Claiming His Virgin In the Ring: The Filthy Wrestling Club

by Cassandra Dee

  “That’s right,” I ground out, stroking those chestnut curls. “That’s right, do as Daddy says and it’s so much better when it comes.”

  But Rachel wasn’t having it. She turned that delicate chin away, refusing to make eye contact even though we were smashed up against one another.

  “You can’t do this Donovan,” she whispered raggedly. “You can’t do this to me, I won’t let you.”

  I rumbled, this time lowering my head to trail kisses along her neck.

  “Naw little girl, Daddy does what he wants,” I rasped. “Haven’t you realized that?” I licked along that swan-like curve, a big hand reaching up to cup a pendulous boob, squeezing firmly, making her inhale involuntarily. But at that moment my hand stopped because something was off. A hot drop of liquid had just hit my fist and to my horror, I realized Rachel was crying.

  “What?” I ground out, heart beating so fast in my chest, it almost exploded. “Tell me little girl,” I rasped. “Tell me.”

  But she still wouldn’t look at me.

  “I won’t let you do this to me,” she shook her head again stubbornly, even if her voice came out in a painful whisper. “I won’t.”

  And at that, I knew it was on me. I’d burst in like a fucking bear, I’d literally wrecked her front door, barreling in like she was mine. And the thing is that the female did belong to me, but she just didn’t know it yet, and I had to explain.

  “Baby girl,” I began, voice hoarse in my chest. “I know I didn’t do right by you.”

  At that, her chin flew around, brown eyes blazing.

  “You think?” she exclaimed, tears still running down those sweet cheeks. “You think?”

  I bowed my head against her shoulder, inhaling that female scent. But fuck, this was no time for distraction, I had to let her see the real me.

  “Baby girl,” I began again. “I was a complete asshole, a total fuckwad. I deserted you at the Club, and you didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve to come home and find me gone. It was wrong, I acknowledge that.”

  Rachel didn’t answer, eyes looking off at a fixed point even if her chin trembled. So I went on.

  “Rach,” I began again slowly, still holding her close. “I’m fucked up in so many ways. I’ve been owning female bodies for more than thirty years now,” I ground out, nodding at her incredulous look. “Yeah, a forty-five year older fucker like me gets started early, and it’s been decades,” I acknowledged, taking a deep breath. “But that’s not the point. The point is that you deserve better, and I want to be that better. I want to be that better man, I want to leave the anonymous fucks behind, there’s no need for strange pussy or casual encounters in dark parks, because shit, I want you, you’re everything to me.”

  But she turned to look at me then, eyes blazing.

  “Oh really?” she bit out. “Then why did you ditch me the way you did? Why didn’t at least say goodbye?”

  I took a deep breath, closing my eyes for a moment. But this was no time to be a coward, I had to tell her the truth.

  “Old habits die hard, sweetheart, and I’m an old dog. Like I said, I’ve been fucking women for thirty years now, and that’s how I roll. How I used to roll,” I corrected, a rumble coming out of my throat.

  She shot me another disbelieving look.

  “Oh yeah?” the brunette asked, voice sharp. “So what’s changed? And why the hell did you do what you did?”

  I took another deep breath, thoughts roiling.

  “The thing is,” I began slowly. “I thought you were like the others. I thought that you were just another girl, another warm body to use and discard. But I was wrong,” I added quickly, begging her silently to understand. “I was absolutely wrong.”

  The brunette still didn’t answer, looking away, standing stiffly in my arms. Oh shit, oh shit, it wasn’t working. My best efforts weren’t working, so I doubled down, rushing ahead.

  “The thing is, I didn’t know how good I had it,” I continued quickly, my words running into each other. Holy shit, was this really Donovan Jones, asshole extraordinaire, tripping over himself to explain things to a girl? Was I so desperate, my heart gone, tripping over my feet to make things right with a woman?

  But the thing is, it was true. If Rachel didn’t believe me, if she didn’t forgive me, I had no idea what the hell I was going to do. There’s only one sweet brunette who can make me cream the way she does, only one girl who’s as delicious, as charming, as effortlessly innocent and curious about the world. I was head over heels, and shit, but all my defenses dissolved then, all my old habits forgotten because this girl was my life, what I needed to survive.

