Chapter 3: Surprise

Hana

He looks at me with desire—more than I can measure or even consider having been desired before.

"Are you okay?" His index finger hovers over my mouth, brushing against my lower lip.

"I’m just a little nervous. I’ve never done this before," I say softly, embarrassed by my own words.

He moves his hand to my cheek and caresses it gently, just as he has shown himself to be so far.

"I imagine it’s not common for you to go to a hotel with a stranger." He states innocently, not realizing my words refer to something else.

My hands sweat, yet I feel them cold at the same time. I rub them against the fabric of my dress, feeling my courage fade as time passes. I want to avoid it, but I can’t go forward without him knowing.

"That’s not it, John. I’ve never done anything like what we’re about to do."

He remains still in front of me, without any reaction. He must think I’m lying.

"So you’re..." His words take time to come out. "...You’re a virgin, my love?"

I confirm. He raises an eyebrow, surprised.

"Is that a problem?" I ask, but he immediately shakes his head.

Without saying anything, I watch him walk over to the couch. He takes off his blazer and tosses it onto the upholstery, revealing his white shirt rolled up to his forearm, his muscles fighting against the tight fabric. My God, I feel like I’m going to explode.

"Don’t worry, love. I’ll be gentle."

His warm breath reaches me just before he gives me a slow and devastating kiss.

I feel his arms tighten around my waist, and he lifts me onto his lap with ease before carrying me to the bed. His body presses against mine on the soft mattress, and he pins my hands above my head, trapping them as if he were a living restraint.

His lips explore my neck with slow, wet kisses, continuing downward with intent until reaching my breasts. I’m still dressed, so he pulls at the fabric with one hand, opening the dress with brutal ease. He removes his shirt, almost ripping all the buttons off, not bothering to unfasten them calmly, his eyes filled with hunger as he sees me nearly completely bare, surrendered.

"I’m not going to run away," I say.

He smiles but doesn’t respond. He’s too busy analyzing me.

The moment his mouth touches my breasts, it feels like heaven is at my fingertips—or rather, at the tip of his tongue. He massages my nipples skillfully, trapping them lightly between his teeth before sucking with even more intensity.

The pleasure is almost painful. I feel my wet core throb.

He moves down my abdomen, continuing his exploration until he’s between my legs. His tongue glides over my damp panties, and a smirk forms on his lips. He tries not to boast upon realizing just how wet I am from his kisses.

Then he removes them swiftly, leaving me completely exposed to his touch.

His mouth teases, avoiding the true target, torturing me as he trails along the inside of my thigh. My hands automatically grip his hair, and I beg:

"Lick me, please," I whimper, breathless.

He bites his lips in response, showing how much he likes hearing me beg.

And then, he grants my request.

His tongue finds my clit effortlessly. I feel my body pulse as his mouth moves over different parts of me. The sensation is indescribable, and he seems to savor every bit he touches.

He devours me, completely indulging himself. His grip on my thighs tightens, and he buries himself even deeper. I’m surprised by how much he seems to enjoy what he’s doing, and damn, he does it so well.

Heat rises to my face—it’s unbearable. My legs nearly collapse, trembling.

I’m coming, and he’s barely begun.

God, how embarrassing. What is he going to think of me?

I see him smile as he realizes my climax. He moves back over me, dragging his mouth along my body, kissing me, letting me taste myself on his lips.

"So fast, you didn’t even let me enjoy it a little..."

He keeps kissing me, making my body feel like that explosion wasn’t enough.

"I’m sorry," I say, embarrassed. "I couldn’t help it."

"Don’t ever apologize for coming, love."

When he calls me that, the heat worsens.

"I want you completely satisfied when I’m done," he says before pulling away again.

I watch as he removes the rest of his clothing until he exposes his ridiculously hard, needy cock.

On impulse, I sit up and try to touch him. I want to please him, too, but he pushes me back down until I’m completely lying beneath him.

He wants this to be about me.

And I love that feeling.

The emptiness between my legs is already unbearable, and I’m desperate for him to return.

His right hand caresses my face, while his left guides his now-covered member, rubbing it against my entrance, teasing me even more.

"You’re a sadist." My words come out almost as a moan, and he seems to like it because he keeps torturing me.

"Beg for it, love. Ask me, and I’ll give it to you," he whispers, brushing his stubble against my ear.

"Fuck me, Mr. Kauer."

I do my best to make it sound sexy, and he moves abruptly.

Finally, I feel him inside me.

His cock stretches me slowly, and I barely care about the pain that follows.

I want to feel him.

If pain is necessary for that, it’s worth it.

I grip his hips, pushing him into me eagerly, almost regretting it when I feel my insides stretch to accommodate his size.

He’s so thick, filling me beyond what I think I can take.

But the pain is fleeting, melting deliciously into the most pleasurable sensation I’ve ever felt.

Fuck, he fucks me so well I feel like crying.

The climax builds again, unpredictable.

I see him focused, his movements careful, as if his life depends on this. His body moves over mine deliciously, and when I sense he’s close, I grab onto his torso, pulling him in for a kiss.

He spills inside me while I savor his tongue, and the sounds he makes as he kisses me and comes at the same time drive me insane.

I want to do it all over again, even though it’s barely over.

John Kauer was the first—and best—sex I could have imagined.

Nothing could ruin this incredible night.

Or so I thought.

Until I see him unlock his phone after we’ve gone at it twice.

I recognize John in the picture, standing with a woman, but it’s not her presence that unsettles me—it’s the boy between them.

He looks younger, but he’s easy to recognize.

And just like that, I understand why the name Kauer felt so familiar.

John Kauer is the mysterious, never-before-seen stepfather of my ex-boyfriend.