Page 128 of Modern Romance December 2025 1-4

I didn’t think my first time with a man would be so intense or so sudden, but down in the bar, when he told me he was going to give me back to Georgios like I was an unwanted gift, all I thought washell no.

He told me he wanted me then tried to frighten me by telling me he was going to ‘fuck my brains out’, but he didn’t know that I’m not a woman easily frightened by anything, let alone strong language.

What I am is a woman tired of being told what’s best for her by men, and certainly what was best for me in that moment was him. I didn’t expect to lose my virginity in Singapore, but I knew if I didn’t insist on him taking me up to his suite, I was never going to lose it. Not with my brother watching my every move.

And anyway, when would I ever get the chance to lose it to a man like this one? Dark and dangerous and so insanely attractive it hurts. Never, that’s when, and never is too far away for me.

Yes, I was nervous when we got to his suite, but when he kissed me all of that fell away. I was dry tinder to a lit match and I went up in flames, the heat of his mouth and the touch of his tongue igniting a conflagration inside me that I had no hope of putting out. Not that I wanted to put it out.

His body was so hard and so hot, and I wanted him to burn with me. I wanted to touch him, feel his bare skin against mine, taste him. He smelled of a forest on a hot summer day, warm and spicy, and I wanted to bury my face in his neck and inhale him.

But he’s leaving me with no chance to do that as he presses my legs apart, opening me up, and the way he’s holding them wide makes my breath catch hard in my throat. He’s looking down between my thighs and I feel my face burn with embarrassment even as excitement gathers in a tight hard knot.

Slowly, he slides a hand beneath each of my thighs and hooks my knees over his shoulders, his hands spreading me as he bends. His fingers are careful, but his gaze is ferocious as it meets mine. I’m panting, shivering all over, pleasure drawn to screaming point.

Then his head dips and I cry out as his tongue spears through the folds of my sex, exploring and hungry. I jerk again as he circles my clit and I can’t stop the cries he brings from me. My hips lift to his mouth and when he puts his hands firmly on my hips, holding me down, I whimper.

‘What do you want, dragonfly?’ he whispers against my wet flesh. ‘Tell me.’

‘Y-you,’ I stammer, finding it hard to get the words out. ‘I want you.’

‘You want me to what?’ He gives me a long, slow lick as if I’m an ice cream melting in the sun. ‘Be specific.’

I know what he wants me to say so I say it. ‘I want y-you to make me c-come.’

‘With my tongue or my fingers?’

I look down to where his dark head is between my thighs. I’m wearing my red sandals and nothing else, the heels digging into his back, and the sight is the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. ‘Y-your tongue,’ I say shakily.

His head dips again and he pushes his tongue deep inside me, and I come apart and shatter like glass under pressure, pleasure exploding through every nerve ending and tearing a scream from my throat.

I lie there, dazed and shaking as he releases his hold on my thighs and moves away. Then I hear the sound of his fly being unzipped and he’s back again, stretched above me, his hips between my thighs, one hand sliding beneath me, lifting me as the blunt head of his cock pushes into me.

He goes slowly, but I’m so wet there’s no friction and no pain. I’m shaking as he gathers me close, easing deeper as I stretch around him, holding him as he holds me. It’s a strange feeling, not bad, and yet not quite good either.

‘Are you okay?’ he asks roughly.

I manage a whisper. ‘Y-yes.’

‘Breathe, dragonfly,’ he murmurs, watching me.

So I do and he begins to move and, like magic, the feeling of panic disappears, pleasure taking its place. It’s good now, very good, very,verygood and I’m trembling all over as I feel another orgasm begin to build.

‘Better?’ he asks, his dark eyes pinned to mine.

‘Yes,’ I breathe. ‘Oh…my God, yes…’

He slides one large hand beneath my right thigh and lifts it up around his hips, enabling him to slide deeper, then he moves faster, harder. I groan, turning my face against the warmth of his neck, inhaling his scent as I press my eyes shut.

He’s holding me so close, one hand gripping my thigh, the other cupping the back of my head, and even though he said he couldn’t promise me gentleness, I sense he’s trying to be gentle all the same.

I want to tell him that I meant it when I said I didn’t need it, but I was wrong as it turned out. I don’t know why this is shattering me, why his touch and the way he holds me is ripping me open, yet it is. I can’t look him in the eye as we move together, it feels too intimate, too raw, and for the first time tonight, I’m feeling too vulnerable.

He moves even harder, faster, and then his fingers curl in my hair as he pulls my head back, and he’s looking down at me, black eyes full of that ferocious heat, then he’s kissing me, and it’s not gentle at all. It’s hard and it’s savage and it’s demanding, and when he lets go of my thigh, and slides a hand between us, his finger pressing down on my clit, I scream against his mouth as the climax takes me.

Even then he doesn’t let me go, holding me fast as he chases his own orgasm, his teeth against my bottom lip as he finds it, his kiss a dark storm that sweeps me away.

A stillness settles over us afterwards and for a long moment I lie there on the carpet, his body a hot weight on mine. He’s heavy, but I don’t move. The wool of his trousers prickles against the soft skin of my inner thighs and the buttons of his half-undone shirt press against my tender breasts. His head is turned into my hair, his breath warm against the side of my neck.