Wait.
I looked down at Delilah as a few tears trickled down the side of her eyes and she wiped them away quickly.
“Delilah, are you a virgin?”
She went full red.
Shit! I knew I should’ve gone slow. God, now I felt guilty.
“If I say yes, are you going to stop?” her voice cracked.
I sighed and looked down at where we were still attached.
“I’m not going to stop, but you should’ve told me.”
“How was I going to tell you? Hey, Sebastien! At thirty, I’m still a virgin, I’d love it if you’d pop my cherry.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. I was happy that Delilah was able to find humor in the situation. There was no way I was pulling out now; I needed to feel her wrapped around me.
“Are you okay now? And be honest.”
“It hurts a little, but please don’t stop.” She held my biceps gently.
I sighed. “I won’t, sweetheart. We’ll go slow, okay?”
Slowly, I reached over and grabbed a pillow.
“Lift your ass.”
She shook her head. “What If I get blood on the pillow?”
“My cock is inside of you, and you’re embarrassed about a little blood?”
“Yes,” she said, stubbornly.
“Well, don’t be. Lift.”
Reluctantly, she lifted herself and I wedged the pillow under her carefully.
I opened her legs a little wider and got up on my knees, watching her pussy lips glistening.
“I’m going to inch into you, okay?”
Delilah nodded, but I felt her entire body tense. I used my thumb and rubbed her clit. The more I rubbed the less tense she was and the more she wiggled herself onto my cock at her own timing. When I was fully inside of her, I closed my eyes, counted to ten and held her tight so she couldn’t wiggle against me.
Fuck!
She was so tight I knew that if I moved then I would’ve gone over the edge. I felt her trace her fingers along my biceps.
“Sebastien, are you okay?” she asked concerned.
I leaned over and kissed her lightly on the mouth. "I should be asking you that. Are you okay? Are you in any pain?”
“I’m not in any pain.”
“Good. I’m sorry, but I can’t hold back anymore. I’m going to go hard and fast. If you feel any pain, just let me know.”
“Okay.”
That was the only answer I needed. I grabbed Delilah by her thighs and pulled her body as close to me as I could possibly get before I started pounding into her. Her breasts jiggled and she grabbed fistfuls of the sheets as she screamed my name over and over. It wasn’t long before I growled as I exploded inside of her. I closed my eyes as the last of my cum emptied into her. When I was finished, I collapsed on top of her, my cock still inside of her.
“Fuck!” I moaned
“Fuck, indeed.” She stroked my hair.
We stayed like that for a few minutes before I inched out of her.
I kissed her on her forehead. “I’ll be right back.”
I went into her bathroom and got a rag and washed it under warm water. When I got back to the room, Delilah hadn’t moved, but the cover was partly draped over her.
I went to her legs and opened them.
“W-what are you doing?” she asked, propping herself on her elbows.
“Cleaning you up.”
“Oh. I can do that.” She reached out her hand for the rag.
“Not happening. Lie back,” I insisted.
She lay back on the bed and played with her fingers nervously.
I passed the warm rag gently to her and she winced, but I didn’t say anything. I finished cleaning her up before I went into the bathroom and cleaned myself. By the time I got back to the room, Delilah was already drifting off to sleep.
I kissed her and she opened her eyes groggily.
“Come lie up here with me.”
She groaned, but she shifted her position, and I covered us. My arm was around her as her head rested on my shoulder, her hand on my chest. One leg was bent over my thigh. It seemed that I preferred a naked Delilah sleeping next to me to one wearing boy shorts.
It wasn’t long before Delilah’s breathing had evened out, her body completely relaxed in my arms. Though she looked peaceful, my mind was anything but.
As I held her, I recalled every moment we’d shared, from the time she walked into that interview about two months ago till now.
Delilah had carried a burden that would’ve crushed most women a long time ago. Yet, she came to work, did what was required of her, worked overtime, smiled and laughed with colleagues, endured my bullshit and remained silent. She didn’t seek help, didn’t ask anyone to listen to her problems, she just endured.
It infuriated me. Until me, she had no one to rely on, no one in her corner to fight her battles for her, now that Dean was hiding in rehab, although that son of a bitch was the cause of her problems in the first place.
I should’ve known something was wrong when I saw where she lived. And when I hadn’t gotten onto Dean, I should’ve dug deeper. But, with everything going on at the club, I had pushed that on the back burner, ignoring my gut instinct. I’d never let a feeling like that about Delilah slide again. Ever!
I tightened my grip on her and she snuggled closer in my arms. She needed me to protect her. Earlier, when she heard the sound of Hawthorne’s voice, I saw the fear in her eyes, and how she hid behind me and gripped my shirt made something inside me snap, awakening my beast.
My beast had lain dormant for over fifteen years. He first emerged when I was fifteen after my parents passed away. Without them, I felt lost and angry. I started drinking, smoking and skipping school, pushing my brothers away in the process because I didn’t think they understood me.
But Eso and his boys showed up, bridged the gap, and they became my family. Eventually, I dropped out of school, became reckless, irrational and impulsive. Eso and I painted the town red wherever we went. But my brothers never gave up on me, no matter how hard I fought them. They banded together and reeled me away from the edge of the cliff I was standing on. But thanks to Hawthorne, The Beast had resurfaced and was sniffing for blood.
