C H A P T E R 1 - Sam.

I found myself turning around, both convinced and irritated by the fact that I hadn't gotten rid of him as I had thought that I had. He seemed to think that he was entitled to bother me. Was that what all attractive men did? They believed that they had a right to engage you until you gave in to them? I was no fool. I had been around the block once or twice, and I knew that there weren't many reasons why a girl was stopped and approached in a club like this one. The couples who were already fucking around us, was already proof enough of that.

There had been two people outside, the girl pressed up against the wall, and I had seen another at the bar, with the girl spread out on the table with the mans face between her legs. A chill went through my body as I thought of it, feeling my own arousal start to surface. I had considered myself to be quite strong-willed, but when it came to sex, I was just as weak as the rest of my kind was. It was normal for us. It was a need.

"Guys like me? What are you trying to imply with that?"

He took a step closer to me when he questioned me. It seemed like he was trying to close the distance between us, and I knew that I wasn't wrong. I could smell his own arousal, could see it in the way that he was looking at me. I got the impression that he had come here to fuck someone, and now, I was the one who he wanted to fuck. I could feel my body instinctively leaning towards him, and I knew that I needed to get a grip on myself. I had come here to find my mother. Was I going to be able to do that if I had this guy fucking me against the wall, or on a table?

"I'm implying that your intentions do not align with mine. I appreciate your efforts, but I would appreciate it more if you left me alone. I have things to do."

"I wouldn't mind being done by you."

It was that response that confirmed everything that I needed to know. I wasn't going to get anywhere if I continued trying to talk to him. I was digging a deeper hole for myself by indulging this. I was already feeling vulnerable. I would only feel worse the longer that I stayed here. The effect that the scent of sex had on me, had never been a good one. On the contrary, it had the same effect on everyone. When you smell sex, you want it. And our self-control is not something that often gets tested.

I walked away from him, thinking that it would somehow be enough to get me away from him, and my desire to jump his bones. But just as he didn't leave me alone, the tingling between my legs did not lessen either. I tried to remind myself of the fact that I needed to find my mother. I had scanned the crowd for her quite a few times, since I had been convinced that this was where she would be. After all, it was the one place where she would easily be able to get enough alcohol to sedate her. I hoped that if I ignored him long enough, he would go away. Even as I thought of this, I could not help but know that it wasn't going to happen. He was too determined, too self-assured. He was the kind of guy who didn't back down when there was something that he wanted. And in this case, it was me.

As I made my way through the crowd, I could not help but wonder whether or not sleeping with him would make me feel better. After all, my senses were already overwhelmed, practically to the point where I couldn't use them. Maybe, giving my body what it wanted would allow me to find my mother faster, would give me more... motivation to do so. I did what any logical person in my situation would do, and I turned around to face him - but it seemed to me like he hadn't been expecting that to happen, because his body collided with mine, the force of it practically knocking me to the ground.

The only reason why I didn't find myself sprawled on the floor, was because his arms had snaked around my waist, keeping me pressed up against his body. I was wearing a tank top - with no bra. And I had no doubt in my mind that my nipples would be visible through my shirt when I moved away from him. Although, the way that he was holding me, gave me reason to believe that he wouldn't be letting go of me any time soon. The bulge that was pressing against my stomach, was telling me the exact same thing.

I couldn't seem to think straight. I knew that I needed to find my mother, but I also knew that this was an attractive man, and my body didn't want to let a good thing slip away. But I didn't want to be the one begging him to fuck me. I wanted him to be the one clinging to me, as he was now, begging me to let him inside me. Was that genuinely too much to ask for?

"You can let me go now - I can stand by myself."

"And why would I do that?"

As if I wasn't already suffering enough, he moved his hand downwards, slipping it beneath the hem of my shorts, and gathering up as much of my ass cheek as he could, pressing my body even closer to his. Now that I was this close to him, I was able to pick up on things that I hadn't picked up on before, such as the deep timber of his voice, the echo of lust as he spoke to me. He wanted to fuck me as much as I wanted to be fucked. I didn't know what it was that was making him so drawn to me, but maybe it was the smell of it around us.

"I didn't come here to find someone to sleep with."

"I did."

His blatant honestly was the very last thing that I had been expecting, and I found myself incapable of saying anything to him. He had practically just confirmed to me that that was why he was here, that that was why he was talking to me, why he was so insistent on making sure that he did not let me out of his sight. When I had concluded that he wanted to fuck me before, I did not know for sure, but now I did. And I wanted him to.

I didn't know how I was going to do it without coming across as desperate, but I wanted him to know that it was alright, that I did not mind us doing it. I had never come to a place like this for sex, and I had never imagined that I would. I didn't know the first thing about where to begin. Did we just do it here? Right where we were standing? It did not seem very appealing to me.

I wasn't sure whether it was something on my face that had given away what I was feeling, but he let go of my ass, trailing his hand lower down my leg, before he grabbed a hold of me, gripping me dangerously close to his body. I had no choice but to wrap my legs around him, feeling his arousal dig into the already tender flesh between my legs. It started to feel like I was wearing too many clothes, like I should have worn a dress. He would have been able to start fucking me instantly.

I could feel him moving, and I made the assumption that he was walking somewhere, although I did not quite know where it was that he was walking to. Before long, I felt myself being placed down on a flat surface, and upon giving a quick inspection, I found that he had put me down on one of the cocktail tables - leaving me at the perfect height for him to do what he wanted to do. I wasn't sure what I had been expecting, but when he pulled away and looked down at me, I certainly hadn't been expecting him to look at me as seriously as he was.