  So I rushed on ahead.

  “The thing is,” I began again, deep voice somewhat raspy with pent-up emotion. “The thing is,” I cleared my throat again, “that I thought I needed danger in my life, you know, with the anonymous fucks and all, meeting strange women on-line. And I didn’t realize that I had all that with you, that you’re more dangerous to me than some random chick.”

  “Oh really, you didn’t realize?” she asked sarcastically, swinging disbelieving eyes to me. “All those times we met in random places, me bent over baring my pussy, when you couldn’t even see my face? That wasn’t dangerous to you?”

  I shook my head.

  “Naw, not really honey. A woman’s pussy is the most beautiful part of her body, and I’d risk my life to taste yours, to touch that twat again.” Oh shit, I was getting away from myself already, dick already ramrod hard from the female’s proximity. But there were words to be said and I had to get them out before losing control, before I got deep in that pulsing snatch.

  “You see,” I began again. “You’re dangerous to me because never, and I mean never, have I not used protection. With other women, I always play it safe, I’ve got two condoms going, I pull out, I do everything to make sure that the girl doesn’t get a deposit of raw sperm.”

  That made her turn to look at me with incredulous eyes.

  “I don’t believe it,” she said flatly. “You’ve been seeding me from Day One, coming in all my secret spaces. I don’t believe it.”

  I growled impatiently.

  “Believe it sweetheart,” I ground out with a threatening tone to my voice. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever come in, the only one with my cum trailing from all your holes, gulping it up and swallowing. I don’t share,” I ground out hotly. “This shit is precious and no one gets it but you.”

  Rachel still wasn’t persuaded.

  “Then what happened?” she challenged, the tilt of her chin defiant. “What happened to make me different? Why am I different?”

  I took another deep breath, preparing myself. But the thing is that the truth was so obvious and so non-obvious all at once, that there was no sense in speaking in anything but real words. So I went for it.

  “The difference is that I fell in love with you,” I rumbled, eyes blazing as they met her. “Maybe at first, it was just casual, but as we got to know one another, I fell in love and it felt right,” I added tensely. “It felt right for you to take my sperm, it felt right for you to drink it, to feel it deep inside, to spray repeatedly in that beautiful cunt. It felt right, and it is right,” I growled insistently. “There’s only one sweet pussy who gets it, and that’s yours.”

  The brunette was silent then.

  “So that’s dangerous to you?” she asked. “Seeding me with your semen?”

  I pulled away from her for a moment, looking at her hard.

  “Of course,” I ground out. “Didn’t you hear me? I haven’t played it fast and loose with any other woman over the course of thirty years. You, baby girl, have gotten all the goodness, all the male jism that you need, and sweetheart, I have plenty more.”

  But Rachel frowned then.

  “So the danger is that you didn’t use birth control with me, whereas you did with other women?” she asked slowly. “It wasn’t that you fell in love with me?”

  I huffed impatiently. God, what is it w
ith women? What is it with words and special phrasings and complicated sentences, all of it impossible to disentangle?

  “No of course, I love you,” I reaffirmed, eyes intent. “That’s part of what’s new because in thirty years, baby, I’ve never fallen in love. Sure, I’ve fucked, I’ve drilled, hell, I’ve even dated. But love? Naw, never.”

  The brunette turned her face away.

  “I see,” was all Rachel said. “I see.”

  I wanted to shake that curvy frame, to take those shoulders and rattle the female until her teeth chattered.

  “What’s wrong?” I ground out. “Spit it out sweetheart.”

  Those brown eyes turned to look at me then, impossibly beautiful, wide and pained.

  “Well, I guess, it’s just not what I was hoping to hear,” she began.

  Not what she was hoping to hear? A billionaire alpha has just confessed his love for you, and that’s not what you’re hoping to hear? What the fuck? Did she want my soul, my brain, my liver, and kidneys too? Hell, take it all.

  “Well what do you want then, sweetheart?”

  The brunette bit her lip for a moment.

