Chambers of Desire: Opus 1 by Sophie Moreau Page B

virginity by getting drunk off wine and fucking the first blonde boy that winks at me.”
    “This isn’t what I signed up for,” I continued.  “Yeah, I went along with the three weeks but I wanted to auction off my virginity, not all this nonsense. ‘Oh, it’s fine if you don’t want sex, Sabs, we’ll go at your pace,’ you say, but you think it’s fine to fuck with my feelings and treat me like a toy in every other way.  God, Calvin! I wanted the sex.  I wanted you to fuck me and for me to be done with the stupid fucking virginity that I saved for my stupid, cheating fiancé and, prove my independence.  Maybe it’s not mature but that’s what I wanted to put the last horrible month behind me. And I just end up being manipulated by someone else instead.”
    He didn’t say anything, but suddenly he was up, in front of me, pulling me close.  I pounded on his chest like an angry child until he caught my wrist in his hand. God, he was strong. Before I knew it, his other hand was around my neck, as he pinned me against the wall.
    “Consider it done,” he whispered, his face looming next to mine. He smelled wonderful. I gasped as he slid his hand under my clothes, sliding his palm over my breast, massaging me roughly, pulling my nipple between his fingers. His face dug into my neck, half-biting, half-kissing. I leaned away to let him have his fill. He trailed his lips up my chin and cheek, and when our lips met, I could taste the salt of my tears on his kiss. And what a kiss! I felt all his strength, all his anger. I felt myself slipping away under his touch. I was still furious but I was glad to be.  I was grateful to have him to hold on to, to be mad at. I hardly noticed his removing my clothes. My arms went where he put them; my shirt slipped over my head. My skirt fell to the floor, and I moaned as he tore away the skimpy thong and I felt his warm fingers against my sex.
    “This was how you wanted it, right?” he growled. My only answer was to fumble at the buttons on his shirt.  He grabbed my ass and pulled our bodies together. His lips pulled at my ear, and I cried a shudderi ng gasp in his. I could feel him hard against my thigh, and I wanted his pants out of the way.  His mouth was back at mine, bruising my lips with his hungrily, pinning me against the wall, shoving my thighs apart with his knee. 
    His fingers dug into my hips; his mouth sent warmth crawling down my back.
    “You said you wanted to be fucked , Sabrina. Tell me you changed your mind; tell me you want me to stop.” One of his fingers slipped between my folds. I gasped, hanging on to him. “See how easy it is? See how easily I can make you belong to no one but me?” he hissed. He spun me and pressed my cheek into the wall. My hips stuck out by instinct, and his hand cupped under my ass without missing a beat.
    I couldn’t speak, body craving his touch but at the same time, fear began to set in. I whimpered, but this time not with desire.
    “So, do you want it, Sabrina? This is really how you want it? Because if you think I can’t do it like that you’re very badly mistaken.” His voice was rough with desire but I also sensed his control. I… I was not in control. Of myself, let alone him. Tears ran down my face, but I pressed back against his hand.  I couldn’t stop myself.  I wanted it over with. 
    He pulled me close to him, his finger finding my clit, melting me. I couldn’t put a thought together.  He tortured me that way, deliciously, kissing me, at first roughly and then more gently, then moved his hand away. I held on to him. He picked me up easily, and moved to the office couch, sat with me in his lap. 
    His voice was still dangerous when he whispered in my ear, “Believe me, Sabrina, I’m capable of what you say you want.” I sobbed against his neck. “Shh,” he said, stroking my hair. “It’s all right.”
    He waited until I was breathing more calmly. 
    “Sabrina, I’m sorry you felt manipulated,”