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Four

Arianna gasped at the coldness of the sheets as he lowered her to the middle of the bed.

She closed her eyes.

In the room, there was nowhere to hide. The windows were open and moonlight bathed every surface that was exposed to it. She didn’t want to see this, everything he would do to her, so she closed her eyes.

But as soon as she thought about what could transpire here, she was surprised she didn't feel scared anymore. Her heart was still thumping so fast, but the panic was because she still didn't know exactly what was going to happen next.

And this started as soon as she recognized him.

For some reason, she knew he would not intentionally hurt her. That after he was done with her, she could still go home with all the pieces intact. Except for her hymen.

He wouldn’t hurt her intentionally. The Quirozes were known to be strict but fair. Don Sylverio could get grumpy, but he was mostly jovial and very approachable. He was helpful and humane. Surely he couldn't have produced a monster?

Señorito Enrique, though, had other plans.

She felt the movement in the bed as he lay beside her. "Look at me," he said, his voice almost a whisper but for the baritone that made it seem to vibrate on her skin.

She sighed, dismayed. She had to open her eyes to look at him and when she obeyed, his face was very close to hers and she tried not to flinch. His eyes... she sighed without realizing what she was doing. He had eyes that had such beauty it was hard for her to describe with mere words. Mesmerizing. Long lashes and hooded gaze. They look very sad, and she might be mistaken. It could only be because he was drunk. But she couldn't stop herself from staring back at him.

"Kiss me," she heard him demand again. But his voice was soft, not angry like he was downstairs a moment ago. She felt his hand on her cheek, caressing her, cupping her jaw as he gently angled her face for the kiss. She complied. Something about his voice—a catch at it—and the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he gulped after that, spoke to her. Was he as nervous? But why? And at the thought of kissing him… heat started to gather in her belly. Her skin felt like it was on fire.

What was happening to her? Why was her body acting like this for the first time in her entire life? She knew him, admired him from a distance, but he was still a strang—

All thoughts stopped once their lips met again. This kiss felt different, not as harsh as earlier, though there still was a feeling behind it. Like he needed this kiss. He needed her to give it to him. Her body conformed to his as his arm went around her to pull her to him. She almost moaned, and she didn't know why when she felt his warm naked skin against her naked skin. He felt hot like he had a fever. Was it her imagination or did his skin hum? Or she might just be too sensitive. She didn’t know anything as this was her first time with a man, but he felt electric. Like he was more than just alive.

He felt...

Good.

No, not just good.

It was something familiar and she missed that she wanted to get closer, and closer caused a zing of pleasure to run up her spine. It was what made her limbs move of their own volition to wrap around his thigh and rub his skin. The shock at her body's response froze her mind for a moment, but she wasn't given any chance to think anyway because his mouth deepened the kiss after detecting her strain, not wanting to let go.

Hotter.

His lips pushed her mouth to open and when it did, his tongue slipped in, playfully tracing the line of her teeth, exciting her tongue for swordplay. She kissed him back, following his pace, allowing it to lead her. Somehow, the smell of liquor in his breath didn’t seem offensive anymore. It and the subtle scent of his aftershave made him seem more manly and she was heady but in a good way. His hands caressed an exposed breast, and she realized there was no revulsion. There wasn't even an inkling of dislike at what he was doing to her. There was no unfamiliarity to the feeling of his hand on this private part of her body, given the fact this was the first time anyone but herself touched it.

In fact, her hand reached to hold his wrist, not to stop him, but because the sensation of her breast being stroked the way he did it was so overwhelming she needed support.

That was when his body moved to cover her body, pushing her thighs to open for him. She felt his meat, almost hard as a rock, as it rubbed itself against the most intimate part of her.

And she gasped, having to let go of his lips as the sensation generated by this new experience shocked her.

He did it again.

A moan escaped from her. She closed her eyes as she threw her head back at the pillows on the third stroke.

He continued slow, rhythmic strokes as his arms held her. Her hands clasped in his arms, and she felt his muscles bulged under her palms as his lower torso continued to grind against her. Her hips involuntarily started to move against him. Much like the kiss, she followed his lead. And felt frustration at the clothing of her panties between them. She wanted…

Did she really? She was ashamed at the desire to feel him flesh-to-flesh, but at the same time, she shivered in anticipation of it. She wanted to feel him skin-to-skin, pussy to cock.

My goodness.

She’d turned into a monster.

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