  “I guess I just want to hear that it’s real,” she said. “None of this ‘I’m getting over bad habits,’ ‘I have a thing for anonymous fucks,’ and ‘You’re so lucky that I never used birth control with you.’ I just want to hear what every woman does,” she shrugged, looking off into the corner. “You know, that this is real, that you’re coming to me with an open heart.”

  I goggled at her, eyes practically crossing. I mean, what the fuck, hadn’t I just bared my soul? Hadn’t I just done all that? What the hell, did she want me to walk on coals with bare feet before she’d believe? And reading my mind, Rachel sighed then.

  “The thing is, Donovan,” she said quietly. “You make it sound like I’m so lucky to have you. That you were looking for something else entirely, that you actually want sleek, slinky girls with no faces, and it’s only by some random stroke of luck that I landed you. That your ‘regular self’ still prefers strange pussy, still prefers going on-line to meet your desires.”

  I cut her off then.

  “I haven’t been on-line since I met you,” I bit out harshly. “That profile might be deactivated for all I know.”

  “I know,” the brunette nodded softly. “Me too. I haven’t been on Discreet Encounters since I met you either. But this is just weird, don’t you get it? You’ve been a tomcat for thirty years, and what’s the likelihood that I’ve really changed you, so to say? How could two weeks with me suddenly reform Donovan Jones, renowned asshole and international playboy?”

  That stopped me short. The little girl was smart, much more than I gave her credit for, and her insights only made my chest swell with pride. Because Rachel was no pushover. Even if she was eighteen, the brunette wasn’t some airhead who’d believe anything and everything she was told. My baby has a brain on those shoulders, and it’s a big brain too, one that’s intelligent, with a nuanced understanding of tricky situations. So inhaling deeply, I turned her chin towards mine, looking into the big browns, seizing them with my deep blue.

  “Honey, I can’t prove it, you’re right,” I ground out insistently. Shit, so much rode on this, I had to persuade the female to give me another chance, to at least keep the door open and not slam it shut. “I can’t prove anything, not right now, right here,” I acknowledged. “But with time, you’ll see. I’m a changed man, and baby, you did that to me. Everything about you has changed me,” I said, my voice almost breaking with need. “And I want it this way. I want to be a better man, a new man, just for you. The old Donovan was an asshole sure, and the new Donovan will probably still be an asshole. But honey, I’m your asshole. I’m yours, if you want it,” I said again, chest tight, eyes intense. “Just let me try, baby, let me try.”

  The female cocked her head at me, that sweet pout so close and yet so far. Oh god, what if Rachel said no? What if Rachel was one and done already, and I was too late?

  But instead, she nodded somberly, just a small gesture with her chin.

  “Okay,” the brunette said softly, the sweet breeze of her breath like the most fragrant perfume. “Okay, we’ll try. Together.”

  And with that, I swept her into my arms, her curvy form pressed close to my broad chest. Because that was all I needed to hear. Despite my garbled explanation that didn’t come out too good, despite the fact that I’d been condescending even as I desperately wanted to win her over, it had worked. The brunette was giving me another chance to catch the brass ring. And as an alpha who capitalizes on every opportunity? I was gonna make the woman mine … for keeps.

  EPILOGUE

  Rachel

  “Oh,” I moaned lustily, creaming around his fingers. “Oh, oh.”

  Because Donovan and I were re-living our first encounter. Oh yeah, we were in a public place, the opera this time, and Donovan was touching me from behind, slowly stroking my wet folds before worming his fingers into my vaginal passage.

  “Unnh!” I shrieked. “Unnh!”

  “Shhh,” he rasped behind me. “We don’t want to ruin the performance for our fellow concertgoers.”

  And fortunately, the soprano’s voice rose right then to cover my ecstatic shrieks, the cries that I couldn’t help but let out. I almost keeled over, but the ledge saved me, hands gripping with white knuckles, shivering with ecstasy.

  Because oh yeah, the Billionaires Club keeps a box at the opera, one for members to use whenever they want. And right now, Donovan and I were dressed in formalwear, my alpha impossibly handsome in a tux, that huge form dark and imposing, the perfectly-cut material emphasizing his broad shoulders and long legs.

