SEX WITH THE VIRGIN MAID 18+

Hera touched his cheeks with her hands. A small smile playing on her lips. “I want you too Bryce. I want to make love with you too.” She answered, leaving him speechless and at a loss for words.

As she stared back at those eyes that was fixed on her face, she couldn’t muster a single regret or mortification about her decision. Bryce knew that she was vulnerable at that point and had all the time in the world to take advantage of her but still, he didn’t. Normally, when a woman goes out of her way to say such words to him, it makes it easier for him to jump at the opportunity and do whatever he wanted without a single care in the world but he didn’t. Instead, he was waiting.

That was the only thing it took for his eyes to become crystal clear. Max was right all along. He had always loved this woman and wanted to be more than friends with her. This was the very first time he wanted something more than what he usually had. He knew that for a fact because he had met different women all his life. He had slept with a lot of them too but nothing would compare to this very moment.

Bryce stood up from the couch and graciously lifted her into his arms as though she weighed nothing. “Hey, put me down, what are you doing? I’m going to fall Bryce.” Hera gasped out, startled at his sudden move.

He would’ve laughed it off if he wasn’t so sexually tensed. Did she think that he would drop her? It sounded as hilarious as he had heard it. “Relax Hera, you weigh no more than the hairs on my head.”

She wanted to protest to that statement but he stopped whatever she wanted to say when he kissed her. He delved in, mating with her tongue. She forgot everything she wanted to say and then, her back touched the bed. It took her a few minutes to realize that she wasn’t on her side of the bedroom, this was his side. His scent was everywhere so it was quite hard to miss.

Bryce kissed her full on the lips. His mouth hardened, became hot and determined, compelling her to respond to him, urging her on. Tongues of fire raced along her skin. Every nerve ending came alive. Her blood boiled with need that she couldn’t understand. Her body craved, ached, until her arms crept around his neck and her body came in close contact with his.

Hera could feel the coolness of the sheets against her back as he pressed her into the mattress. He unbuttoned her Pajamas top, swept it away without a care in the world and ot dropped carelessly on the floor.

She couldn’t resist the urge, her hands came up immediately and covered her breasts as much as she could. Her eyes casted down, shy and embarrassed.

He palmed her cheeks with both hands and slowly raised it for her eyes to meet his compelling ones. “Hey, you don’t have to be embarrassed, Hera. Not with me, Cara.” He gently pried her hands away from her body.

His breath hitched, a husky and deep gutteral sound escaped his throat. He has never seen anything so beautiful. She was beautiful. “You are beautiful Hera.” He murmured out loud for her to hear.

Her full breasts were rounded and high, her rosy nipples pointed straight at him, begging for his mouth and attention. He was already as hard as a granite, but he took extra care not to allow that part of him touch her body and frighten her. She was still so very new at this and he didn’t want to scare her further away from him.

Joining their faces together, his mouth found hers again while his hands trailed over her skin from her shoulders, over the swell of her breasts. He cupped it, it was more than a handful. Exquisite.

Her breasts arched with need, her body throbbed. His touch was gentle, completely at odds with the terrible hunger burning in his eyes down to the pit of his stomach. He bent his head slowly to her breast, his breath reached her skin first. Warm. Most. Soft. His lips were soft.

Hera jumped slightly under his seeking mouth, all at once so sensitive. Even the brush of his hair was erotic against her skin.

Go slow. Go slow. Don’t frighten her. Don’t scare her away. The words bit like litany in his head. A poem that he was suddenly being compelled to memorize as though his life depended on it. He was determined to go slow, stay in control, hold his terrible hunger for Hera under some sort of rein. The last thing he wanted to do was snap this little thread of restraint and frighten her.

There would be plenty of times for wild cravings later. Right now, right here, it’s not about him. It’s all about this little woman straddled underneath him.

Bryce had never felt the way he was feeling now for any woman he took to bed. It had always been about sex. Rough, hard and banging kind of sex. He had never cared about a woman’s pleasure or need before but surprising tonight, he wanted to pleasure Hera. He didn’t want to fuck her like it has always been for him. He wanted to make love to her.

He closed his mouth over one and exerted an immediate, gentle suction. Her body jerked as if struck with an electric jolt and he increased the pull of his mouth until she arched toward him, panting out her need.

“Bryce” His name was a long, drawn-out moan of desire.

No music had ever sounded sweeter or lovelier to his ears. He adored her instant response to his slightest touch. She was the most responsive lover he’d ever known. Other women might have been more knowledgeable about the practiced technique that stirred a man’s senses, but none of them had made him tremble with need. Only Hera could do that.

He played with her creamy, soft flesh. Kneading her with fingers that shook, tasting her with his mouth and nipping at her with careful provocation. Soon, not only her back was arched toward him in a silent demand for more but her pelvis was tilting up toward him with the same fierce abandon.

“Bryce!” Hera cried out again. Her body on fire.

He suckled her lush breasts, his mouth teasing, his teeth scrapping gently while he kneaded the other breast with his hand. She whimpered, the sound choking on her throat, arousing him so much that he had to remind himself to be gentle and not tear her apart like he wanted to.

He kept on until she was burning in a feverish pitch, her breath coming out in short desperate gasps. Hera didn’t understand what she was feeling and what was going on with her body.

What was he doing to her? She craved something, she needed somw kind of release but she didn’t know how to go about it. His hands worked on her pajamas and before she knew it, he was pulling ot down and discarding it on the floor with his shirt but he kept his trousers on.

Instinctively, she locked her knees tightly together. He bent down and took her lips in a hard kiss, their mouth fused together, his lips devouring her. With tentative hands, she explored him, her hands mapping out his back, tracing his broad shoulders and the hard muscles of his body.

Without breaking the kiss, he snaked his hand between her legs which she opened a little bit wider for him, giving him access to the center of her womanhood. He dipped his hands and touched her slightly.

She moaned into his mouth. Her body moving on its own accord, pushing against his fingers.

He took the invitation, sliding his hand up the inside of her thigh and then cupping her mound in another moment of possession, so primitive he could barely admit it to himself. She cried out, shivering in his arms. He found the center of her womanhood and caressed it for a moment, then he pushed a finger into her tight channel.

She jumped and tore her lips away from his, her wide eyes filled with unanswered questions and uncertainty. It became crystal clear to him then. Not only has she never had sex before, she had also never been touched so intimately.

Untouched. A pure virgin.

At the back of his mind, he guessed that he had always known. Max had even mentioned something about it before but it’s still shocking to discover firsthand that Hera was still a virgin. At this age.

No man had touched her. He’ll be the first man to be inside her, the first to watch her come apart in pleasure, the man that would teach her about the intimacy between a man and woman. Feelings he could never explain spread through him.Upstodatee from Novel(D)ra/m/a.O(r)g

Protective. Possessive. And that particular one that had been there for sometime now. The one that makes him afraid to loose her.

She’s mine! This woman right here is mine. A voice laced with pride, in his head roared.