Prologue- Part Two

The more the bristle wind blew her raven hair into her face, the harder it became to get her eyes off him. It happened all too fast. Her prince charming, the major character in her wet dreams, soaking her panties and beddings every blessed night.

No, every fucking night.

It's fucked up, so was the feeling. Michael King, billionaire charmer and CEO of Kings Fashion House has popped the question, and she said yes. Who wouldn't?!

He'd asked her to choose anywhere in the city for their dinner date, and she remembered this iconic alfresco restaurant she'd always wanted to try. He sat across the table, slicing through a smoked lamp. In a denim jacket and black pants, all he needed was a cowboy hat to look a rancher.

'He's so hot!' she thought, moaning on the crushed steamed mussels in her mouth, the aromatic flavors bursting on her palate. 'I bet he tastes better than the mussels and crab cakes.'

Taut jawline, carved brows and massive corded hands that could sweep her off her feet in one featherless scoop. His midnight curls curtained his long lashes, tumbling across his broad shoulders, his beard- her favorite part of him- was neatly combed. Her lips quivered on impulse.

What she would do to comb her fingers through them.

'My God!'

"Stop eye-fucking me, Avery," he said without looking up from his plate. "Say the word, and I'll be deep inside you the way you want."

She gasped, setting the cutlery aside on the table. Flustered, she cleared her throat and parked a few strands of hair behind one ear. He just had to say it. Was her sinful intentions that obvious?

Tingles ran down her spine whenever he spoke dirty. They'd fucked like rabbits, yet, he found a novel path to the front of her pelvis like it's his first time touching her. Pressing her legs together, Avery severed the claws of desires pulling her under.

''You'd do that for me?" she muttered, bringing her eyes to meet his. "We just got here, and you have barely touched your food."

She'd barely touched hers too. Who cares, though? The food could wait. Michael? Nah...

What better way to end the date than eating Michael for dessert?!

'Who gets laid on a first date?' a voice in her head cautioned, 'You're better than this, girl!'

Avery was way past saving. Conflicted thoughts dueled for supremacy in her head. Apparently, the bad girl in her was winning by a landslide. She didn't even know who she was anymore.

"At the snap of a finger." He winked at her and stood to his feet, hiding the gibbous behind his quarterback frame. He stretched his hand towards her, an adorable smile plastered on his face. "Give me your hands."

How it happened was above her. When her hand connected with his, they were transported into her bedroom, naked and sweaty on top of him.

"What just happ-" No sooner had words left her mouth than she felt a stiff thrust part her lady part. "Michael..."

Being her first intimate session, her breath caught. Fire cracked on her skin, shooting rockets of colours in the sky. She waited on end for the pain that came with the first thrust, but it never came. Michael ploughed her terrain with expertise. She'd always wanted her first to know his way around women. He mowed her lawn and pruned the stalk to the stem of her bud.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She felt him down there and up on her hard buds, squeezing the modesty out of them. She searched her mind for the voice of reason, but the whore in her had silenced it to the recess of her mind.

"I can't hear you," he pinched her waist with both hands and guided her to follow his strokes.

'Damn it, girl. You're getting the D!'

"Michael," she only but murmured as words failed her.

His finger found her clit, increasing her pleasure voltage to supercharge. "You like it when I touch you like this?"

She sat up straighter, running her hands through her hair. Michael was hitting the right spot and she was going crazy with exhilaration.

"Yes, Michael," she bit her bottom lip, and lowered her dreamy eyes to his Greek frame, glistening under the moonlight pouring in from the window. Stars twinkled on his chest and arms, and she didn't know when she lowered herself to lick his nipple. "Let me return the favor."

Settling both hands on his baked chest, she rode his cock, chasing her orgasm. Michael groaned. He met her rotations halfway, with a much fiercer thrust, helping her to the peak of climax. If he kept slamming into her this way, she'd come undone on his cock in no time.

A shudder went down her spine as goosebumps coated her flesh. She flicked her tongue over the nipple, tweaking the second between her thumb and pointer.

"Fuck it, Avery," his grunts were music to her ears. His cock was tearing her apart, and she'd want it no other way. "I'm almost there."

She felt him deep; deeper than her toys had travelled up her cervix. At this rate, Michael would get her pregnant before she had the decency to caution herself.

He grabbed a handful of her ass, and tighter himself inside her. She met his gaze and smirked. What she saw pushed her higher up the threshold. Lust, need, and hunger for something barbaric blanketed his face. He was enjoying it as much.

His hands lithely mapped her sweaty back. "Get your face ready," he whispered into her ear. "I'm going to make you cum so hard you'll hate me after it."

Her cheeks heated. Balancing her hands on the side of the bed, her face buried in the crook of his neck. Michael made true to his promise. Eyes closed, she gave herself to his lead, as he mercilessly vandalized her brand new vagina.

"Michael!" Before she had the sense to hold back, her teeth sank into his shoulder, as her orgasm washed over her.

She opened her eyes to see the man who'd made her first sex a remarkable feat. "Thank yo-"

A wailing sound blared into the moment. Tearing her eyes open, she jerked upright, catching her breath.

"Not again," she groaned, falling back into the messy bed, soaked in her release.

It was all a fucking dream, pun unintended.