Ross smirked at her horrified expression, his tone almost playful as he said, "What's wrong, April? Don't look so scared. This is natural, you know. You'll come to love it soon enough."
April shook her head violently, her tears flowing harder. "No… please… I can't… It's too much!" she stammered, her voice barely audible.
But Ross simply leaned back, his smirk growing as he reveled in her fear. "Later," he said casually, his voice carrying a cruel amusement. "I'll fuck you later. For now, you need a little more foreplay to make your first time unforgettable."
Before April could react, Ross's hands gripped her waist and lifted her effortlessly. She let out a startled gasp as he adjusted their positions, his strength making her feeble struggles meaningless.
In moments, she found herself atop him, her face hovering dangerously close to his throbbing length.
She froze in place, her heart pounding in her chest as the realization hit her—she was now straddling him in an intimate position, her most private area just inches from his face.
Ross lay back comfortably, his dark eyes glinting with amusement as he studied her reaction. "Relax, April," he said smoothly, his tone almost soothing. "This is just to help you get used to me. It'll make things easier… for both of us."
April's face burned with shame as she realized the position he had placed them in—a perfect 69. Her eyes darted down to his length, and she felt her stomach twist with anxiety. How could something like this be happening?
Ross, however, seemed unfazed by her inner turmoil. His hands gripped her thighs firmly, spreading her slightly as his face hovered just beneath her. He took a deep breath, his lips curling into a smirk.
"I'm so lucky I get to be the first to taste you," he murmured, his breath hot against her sensitive skin. The warmth sent an involuntary shiver through her body, and she hated herself for the way her traitorous body responded.
Before she could steel herself against the sensations, Ross's lips pressed against her folds. April let out a sharp gasp, her entire body jolting at the unfamiliar touch.
"Ahhh…!" she cried out, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her as her legs trembled.
Ross wasted no time. His tongue darted out, teasing her with practiced skill as he explored her most sensitive spots. Each flick, each stroke, sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body.
She gritted her teeth, desperate to hold back the sounds threatening to escape her lips, but it was no use.
"You taste incredible," Ross murmured against her, his voice muffled but thick with satisfaction. He hummed low in his throat, the vibrations adding another layer of torment to her already overwhelmed senses.
April's tears continued to fall, her mind screaming at her to resist, but her body betrayed her completely. Her hips began to move instinctively, seeking more of the sensations she hated herself for craving.
She sobbed quietly, her fingers tangling in the sheets as she tried to anchor herself. The war between her mind and body was a losing battle, and she knew it.
Ross, noticing her involuntary movements, chuckled softly. "See? I told you you'd enjoy it," he said, his tone mocking yet triumphant.
April wanted to protest, to deny him the satisfaction of knowing what he was doing to her, but the words wouldn't come. All she could manage were broken moans as her body succumbed to the relentless pleasure.
For the first time in her life, April felt the full weight of her femininity. She hated the power Ross held over her, but she couldn't deny the sensations he awakened within her—a cruel mix of shame, fear, and forbidden desire.
"So what if you're right? I think that any man can do this to me. You're just a petty thief." April's words were laced with a venomous edge, a sharp retort aimed directly at Ross.
Her voice, usually soft and melodic, was now a weapon, fueled by simmering resentment and a desperate need for control.
Ross, unfazed, merely chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that seemed to vibrate through the room. "Is that so? You both have sweet mouths, April. Up and down. But I like this one better."
He leaned in, his eyes glinting with a motivated gleam, and continued his exploration of April's body.
This time, he focused on a slow, deliberate teasing of her clitoris, a calculated dance of torment and pleasure.
He moved with a practiced hand, knowing the precise pressure points that would send shivers down her spine, a symphony of whispers and moans that filled the room.
Minutes stretched into an eternity, each tick of the clock a slow, painful reminder of the escalating tension. April's breaths grew ragged, her body a taut spring poised on the edge of release.
The air crackled with anticipation, the room a suffocating chamber of desire.
Finally, when she was perched on the very edge, a precipice of pure ecstasy, Ross leaned in and, with a sudden, decisive bite, captured her clit with his lips.
HARD!
A gasp, almost a strangled cry, escaped April's lips. The bite was precise, a jolt of pure sensation that ignited a firestorm of pleasure within her.
She arched her back, her body convulsing in a series of shuddering spasms. It was a symphony of moans, a torrent of sound that echoed through the room, a volcanic eruption of pure, unadulterated bliss.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!" The scream was a culmination of everything she had been holding back, a release of pent-up tension and a joyous surrender to the intensity of the moment.
A wave of liquid gold, a torrent of exquisite pleasure, erupted from her body, cascading over Ross's face.
The room was momentarily filled with the thick, sweet scent of her release, a symphony of pleasure that clung to the air like a warm embrace. It covered his face, a sticky, sweet film, but he didn't flinch.
He leaned in deeper, drinking in every drop of her release, savoring the exquisite taste of her climax. He licked the droplets clinging to his face, each lick a testament to the sheer intensity of the moment.
There was nothing quite like the taste of a virgin's love juice, a unique, potent flavor that danced on his tongue.
He felt a profound satisfaction, a sense of triumph mingled with an appreciation for the raw, untamed power of pleasure.
This wasn't just sex; it was an art form, a dance of desire and surrender, and he was the conductor, leading April on a journey to the very pinnacle of ecstasy.