Dirty Little Virgin: A Submissives’ Secrets Novel

by Michelle Love

  He pushed her back gently onto the floor and moved his body over hers, pushing down her pants. Kissing her tenderly, his hand slipped between her legs, seeking out the silky, damp warmth of her, his thumb brushing over the sensitive nub of her clit. She shivered with pleasure, her own hands under the waistband of his sweatpants, running the fingertips of both hands up and down the length of his cock.

  ‘God that feels good,’ he moaned, burying his face in her hair and feeling her soft laugh vibrate through her body.

  Under her touch his cock became almost unbearably hard, her little fingers sliding up and down it, circling the tip, cupping his sac, massaging the sensitive spot between his balls and his anus.

  ‘Just let me touch you for a moment, ease your stress,’ she whispered, and he nodded his acquiescence.

  ‘As long as I can look at you…’ He pushed her t-shirt up, and she quickly removed it, kicking away her pants before sliding her hands back onto him. Her caresses were feather-light, sending waves and waves of pleasure through him. He gazed down at her, wanting to memorize every inch of honey gold skin, the faint pink blush on her cheeks, and the sheen of moisture from the heat, from her arousal. Her full breasts, ripe as fresh peaches, moved up and down as her breathing became ragged. He slipped two fingers into the velvety softness of her sex, moving them slowly in and out, as he fastened his mouth over one of her nipples, feeling it harden and pucker as his tongue flicked around it. He drew the tip of it out as he sucked gently, felt her touch on his cock grow stronger, stroking, tugging as it grew bigger, stiffening almost painfully. Her sex was sodden now, slippery with her arousal and with just a glance between them, he knew she wanted him inside her. His cock was so hard it was bobbing under its own heavy weight as he lined it up, sliding the tip up and down her slit. He pushed into her, and she gasped at the quick pain as her sex stretched out, enveloping the silky length of him. They moved slowly, almost dreamlike, rocking their hips together, their eyes soft and locked on the other’s. Sam stroked her belly, feeling it tremble under his touch, hearing her deep sighs of pleasure. Isa smoothed his short dark curls, tracing a line down to his cheek, drawing a pattern between the freckles and moles on his skin, to trace the outline of his lips.

  ‘Do you have any idea…,’ she whispered softly, ‘…how staggeringly gorgeous you are?’

  Sam smiled down at her. ‘As long as you think so, that’s all I care about.’ He started to thrust harder, and she grinned, gasping her excitement. The sound thrilled him. ‘Tell me what you want me to do to you, my beautiful Isabel.’

  ‘Fuck me, Sam, fuck me until I lose control…’ And she cried out as he began to slam into her with all of his great strength, pinning her arms down with his, grinding his lips onto hers, tasting blood as her teeth caught her lip. She kissed him back with a fevered longing, her tongue caressing his, her mouth greedy now, wanting to taste him. His fingers were clamped into his hard buttocks, her fingernails digging into him, wanting to push him deeper, faster. The feel of her belly against his, the softness of her was driving him crazy; her breasts pressed into him as her body bucked and writhed beneath him.

  ‘God, Sam… …’ Isa’s eyes fluttered shut, and her cheeks burst with color as she reached orgasm and he felt her body shudder violently. He groaned as he came, his body jerking with the force of his semen pumping into her over and over.

  They collapsed together, a mass of tangled limbs, sweat, and their still-connected bodies heaving as they caught their breath.

  They lay there for long minutes wrapped in each other, drunk on each other. Sam couldn’t stop kissing her, his tongue delving into her open mouth, his teeth nipping gently at her lower lip. He felt delirious with love.

  ‘Tell me what you like.’

  She smiled, her eyes closed, enjoying his lips on her. ‘I like your cock deep inside me.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Your mouth on me, on my lips, my tits, my belly, the way your tongue feels deep inside me, your teeth on my clit.’

  Her words were making him hard again, swelling inside her sex. He trailed his lips along her jawbone.

  ‘More.’

  ‘I love the feel of your skin against mine, the way you look at me when you’re coming, the way you make me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.’

  ‘You are the most beautiful woman in the world.’ He growled, and she chuckled.

  ‘You’re biased. But I love you for it.’

