Don’t hurt me I’m a virgin - S01 E22

Story 2 months ago

Don’t hurt me I’m a virgin - S01 E22

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 22

Author's Note:

Don’t re-ad if this is not your thing! I hate seeing complaints about it when clearly I stated what it contains.
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“Let’s take a bath.” Jeremy murmurs against my br**st, hours later after s-en-sual love ma-king.

He lays on t©p of me with one of his legs dR@p£d all over my w@!st while his face rests against my che-st. I run my f!ngersthrou-gh his unruly che-stnut brown locks of his hair enjoying the soft texture over my soft pads.

“Alright.” I murmur, slightly opening my eyes.

He takes his weight off me and immediately I feel deprived of his bodily warmth. I feel him moving about as soon as he gets off the be-d. However I shift to my front and hvg the pillow to myself.

“C’mon, bath now,” He commands as he swats my backside.

I yelp and jump from the contact and then I give him a disapproving look. He’s wearing his bo-xer briefs with nothing else. My disapproving stare turn to one of lvst as I marvel at his toned b©dy.

He bites hisl-ips to smother his smile, but that makes him so appealing de-sire explodes within my b©dy again.

I still want him again even though we just did it.

Aren’t you becoming insatiable. My inner voice snorts.

Suddenly my stomach growls unexpectedly.

Where the hell did that come from?I look up at Jeremy hopefully thinking he didn’t catch that but he frowns down at me specifically on my stomach.

“You’re hungry?” His tone seems to be too calculated as if hiding his annoyance.

I shrug at him, the intimidation I feel from his anger ma-king me speechless.

“When did you last eat?”
“Today.”
“Don’t be smart with me Leyla. When? What time?”

I bite myl-ip. The only thing I ate had been the sandwich Julie had given me at our lunch break, that’s another benefit of working at that café, you get free lunches. That’s the only thing I’ve eaten all day.

“I ate a sandwich at lunch.” I tell him truthfully.

He winces. “plea-se tell me it isn’t the only thing you’ve ate all day?”

I gulp. Why is he ma-king a big deal out of this? I’m used to it, in fact I bear it enough that hunger no longer matters to me.

He takes my silence as a yes. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hungry all this time?”
He springs into motion as he gr-abs my hand and pu-lls me r0ûghly off the be-d. He then frees me as he moves to the other door connected to this room which I as-sume is the bathroom.

He doesn’t take long when he returns with a white bathrobe covering his b©dy and on his hands another.

“Come here.”

I do as I’m told and I let him put the bathrobe around me and he even so ties the sash.

Seriously what am I… five?

But I know his gesture is only intent to be protective so I don’t complain.

“We’ll eat then take a bath.” He takes my hands and leads me out of his be-droom.

“Isn’t it past midnight?” I take this chance to lighten up his mood.

“Yes, it is.” He sm-irks down at me.

His anger has fled. Thank goodness for that.

“So isn’t it a bit too late to eat and bathe at this time?”
“Who says we don’t have to eat and bathe late?”

I smile at that. “Fair point.”
Jeremy leads us down the stairway and this time I get to marvel at the intricate interior that is of this mansion.

Abstract paintings similar to the ones at his h0tel room dominate most of his hallways. As we get down stairs, I count about seven coffee tables each holding flower vases or just vases without flowers, and then when he leads us to the double glas-s doors into the hallway. There’s even more paintings, and two crystal chandeliers lights hanging artistically on the ceiling.

When we get to the other side, there are two rooms which look like living rooms as each have hvge couches in them but I just get a glimpse of the room before Jeremy drags me to the kitchen.

I’m guessing there’s a whole lot of rooms in this mansion to be counted, whether I’ll ever get the chance to explore more, is up to this man who’s now dragging us to the kitchen.

I stare awestruck at the entrance marvelling at spacious of the room.

I think the whole kitchen is probably the size of Greta’s living room along with her be-droom and kitchen.

There’s a six chair counter island suited right in the middle of the room surrounded by black rounded stools. I can’t even begin to imagine how expensive the hvge stoves cost along with a separate ovens hanging next to one of the cu-pboards that have no handles.

As I’m aweing the kitchen, I’m aware that Jeremy has dragged me to sit on one of the stools on the island and then he searches for food on the double-door fridge.

“What do you want to eat?” He asks.

“I don’t mind? Do you cook?”
“No, that’s what ‘the hired help’ are there for.”

“So you don’t ever cook?” I’m curious.

He pops his head out of the fridge in order to look at my reaction. “I’ve never nee-ded to before, not when I have people to do it for me, besides I’m always busy to be domestic.”
“You’re being domestic now.” I smile mischievously. Of course he doesn’t nee-d to cook. He’s rich…always been, always will.
“I guess I am.” Hisl-ips twitch in a smile, his eyes brimming with a knowing glance at me.

Then he returns to the fridge. “There’s salad? Hmm, I don’t think that’ll be too filling.”
“No that’s fine. I don’t want anything heavy.” I admit.

He looks out of the fridge again to gauge my reaction.

I laugh at him actually finding it a bit funny how serious he’s taking this whole situation.

I think my laugh is infectious because he smiles back. “You know it’s so rare to see you truly smile or laugh. It’s kind of refreshing.”

I blus-h as I look away from his glorious scorching eyes.

