vision blurs, and I see stars. He keeps right on going, driving me wild, making the orgasm stretch and intensify until I can barely handle it anymore.

I collapse back, my body a puddle of aching lust.

“That’s a good girl,” he says as he comes up and kisses me.

I taste myself on him. It’s so fucking filthy. I drive myself into that kiss, burning for him.

If this is what it means to be his good girl, then that’s all I want in the world.

“More,” I moan, pulling his hair. “Give me more.”

“I knew you had this in you,” he says as he pulls back. I stare at him and get on all fours, waiting eagerly as he takes off his pants.

His cock is hard. So hard it throbs. His head is thick and engorged, and his shaft is massive and vein-studded. It looks like every dirty dream I’ve ever had, and I want it.

No, I need it in my mouth.

I lean forward eagerly, my mouth open. He growls as I grab him and guide his tip between my lips. I have no clue what I’m doing, but I’m going on pure instinct now. I suck him, sloppy and dumb, but moaning as I go. When I pull back, he’s looking at me with so much lust it’s overwhelming.

“On your back,” he says, “and spread your legs.”

My chest is pounding as I obey. “Like this?” I chew my lip, terrified and turned on. He kneels in front of me, then leans over, the head of his cock brushing against my soaking wet pussy.

“That’s my girl,” he says and kisses me.

I eagerly push myself into that kiss. I feel him teasing my pussy with his massive cock, and I’m pretty sure he’s going to destroy me.

But at this point, I don’t care.

“Tell me you want this,” he says, backing off. His massive arms are corded with muscle, and his face is hard and eager.

“Fuck me,” I beg and dig my fingers into his back. He’s shockingly well-built. It’s like every inch of him is hard as rock.

He presses himself against me, and slowly, he sinks inside.

“Oh, shit,” I say, back arching. It burns and hurts as he slowly fills me.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispers in my ear. “It’s okay, baby, nice and slow. You’re doing good.”

He fills me. Slowly, slowly, agonizing and aching, he feels me. I writhe under him, and he keeps whispering encouragements. Filthy, incredible encouragements. My brain’s a filthy puddle, and my body’s on the edge of shattering, and then he’s pulling back and plunging in again, going nice and slow.

I grind my hips.

It still hurts, but the more we move together, the more I feel something else.

Bliss. Pleasure. Want.

All swirling in my brain.

“That’s right,” he says, nipping at my lips and neck. “Fuck, you feel so good. You’re nice and wet and tight, baby, and you’re so eager. Even though you’re stretched wide, you’re doing so good.”

“I want more,” I beg, not even sure what I’m saying at this point. I’ve never felt so filthy and exposed in all my life. I’ve actively tried to avoid putting myself in compromising positions like this one, all in the vain and stupid belief that I could somehow keep hold of a pureness and a lightness.

But now I get it. Now I understand.

It’s so much better to get fucked.

He grinds his hips faster. Slow, deep thrusts. I move with him, arching and pushing down, my hands above my head. He licks my nipples, palms a breast, shoves a finger in my mouth with the other. “My little wife likes to take my dick, doesn’t she? I want you to tell me that your virgin pussy is all fucking mine now.”

“Tigran,” I moan because I don’t think I can actually say those words.

“Say it, baby,” he growls in my ear, one fist cupping my chin. I have to stare into his eyes as he fucks me faster. Pleasure and pain build and build in my core, and I’m dancing on a thin sheet of glass. “Tell me your virgin pussy is mine.”

“I’m yours,” I whimper, but that’s not good enough. He thrusts hard once, twice, his jaw working.

“I’m starting to lose control, baby,” he growls, voice trembling.

And it’s the hottest freaking thing I’ve ever heard in my life.

“My virgin pussy is yours,” I gasp as he fucks me, all gentleness gone. It’s raw and vicious, rough and animalistic where before he’s been soft and patient with me.

Now he’s unleashed, and it’s so good I finally break.

“That’s right, baby,” he moans in my ear. “Come for me. Come on your husband’s dick. I want to hear you say you’re my good girl.”

“I’m your good girl,” I gasp, saying it over and over as I break all over his massive cock. I crumble into a million little pieces, covered in sweat, drooling slightly, a messy, glorious wreck.

He fills me with a low grunt. It’s warm and wet between my legs as he thrusts again, again, again, slowing down. My orgasm is still rolling around in my brain as I blink myself back into the room.

Tigran is still buried between my legs, and I’m a wreck.

He’s going to leave now. That’s everything he wanted, right? I gave myself to him, slept with him for the first time, and now he’s going to leave.

It’s okay. It’s okay. It doesn’t matter.

I feel tears brimming.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, shifting until he’s behind me and wrapping his arms around my body.

I bite my lip to stop myself from crying. Why is he still here? This isn’t part of the deal.

But slowly, I relax into his arms.

He’s warm and big. Once my emotions level out and the tears pass, I find he’s really comfortable. I like the slow, measured breathing mixed with the constant beat of his heart.

“You did so good,” he says, brushing my hair back. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I say, and realize I mean it. “You don’t have to—I mean, if you don’t want to⁠—”

He pulls my hair aside and kisses my shoulder. “I don’t have to what?”

“Stick around. If you don’t want to.” Shame floods me. All of that was wrong. I don’t even know this guy, and I just let him touch me in ways I’ve never even imagined before. His mouth, his tongue, his fingers. I said things⁠—

“You’re my wife,” he says, pulling me tighter. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I let out a little gasp as the last remaining tension slowly fades away.

“Everything’s okay.” He strokes my side gently. Those rough hands. How much pain have they caused? Now they’re like silk on my skin.

He’s right. Everything’s okay. It’ll be totally okay. Tigran’s arms stay wrapped around my body, and I surrender to this moment, snuggling tighter against him, surrendering to the steady beat of his heart.