"Have you done this before?"

"A few times, yes."

I wasn't lying to him. I had done this before. I hadn't done it in a club, where there were dozens and dozens of people who could watch me and see me just as the person who was fucking me, but I couldn't say that. He looked like he knew what he was doing, and I didn't want him to think that I was inexperienced. But, the upside was, that he did now know that I wanted to do this. Perhaps he had already known long ago - why else would he have brought me here?

Before I had much time to process what was going on, my shirt was removed, taken over my head in the blink of an eye. The cold air hit my already hard nipples and I had to resist the urge to raise my hands and cover myself. I could already feel that there were a few people who had turned to look at me, but hopefully, through the craze of the flashing lights, they would never be able to recognise me if they were to see me again. I was left in my underwear and my shorts - shorts that might have been too immodest to leave the house in. Maybe that was why he had taken a liking to me. He had seen me as easy, and I was just proving him to be right.

But even as I found myself having these thoughts, I realized that I didn't really care about it in the first place. There was just something about the exhilaration that was travelling through me, that made me want to keep going forever. And then of course, there was the mouth that was sucking on my neck and moving down to my chest, that just felt... great. I didn't want him to stop.

I knew that it was only a matter of time before he started to fuck me, and I also knew that no one would bat an eye at us. They would notice, but they wouldn't judge. We weren't the first ones to do this here, and we definitely wouldn't be the last ones - and that didn't even only include this evening! Having sex was natural to our kind, and it was practically expected of us to do so.

There was absolutely nothing stopping me from going ahead with this, other than the fact that I still needed to find my mother. But, finding her now and finding her later would most likely yield the same results. There was no harm in doing something that would motivate me to find her.

His hand slipped in under my shorts, his touch as light as a feather against my skin. The hand to my right snaked around my waist and the hand to my left, worked further up through the hem of my shorts, until he was able to push my underwear to the side. I was still processing what he was doing, still trying to figure out how his movements could be so precise when he was latched onto my chest, when he found the nub above my entrance. He didn't even waste a moment, immediately moving his finger in a circular motion, seeming to apply the perfect amount of pressure. He knew what he was doing.

The sensations traveling through my body were so mind-numbing, so stimulating that I found myself fighting back a cry of pleasure. Just as I was about to open my mouth, finding it impossible to keep it in any longer, his mouth moved onto mine, keeping me from doing anything foolish that would attract too much attention to us. My legs started to convulse, the feeling so foreign and involuntary that I did not know what to do. It had never happened to me before. And I didn't want him to stop.

Just when I thought that things couldn't get better, he slipped a finger inside of me, while the other still continued to rub against my nub. I was almost certain that my eyes were doing to roll into the back of my head, but he pulled his mouth away from mine, moving it to my ear.

"You're wet."

"What are you going to do about it?"

My words seemed to have the desired affect on him, because he wasted no time in curling the finger that was inside of me, causing me to arch against him. Now that he had pointed it out, I was painfully aware of my wetness, of the fact that I could feel it running out of me. Did he like it? Or had he pointed it out because he didn't like it? Just as my embarrassment was starting to surface, he completely removed his hand from my pants, sticking his finger in his mouth - the movement slow and deliberate, and I could do no more than to stare at him, feeling my arousal increase even more.

"If you unbuckle my pants, then I'll show you what is supposed to be done when you're as wet as this."

His voice was firm - authoritative. But even so, I could pick up on the fact that it was still a suggesting. He hadn't told me to do it. He was still giving me a chance to back out of what was happening, and putting the ball in my court. And that just made me want him even more. So, I did what any warm blooded woman would have done, and I sat upright, reaching down between us while doing my best to focus on what my hands were doing. It was only when his belt had been unbuckled, and my hand had unbuttoned his pants, that he grabbed a hold of both of my wrists and pinned them to the table.

He looked at me, his eyes boring into mine. I could see my own lust and arousal reflected in them, and if I looked anywhere near as disheavelled as he did, I knew that I would not be able to explain myself when I got home. But did that even matter?

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No, I don't."

Once the words had left my mouth, I wrapped my hands around his neck, pulling myself towards him so that I could kiss him again. his mouth tasted warm, minty, and I could only hope that mine didn't taste like the fruit I had on the car ride here. It seemed to be the final straw, the final push that he needed, because he grabbed a hold of my waist and pulled me flush against him, his hands wasting no time in going down to position himself at my entrance.

My underwear, serving it's purpose, blocked him from entering me. I felt the way that his growl reverberated through his mouth, through out kiss, his frustration getting the better of him. His hands were light yet firm, and before I knew what had happened, he had ripped the centre part of my thong, as well as the waist. It was off in a second, and I couldn't deny that his eagerness only made me want his dick inside of me even more.

I didn't have much time to process what happened after that, because now that there was nothing stopping him, he slipped inside of me with ease. The moan that he had smothered before, sounded against his mouth once more. He was pushing me closer towards him, pushing himself deeper into my warmth. I was trying to adjust to the feel of him, trying to process the way that I was feeling, the exhilaration, the pleasure. It was more than I could have imagined.

I had had sex before, but it had been nothing in comparsion to this. And this was the way that he was fucking me on a one-night-stand? A quickie in the middle of the club? Was this what it felt like with a man who knew what he was doing?

The time seemed to pass by in a blur, my body practically writhing as he finished inside of me.

Anyone else might have been worried that that had happened, but I wasn't. After all, only mates could reproduce...