Chapter 4 Claimed Her

Christian I was losing control. I gritted my teeth, gripping the edge of the tub, my muscles straining as I fought against the heat coursing through my body. My mind screamed at me to walk away, to leave the bathroom, but my body refused to listen. The drug had done its job too well, amplifying everything—every sound, every movement, every single breath she took. And she wasn’t stopping. The girl was still there, still touching herself, still lost in her own pleasure. Her fingers slid over her folds, her breath coming out in small, desperate gasps. My entire body tensed at the sight, the way her back arched against the cold tiles, the way her thighs trembled. She was too young. I wonder who drugged an 18-year-old girl. This must be an act of wickedness. That realization should have been enough to break the trance, but instead, it only made my frustration worse. I stepped out of the tub and headed into the shower. I stood in front of her, my own dick already dripping with pre-cum. I dragged a hand through my wet hair, cursing under my breath. “How old are you?” My voice was rough, almost unrecognizable. Her hazy eyes met mine, her lips parting as she whispered, “It’s my 18th birthday today.” I exhaled sharply, my fists clenching. Fuck! I turned away from her immediately, dragging myself out of the shower and walking out of the bathroom without another glance. I didn’t trust myself. Not when my body was betraying me like this. She is just 18. I moved straight to the bedroom, my chest rising and falling in frustration. My entire body was strung tight, aching, demanding relief. But I can't, no. I could still hear her moaning, but I ignored her moans. I needed to get this out of my system, but not with her. Slipping onto the bed, I leaned back against the headboard, my hand fisting around myself, stroking with rough, frustrated movements. My groans echoed in the quiet suite, the heat inside me refusing to die down. But then, movement caught my eye as I continued to stroke myself. She had followed me. She was standing by the couch, her legs parting, her hand slipping down between her thighs once again. Jesus Christ. A low growl rumbled in my chest as I turned my head away, trying to focus on anything else. But it was impossible. I could hear her soft moans, the way her breath stuttered, the way her fingers moved. I forced myself up, walking straight to the balcony, gripping the railing as I tried to erase everything I had just seen. I needed to breathe. To calm down because I was so fucked. But I couldn’t. The image of her—bare, trembling, and flushed from head to toe—was seared into my mind. Fuck! I ran a hand down my face, inhaling deeply, but it was useless. And then, when I stepped back inside, I saw her again. She was no longer on the couch. She was on the bed, shifting against the sheets, her hips moving, trying to rub against the mattress for friction. Fuck! I had held back long enough. In two strides, I was at the bed, towering over her, my breathing heavy, my patience completely shattered. She looked up at me, her eyes glazed over, lost in whatever was still running through her system. I clenched my jaw. I shouldn’t. But fuck, I wanted to. I reached down, sliding my arms beneath her, lifting her off the bed with ease. She gasped, her fingers gripping my shoulders as I brought her close. Her lips hovered near mine, her breath warm, and then—I kissed her. Hard. Deep. Possessive. She moaned into my mouth, her fingers digging into my skin. My hands roamed over her back, pressing her against me, feeling every curve, every trembling inch of her. When I pulled back, her lips were swollen, her eyes dazed. I exhaled, my voice a low rasp. “I will take responsibility,” I say as my fingers find her folds. I started rubbing gently, and she started to shake beneath me. "Oh my God." She says and starts to brush her clit on my finger. She needed this. I am trying to hold back, to help her, but right now, I can't with her doing this to me. "Please," she begged. Fuck, I don't know what type of drugs they used on me, and I don't know what they used on her. What if she doesn't recover from this? What if I don't recover too? Fuck! I closed my eyes. "Please, help me." She says. I parted her legs, aligned my cock in between her pussy. "Have you ever done this before?" She shook her head. Fuck, she looks so fucking sexy with her swollen lips. I claimed her lips and slowly slid my cock inside her, and she jumped at the thickness and the length. "Should I stop?" I asked, and she shook her head. "Please, it's better when you do this." I almost lost all control. "Tell me when it hurts; I will stop, okay?" She was so innocent; I continued to slowly slide my dick in her slippery pussy. She let out a sharp scream, and I stopped. She tried to adjust herself, but I held her in place. "Don't move; if you do, it will get worse." She looked at me and nodded. Not long after, she started to move, and I let out a moan; she was ready for me. I groaned and started to rock my hips from side to side, and then she screamed as she released. "Please, more," she says in between pants. And I didn't hold back. I delved all in, exploring every part and inch of her pussy; she didn't scream this time; instead, she was encouraging me as I fucked her. opening even wider for me to explore her pussy. Fuck, she wasn't feeling like an 18-year-old. She felt like a woman who could handle me, my dick. I fucked her until I felt she was tired. I then emptied myself inside her. I wanted more, but I was scared she wouldn't stand me. "More," she said, and I didn't wait for her to say more. I went on top of her and fucked her the whole night. The next morning, I had a business meeting. I wrote my name and number on a piece of paper. Asked Derrick to get flowers and the best dress for her.