  ‘Tell me…’

  ‘I love the way your hips feel when they’re slamming into me, your cock ramming me so hard I can’t grasp any coherent thought except God I want you. I love the way you taste; I love going down on you, filling my mouth with your incredible cock, sucking you dry until you’re helpless under my touch.’

  Sam smiled then, his eyes sleepy with arousal. ‘I’m helpless whenever you’re in the room, clothes or not.’

  Isa grinned. ’Right back at cha, big boy. I love the size of you, not just your cock but you. The way your shoulders are almost as wide as I am tall, your solid chest, your arms. I feel so safe in your arms, so loved, so… where I belong. Your gorgeous face, your smile, your sense of humor. Samuel Levy, you were made from my dreams.’

  He felt his cock thicken ever more and he began to move, to glide in and out of her again. Isa smiled up at him wickedly.

  ‘And I love it when you nail me to the fucking floor.’

  They both laughed, as with a growing frenzy, he did just that for the rest of the night.

  He frowned. The girl – who he’d named Isabel Two – was still unconscious. Maybe he’d been too heavy with his beating this time. But when he’d got back to the motel, she had been screaming for help, hoping against hope that anyone would hear her in this remote, rundown cockroach hellhole.

  He’d tied her too well to the chair, the duct tape made her hands swell and grow purplish. He’d stripped her to her underwear and made her bathe and wash out her clothes. He had no desire to fuck her, was, in fact, growing tired of her. She may have looked like Isabel but there the resemblance ended. This girl was whiny, ill-educated, and shallow. He sighed. He’d get no pleasure from killing her; the most he could hope for was to gag her and keep up the pretense that she was Isabel.

  The girl moaned, and he looked up to see her head as it rolled around for a few seconds before she looked up, her eyes heavy with the drugs he’d given her, the concussion from when he’d slapped her so viciously on hearing her cries for help.

  He hadn’t gagged her again yet, wanted to amuse himself with her, and so now he sat in front of the chair, a slight smirk on his face. She focused on him, tears springing up into her eyes.

  ‘Why are you doing this to me?’

  He shifted his weight, pretended to consider her question. ‘Well, Isabel Two, it’s not really you I’m doing this to. It’s your namesake. You just happen to be the vessel I’m going to use to communicate my desires to her.’

  The girl looked confused. ‘My name is Sadie, not Isabel, and what the fuck are you talking about?’

  He grinned widely. ‘I’m going to use your body to illustrate how I’m going to kill her.’

  The girl quelled. ‘Why?’

  ‘To scare her. To make her cower in fear. To torture her. Don’t worry…’ and he brought his knife out to show her and she whimpered with fear. He ran the tip of it from her throat down her body till it rested in her navel. ‘It won’t be long now. I’m afraid it will be painful but that can’t be helped.’

  ‘You’re a sick fuck.’ She spat the words out at him, and he felt a flood of rage pulse through him. He stood and shoved a rag into her mouth, winding a strip of duct tape around her head to keep it in place.

  ‘Maybe so,’ he growled at her, ‘…but at least I’ll be remembered.’

  The girl choked on the rag, and he wondered if he should let her suffocate, ease her death. No, that wouldn’t do. He had to get her to the island and kill her there. It would be harder to move a dead body, and besides, he
wanted the spectacle, the horror of the massacre.

  He wanted the blood.

  Isa stroked the paint onto the canvas, enjoying the sight of the bright pop of color. Sam watched her, fascinated. She smiled up at him as they sat in her studio, the windows flung open, the doors wide, and the sensual sounds of the oceans drifting into the room. The heat was drowsy, sultry in the late afternoon. Isa was working on a small canvas she balanced on her lap, one hand in Sam’s, the other holding the paintbrush.

  ‘Can you work okay like that?’

  She nodded, smiling. ‘I’m just dabbling. I’d rather have my hand in yours than not.’

  He leaned over to kiss her. ‘I could watch you paint all day.’

  The side of her mouth jerked up in a grin. ‘I’ll paint pictures on your body and ride you at the same time.’

  Sam laughed aloud. ‘Such a dirty girl. I’m clearly a bad influence.’

  ‘Only you.’

  He nodded, in mock-shame. Isa touched the tip of her paintbrush to his nose.