What if I hadn't had my boys looking out for Delilah when Hawthorne's goons trashed her apartment? When Rex told me what happened over the phone, I ordered them not to lose her. When I heard she had pulled into the parking lot at work, I was relieved. But would she have just slept at the office that night and disappeared the next day? Or would she have slept there and then just gotten a motel room and pretended that everything was okay?
Delilah was mine to protect now.
Unbeknownst to her, assigned plainclothes security detail were always following her. If Hawthorne thought he had any chance of getting her back, he was in for a rude awakening.
I drifted off to sleep knowing that tonight, I claimed Delilah’s virginity, and in a few weeks, I’ll claim her body legally. Now that I had her here in my house, under my protection and control, there was no way I was allowing her to leave.
She was mine.
***
The next morning, when I opened my eyes, Delilah wasn’t next to me. After imagining waking up to her in my arms so many times, I was disappointed she wasn’t here. A brief moment of frustration surged through me when my cock jerked at the thought of Delilah. After last night, morning sex would’ve been the perfect way to start my Sunday morning.
Sighing, I swung my legs over the side of the bed. My clothes were folded neatly on the armchair next to it. I slid on my boxers, used the bathroom and went to find my fiancée.
It was only ten a.m. and I'd figured after all the champagne she drank last night that she hadn’t been up long, and would be in the kitchen. Instead of finding her, I found a full pot of coffee waiting for me. I poured myself a cup and leaned against the kitchen counter as I sipped the hot beverage.
After finishing the coffee, I washed the cup, returned to Delilah’s room to grab the rest of my things, and then made my way to my room. After washing my hair and masturbating to the images of Delilah moaning my name last night, I took a long cold shower to finish clearing my thoughts.
After drying off, I pulled on a pair of boxers, a sleeveless T-shirt and a pair of shorts. I quickly dried most of the water from my hair and headed to the back porch.
Delilah was sitting on the step, her head against the banister, her eyes were distant, glazed over, and her lips pressed in a thin line. I stood there looking at her for a few minutes before sitting beside her. At first, she didn’t notice me, so I touched her shoulder. The way she jumped out of her skin told me that she was worried about something.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Tell me what’s bothering you.”
“Nothing,” she answered quickly.
My tone hardened. “Delilah, the look on your face and your reaction tells me you’re not okay. What is it?”
She shook her head. “Look, really, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
I wasn’t buying it. Not for a second. This was a woman who was running for her life and mentioned it to no one until she couldn’t hide it anymore. Whether she liked it or not, she was going to tell me what the hell the problem was.
“Did Hawthorne or any of his boys contact you?” I asked, my voice tense as my eyes narrowed.
“No!” She inhaled deeply and rubbed her hands on the thighs of her fitted jeans. “I mean…no, it’s nothing like that.”
My patience was running low. I'd thought that after the night we'd shared Delilah would be more open with me. “Then what is it?”
She shifted nervously next to me and then stood abruptly.
“I need to shower,” she mumbled and hurried away.
By the time I caught her wrist and spun her to face me, she was already in the house.
“Stop lying to me! Tell me what the hell the problem is!” I demanded, raising my voice.
“Sebastien, you’re hurting me! Let me go!” She tried to yank her hand away from me, but I tightened my grip.
“Not until you tell me what the problem is!”
“The problem is you, okay? The problem is you!” she snapped.
Surprised by her answer, my hold loosened on her wrist, allowing her to free herself. As I watched her storm off it dawned on me.
She regretted what happened between us last night.
Shit!
Maybe she gave in last night because she had alcohol in her system. But she didn’t have alcohol in her system when Hawthorne interrupted our kiss or in the dressing stall two weeks ago. Delilah wanted me as much as I wanted her.
So what was the real problem?
Having already paid off her debt and publicly announced our engagement, I knew Deliah had no intention of walking away from our agreement. She feared Hawthorne way too much and wanted to protect Dean and her secret.
I’d let her be. For now.
But, by the end of the day, this little problem Delilah had would be sorted out.
For the rest of the day, every time Delilah saw me, she either went in the opposite direction or left the room. By the time five p.m. had rolled around, I'd had enough of her cat-and-mouse games and cornered her in the kitchen.
“Delilah, that problem you mentioned earlier, it’s time to talk about it.” I folded my arms across my chest and locked eyes with her.
She tried to step around me, but I blocked her.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She met my gaze squarely.
“You don’t have a choice. Spill it. You said I was the problem. How am I the problem?”
Delilah sighed deeply. “What happened last night can’t happen again.” She added quickly, “At least not until the wedding night.” She wrapped her arms around herself and lowered her eyes. “I’d prefer to sleep in my bed, alone, until then.”
My eyes narrowed and my jaw clenched. Delilah wanted to sleep…alone.
After what we shared last night, I'd been hoping for a repeat, and soon.
I stepped forward, closing the small gap between us. With the palm of my hand, I lifted her chin gently, forcing her to look at me. Her breath quickened.
I leaned in, my lips almost touching hers, my voice dangerously calm. “Is that what you want?”
She swallowed hard. I swore her body shifted slightly towards me. “Yes,” she ground out.
“ Ms. Malone, enjoy your space while it lasts.”
I turned and walked away. I’d play her little game for now, but once she became Mrs. Sebastien Quantum, all games would be over.