I feel his pres£nce before I look up. He tilts my chin for my eyes to meet his. “You don’t have to be shy Leyla. You really are truly beautiful and the fact that you’re unaware of it just makes you more attrac-tive.”

“All my life, I’ve endured being told that I’m good for nothing by people and I’ve accepted this. No one has ever told me I’m beautiful before, so it’s ha-rd to believe you.” I confess to him.

He gr-abs my face with both of his hands and its seconds later that I feel hisl-ips brush upon mine.

“Believe me. You are breathtaking.” He k!sses me chastely.

When he is convinced that I have somehow accepted it, he turns back to the fridge and I hear him ravaging throu-gh bottles.

“Okay, we’ll have salad and maybe ice cream after.” He closes the door and in his hands he holds a wra-pped bowl of salad.

“Ice-cream?” I ask in disbelief.
The last time I had ice cream had been probably on my eighteenth birthday when I treated myself to one and that was ten months ago.

“Yes.” He sm-irks as he places the bowl on the counter and then he proceeds by pushing the drawer just un-der the counter. I’m dumb struck as I watch it open automatically.
So that’s why they don’t have handles.

He takes out two plates and un-wra-pping the tinfoil off the bowl, he starts serving.

The salad itself looks delicious with its mixture of prawn pasta along with easy light vegetables. My stomach growls inwardly.

“Dig in.” He pas-ses me a plate.
He sits next to me, effectively rotating the swing stool towards me so that his expo-sed leg from the bathrobe t©uçhes mine. My leg heats up at the contact.

I take the fork he offers me and begin on the salad, but just before I put the fork in my mouth, he st©ps me.

“Wait. Close your eyes.” He orders.

I do. I then feel his hands on mine as he takes the fork I’m holding.

“Open your mouth.”
I open my mouth and he feeds me the salad.

“Chew. Slowly.” His voice has now become s-en-sual and dark.

My heart lurches at the sudden change of his tone.

I chew tentatively and the flavours bur-st in my mouth. I m0@n suddenly not from the food but from Jeremy’s skilful hands drawing circles upon my th!gh.

The tingles that surge there ignite my blood and I revel in the taste of the salad along with the feel of these s-en-sations running throu-gh me.
“Ever heard of the saying ‘the food tastes Orgasmic’?” I open my eyes at his dark words.
I blus-h as I nod.

He sm-irks. “Eat.” He gives me the fork back.

I watch as he takes a fork of salad in his mouth all the while his eyes never leave my own. I blus-h and shifting my gaze away from his I stare at my plate.

I feel his eyes burning a holes on my face, but I try my best to ignore him as I eat.

However it’s within minutes that I find myself looking back at him throu-gh my eyelashes. He has finished his salad and now has one elbow leaning against the counter with his face c0cked on it whilst his other arm rests on his l@p, his f!ngersthrumming on his th!gh.
I swallow the intensity I feel at the moment as I finish my last fork. When I’m done I glance back at him.

The silence is unnerving as we both gaze heatedly at each other.

“You done?”
I nod.

“Good.” He says as he takes both my plate and his to the dish washer and then after he returns the left over salad back to the fridge.

Upon returning to the counter island he holds out a tub of Ben & Jerry’s finest ice cream.

“Let’s go.” He holds out his hands for me.

I frown at him. “Aren’t we eating here?” I ask.

“I have a better idea.”
We journey away back to his master be-droom and when we get there Jeremy directly heads for the bathroom, leaving me standing awkwardly in middle of the room. Within minutes I hear the bath running and him sauntering back to his master be-droom.

Out of nowhere he produces a remote control, presses it and then the whole room bask in music. At first I hear the harmony of instruments filling the song before a soulful voice of man sings about keeping me safe.

“It’s beautiful.” I tell him.

“I know.” He holds out his hand for me to take and then drags me to the bathroom.

The aroma of coconut mixed lavender fills the whole bathroom. The scent is emitting specifically from the bath tub that is suited right in the middle of the room.

The whole bathroom is spacious, painted in a blue colour which matches the dark blue marble counter which holds two sinks that are facing a full length mirror. It even has a hvge walk-in shower and … cu-pboards?

What kind of bathroom has cu-pboards?

My thoughts are distracted when I feel Jeremy tug on the ti-ght note from my bathrobe sash. I look up at him and his eyes are molten blue with a slight tint of gray in them.

“str!p.” He orders me as he li-cks his lowerl-ip.

It’s his ton-gue on hisl-ips that results in a hitch of my breath. Suddenly, the steam from the h0t water makes its way inside my alre-ady heated b©dy.

I do as I’m told as I slowly let the bathrobe slide of my shoulders, down my w@!st and eventually off my feet.

I hear his sharp intake of breath and as I look at him now, his eyes are dark with lvst.
I watch him move as he places the ice cream along with the spoon on t©p of the marble counter near the bath tub. And then he quic-kly frees himself off his robe giving me a full view of his back.

I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of admiring his perfectly toned b©dy, the rigid broad shoulders and the taut muscles which align his whole back. Moving down I suddenly squirm as I feel myself getting we-t when I catch sight of his bu-tt. I can only imagine squee-zing the cheeks as he makes love to me.

I swallow and forcibly shake the thoughts away as I watch him get in the bath. He turns to face me and my eyes instantly glue of his throbbing erection. I blus-h as I glance at his face.
“Come here,” he sm-irks knowingly as he motions which his f!ngers.