  ‘So… let’s talk about our, um, histories.’

  He knew what she meant immediately. ‘You first.’

  Isa nodded. ‘Okay then, although there’s not much to tell. Cashed in my v-card at college to a guy whose name I can’t remember. I admit,’ and she grinned sheepishly, ‘I was hammered at the time, so I can’t tell you what it was like.’

  Sam grimaced. ‘I’m okay with not knowing.’

  She sniggered. ‘After that, I’ve only really had two other boyfriends. Leo, who I met at a coffee house on one of the San Juan Islands. He’s a sweet guy, an investment banker, so we really didn’t have much in common. We were really like friends with benefits and one day we just decided to end things. All very amicable and we still email occasionally.’ She shot Sam a look under her lashes, to see if he would react to that, but he just smiled. Isa gave a little sigh of relief. ‘He’s married now, with about seventeen kids.’

  Sam laughed, nodded. ‘I’ll bet. So the other one must be… Karl?’

  There was an edge to his voice now, and Isa squeezed his hand. ‘Don’t get hung up on Karl. I think I told you he’s a graphic artist, yes?’

  Sam gave a tight nod, his mouth a hard line, but said nothing. Isa sighed.

  ‘We met in an art supplies store. Again, we didn’t date for that long, but he got attached. My heart wasn’t it in it, so I ended things. The trouble was, I picked the worse day to do it, and he got physical. Just once, mind, but once is enough. He was devastated, could not apologize enough. Not that it’s any kind of excuse, but it’s a big leap from a one-time offender who was drunk the day he was dumped, to a psychotic stalker. It’s not Karl.’

  ‘You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself as well as me.’

  Isa considered. ‘I don’t think so. I keep going over in my head all the possibilities of it being Karl – and no, I won’t believe it’s him until I’m proved wrong. Or not.’

  She could feel Sam studying her, and met his gaze steadily. Finally, he gave a brief nod, and she relaxed.

  ‘Anyways…’ She hinted and laughed as he rolled his eyes. ‘Come on, your turn, spill.’

  Sam’s hand tightened on hers. ‘I never really formed any big attachments, too busy building my portfolio, dealing with my dad’s affairs when he died, getting Cal through college.’

  She flicked water at him. ‘Avoiding.’

  ‘Am not. Okay. My college sweetheart was Mary-Lou…’

  ‘You’re kidding me with that name.’

  Sam laughed. ‘You caught me. Okay, in college I dated a bit, never really getting too heavily involved as I say. I suppose the longest I dated someone was Jeanne for a couple of months. She was very political, incredibly driven, and not much of a sense of humor.’

  ‘Good in bed?’

  ‘Not answering that.’

  ‘So yes, then.’ She grinned at him to let him know she was joking.

  He smirked but ignored her. ‘Anyway, we broke up when she went off to… somewhere to protest something, I don’t know…’

  ‘Hurry it up.’

  ‘Impatient wench. I dated Britt for a while, she’s a photographer, then Lauren. No-one special. No-one like you. You are the only woman I’ve ever loved.’

  Tingles of pleasure made her face glow, and she grinned. ‘Glad to hear it. ‘

  He took the brush and canvas from her and put them carefully on the workbench, then pulled her onto his lap. ‘You,’ he said, nibbling her ear lobe, trailing kisses down her neck, ‘…are my entire reason for being.’

  Isa leaned into him, shutting her eyes, not wanting to ruin the moment, ask him the question that had been nagging at her for weeks. ‘No other artists then? Seems like, in your business, it’s a target-rich environment.’

  ‘One or two, maybe, no-one special.’ But she caught his hesitation, and her heart skipped a beat.

  ‘Casey Hamilton?’

  Again he hesitated. ‘Who?’

  Isa sighed and pushed away from him. There was confusion in his eyes, and she gave him a weak smile, not meeting his eyes.

  ‘Come, let’s get something to eat.’

  She walked in front of him to the kitchen, trying not to let the lump in her chest overwhelm her, cause hot tears to flood down her cheeks. He was lying to her; she believed it with all heart. Sam knew Casey Hamilton; she would bet her life on it, and intimately too; it was the only way she could explain the other woman’s behavior and Sam’s complete denial. So why did he deny it? She couldn’t, wouldn’t believe he was still seeing her. She ignored the ripping pain that thought conjured. Isa gritted her teeth. If he wouldn’t tell her then, she knew who to talk to about it. She knew who would help her figure this out.