  And I was clad in an evening gown to match, a perfectly normal, sexy red column with a sweetheart neckline and a slit up one leg. But oh yeah, that slit. What the rest of the audience couldn’t see was how Donovan worked that thigh high slit because what seemed reasonable when I was standing up gave my lover perfect access to my pussy in the confines of the box. Oh yeah, he had that slit pulled open all the way to my waist, the folds of the fabric obscenely draped around my hips as those fingers pushed hotly into my vaginal canal.

  “Unnh god!” I moaned again, head dropping just as the music crescendoed, boobs almost popping out my cleavage. Oh fuck, it felt so good and I didn’t even care if I gave the audience an eyeful of breastflesh now, I was beyond the point of no return, absolutely soaring in heaven. “Ohhh!”

  But Donovan chuckled nastily.

  “Naw baby girl, I’ve only got three fingers in, and we agreed fisting this time, remember? So open wider sweetheart, Daddy’s still got two digits to go.”

  And my entire body shivered with his words, cream running from my hole, literally gushing around his hand. Because this is the new “us.” Donovan wants danger in his life, I get it, and somehow, some way, I am the embodiment of that danger. The difference is that the alpha’s got a partner now, and the danger runs ten times deeper, ten times more hazardous. Because no, Donovan still never uses protection, he’s still creaming into me again and again, giving me multiple doses of that semen. But it’s different this time, because I’m on board and aware.

  And our adventure at the opera is just another example of our joint quest for danger. Because yeah, fingerfucking in public is too tame now, Donovan made me promise to let him fist me, to stuff his entire hand into my pussy in plain sight of other audience members.

  “I don’t get it,” I’d gasped, brown eyes wide as I stared at him. We’d been discussing it on the couch in the Avalon, Donovan having moved me out of my old, worn-down shack within twenty-four hours.

  “Don’t get what?” he drawled lazily, one big finger trailing against my nether lips, making me shiver involuntarily. “You think this pussy can’t stretch?”

  I shook my head disbelievingly.

  “I mean it can Daddy, it can, but your entire hand? All five fingers, plus your palm? And your hand’s big too,” I whispered pointedly, look
ing down at where his fingers grazed my twat.

  Donovan chuckled deep in his chest, male form hard and tense, immense ridge already evident within his trousers, tenting them like a flagstaff. Oh god, I wanted to suck, but even more, I wanted to feel. But Donovan wanted me a certain way, and I was gonna get it.

  “Trust me baby, you can do it,” he rasped throatily, gazing at my bare pussy hungrily. “And Daddy will help you through the exercise, Daddy will absolutely get you so hot that you thank me afterwards, this little pussy will drip buckets of lust.”

  And now here, at the opera, my lover was true to his words. Because as I parted my thighs wider, he slipped another finger into my pussy, four now in total, prying me open, and making me feel oh-so-full.

  “Oh god Daddy,” I moaned, throwing my head back, reaching forward to stroke the ridge of that fat cock through his pants. “Oh god.”

  Donovan’s eyes were such an intense blue that I could see them even in the dark of the theater. But he pushed my hand away because this time was all about me, and my lover was gonna bring me to a shattering finish, audience and music be damned.

  “Almost there,” he rumbled soothingly, that blazing blue gaze never leaving my secret flesh. “Almost there.”

  And with one more twist of his wrist, a clever jerk and then a deep slide, it happened. Donovan slipped all five fingers in, the stretch incredible, my pussy so fucked. I looked down with shock, almost unable to breathe. It was so obscene, so unbelievably disgusting, and yet so good. Because only Donovan’s wrist protruded from my vaginal hole, creamy thighs spread wide. There was so much pussy juice, so much female nectar that his arm was absolutely drenched, rivulets dripping off onto the floor.

  “Oh fuck yeah,” he groaned, moving his fingers experimentally in me. “Oh fuck yeah.”

  I mewled helplessly then, throwing my head back. Oh god, was this really happening? This was danger personified, shit, I didn’t know how we could get more risky than this. Because if someone noticed, how could he pull his fingers out in time? The alpha was stuck so far in my body that it would take at least twenty minutes just to exit the way he’d come, finger by finger, slowly pulling out of my puss.