  Casey Hamilton smirked at she looked at the caller i.d. on her phone. ‘What the fuck do you want?’

  ‘Careful with your tone, Casey.’

  She sighed. ‘Look, I’m sick of this. Tell me what you want, or I’ll go to them, tell them everything.’

  There was silence. ‘And risk a bullet in the head?’

  She laughed, a mirthless sound. ‘I thought you were going to cut my throat, you sick animal?’

  ‘You don’t deserve a slow death.’

  She shivered. ‘Look, what…?’

  ‘It’s time.’

  She let out a long hiss of breath. ‘Fine.’

  ‘Good girl. You’ll get your money soon enough.’

  She could hear he was about to hang up. ‘Wait?’

  ‘What is it, Cassandra?’

  The way he said her name sent a thrill through her. ‘When you kill her… when you stab that bitch to death… will it be slow? Will it be painful?’ Her voice had dropped to a seductive purr.

  He gave a low chuckle. ‘It will be unimaginable.’

  There was a tension between them for the rest of the afternoon, and now, as they cleared their plates from a light supper, Sam put his hand on her bare back.

  ‘What is it, sweetheart? You’ve been quiet since we talked.’

  She shook her head. She had argued with herself all afternoon but now she was tired, and she didn’t want that idiotic woman coming between them, ruining their idyllic time on this island. ‘It’s nothing, just thinking about… stuff.’ She slid her arms around his waist and looked up at him. ‘Let’s go sit out on the beach.’

  He held her hand as they walked to the ocean’s edge, sitting, so the water lapped at their bare feet. He settled her in the crook of his arm as she rested her head on his shoulder. They in companionable silence for a while.

  She felt his lips press against her temple and sighed. ‘I wish we didn’t have to go home.’ The thought slipped out before she could stop it. He rested his cheek on the top of her head.

  ‘We can stay as long as you want.’

  ‘I know but, realistically, we have to go back and sort out this mess. Find this idiot who’s threatening me. Us. Because, Sam…’ and she pulled away so she could look into his eyes. ‘The pregnancy,
however, unplanned, well, it did happen, could happen again, and when, and if we’re ready to bring our child into this world, I don’t want this hanging over us. Even without children, I won’t feel we can move on; I’ll always be looking over my shoulder.’

  Sam nodded. ‘I agree and we will, I’ll use every resource at my disposal to find him, I promise. It just may mean you – us – taking more precautions. Restrictions.’

  She blew out her cheeks. ‘As much as I hate to admit, I know you’re right. I just couldn’t bear it if I was carrying your child and something happened. That’s worse than dying.’

  Sam shuddered, and she regretted her words. ‘Sorry, baby.’

  There was a long silence where Sam just took her left hand, traced a line around where a wedding ring would go. ‘We never discussed… you want kids?’

  She smiled, leaned over to kiss him. ‘Yours? Yes, of course. At the same time, if you’re not keen, then…’

  ‘I do. I want to have children with you.’

  She felt tears spring into her eyes – God, she was so emotional lately. ‘Then we will. Just not yet.’

  He smiled and hugged her. ‘Deal. Let’s just enjoy what we have now?’

  She felt his phone vibrate in his shirt pocket. ‘Thought you turned that off, big guy?’

  ‘Sorry.’ He pulled it out and glanced at the screen, his expression darkening. ‘Shit.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Nine-one-one from Cal. I have to call him back.’ His smile was apologetic.

  She scrambled to her feet, held out her hand. ‘Let’s go back to the house; I can give you some privacy there.’

  She left him in the living room and went back to her studio, shutting the door behind her. The day had left her feeling oddly bruised. Maybe it was the thought of going back to Seattle. She hated feeling like this, she loved her home city with a passion, thought it the greatest place in the world. Except maybe this island, she considered with a grin. She could really get used to the solitude and safety of this place. She marveled how much her life had changed in such a short time. Ten years from virtually homeless to a luxury island. She chuckled to herself. Don’t get too smug.