“Use me.” The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat, and my hands were trembling as I clutched the edge of the bed. He was standing there, just a few feet away, his eyes dark and hungry, like he’d been waiting for this moment since the second he swiped right on my profile.

I hadn’t even kissed anyone before tonight. Not even a peck on the cheek. And now here I was, half-naked, lying awkwardly on a stranger’s bed, begging him to… well, do things. Things I’d only ever read about in the fanfiction forums late at night when no one else was watching. The kind of stuff that made me blush so hard I had to bury my face in my pillow to keep from screaming.

But this wasn’t fiction anymore. This was real. And I could barely breathe.

His voice was low, rough, and it sent shivers down my spine. “You sure about that, princess?” His lips curled into a smirk, and I swear I felt my stomach flip. “Once we start, I’m not stopping until I’ve had my fill.”

I nodded, even though my brain was screaming at me to run. But my body—my stupid, traitorous body—was already betraying me. My thighs were pressed together, but I could still feel how wet I was, how my pulse was throbbing between my legs. I wanted this. No, I needed this. After 23 years of being the quiet, nerdy girl who spent more time with her textbooks than actual people, I was done waiting. Done wondering what it would feel like to be touched, to be wanted.

And oh God, did he want me. The way his eyes raked over me, like he was already imagining all the ways he was going to take me apart… it made me feel alive in a way I never had before.

It all started three days ago. I was sitting in my tiny apartment, scrolling through Tinder for the hundredth time that week. My cat, Mr. Whiskers, was curled up next to me, judging me silently. He always did that whenever I opened the app, like he knew exactly what I was doing. Maybe he did. Cats are creepy like that.

My profile was a mess. A single photo of me holding a giant stack of books (because, you know, nerd vibes), and a bio that said, “Looking for someone who won’t judge me for binge-watching Star Trek reruns.” It wasn’t exactly inspiring, but then again, neither was my love life.

And then I saw him.

His name was Alex, and his pictures were… intense. Dark hair, those sharp cheekbones, and a smile that looked like it belonged in a toothpaste commercial. But it was his bio that really got me. “Swipe right if you’re ready for something wild.”

Wild. As in, the opposite of everything I was. I hesitated for a moment, my finger hovering over the screen. But then I thought, what the hell, and swiped right.

Almost instantly, I got a match notification. And then, a message.

“Wild enough for me, princess?”

I nearly dropped my phone. My cheeks burned as I stared at the screen, trying to figure out how to respond. Do I play it cool? Do I flirt back? Do I scream into a pillow because oh my God an attractive man is talking to me?

In the end, I went with something simple. “Depends. How wild are we talking?”

His response came quickly. “Let’s find out.”

And just like that, we were texting nonstop. He was charming, funny, and ridiculously confident in a way that made me feel both terrified and excited. By the end of the first day, I was already imagining what it would be like to meet him in person. By the second, I was Googling how to actually be good in bed, because let’s face it—I had no idea what I was doing.

When he suggested meeting up at his place, I almost said no. Almost. But then he sent me a voice message, his deep voice dripping with promises of things I’d only ever dreamed about, and suddenly I was typing out my address without a second thought.

Now here I was, lying on his bed, feeling completely out of my depth. He stepped closer, and I could smell his cologne—something spicy and warm that made my head spin. When he reached out to brush a strand of hair away from my face, I flinched, but he didn’t pull back. Instead, he leaned in, his lips grazing my ear as he whispered, “Relax. I’ve got you.”

His hand slid down my side, leaving a trail of fire in its wake, and I whimpered. I couldn’t help it. Every touch, every breath, every word—it was overwhelming in the best possible way. When his fingers found the hem of my shirt, I held my breath as he pulled it over my head, leaving me in just my bra and jeans.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes roaming over my body like I was some kind of masterpiece instead of a nervous wreck. His hands moved to my waist, undoing the button of my jeans with practiced ease. He tugged them down slowly, letting his fingers graze my inner thighs, and I swear I almost passed out.

And then… oh God.

His hand slipped between my legs, and I gasped as his fingers brushed against the wet fabric of my panties. “Fuck, you’re soaked,” he growled, his voice sending a jolt straight to my core. “You really do want this, don’t you?”

I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. All I could do was nod, my hips instinctively lifting toward him, begging for more. He chuckled, low and dirty, before sliding my panties aside and pressing a finger against my entrance.

The moment he pushed inside, I moaned—a sound I didn’t even recognize as coming from me. It was like nothing I’d ever felt before. His finger moved slowly, deliberately, curling just enough to make me see stars. And then he added another, stretching me in a way that made me gasp and clutch at the sheets.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his free hand stroking my thigh. “Just let go.”

I tried to hold on, I really did. But the pressure building inside me was too much, too intense. When he pressed his thumb against my clit, I shattered. My body convulsed, my back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed over me. And then, to my complete shock, I felt something hot and wet gush out of me, soaking his hand and the sheets beneath us.

I froze, mortified. “Oh my God, I—I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

But he just laughed, his fingers still teasing me as he brought his hand up to his mouth. “Don’t apologize, princess. That just means I’m doing my job right.”

And then he was on me again, his lips claiming mine in a kiss that left me breathless. I could taste myself on his tongue, and it should have been weird, but it wasn’t. It was hot. Everything about him was hot.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were blazing. “Your turn,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “What do you want, princess? Tell me.”

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. What did I want? There were so many options, so many possibilities. But there was one thing I knew for sure.

“I want…” I started, my voice shaking. “I want you to use me. However you want.”

His grin was predatory, and I felt a thrill of excitement—and fear—coursing through me. “Whatever I want, huh? Be careful what you wish for…”

And then he was moving, his hands and mouth everywhere at once, and I could barely keep up. But I didn’t need to. All I needed to do was hold on and let him take control.

And oh God, was he taking control…

The moment the words left my lips, I felt a shiver run down my spine. Not just from the cold air of his apartment, but from the intensity in Alex’s eyes. His grin widened, and I could see the hunger in them—raw, unapologetic, and all-consuming. He was going to take me at my word, I realized, and part of me wondered if I’d just made a mistake. But then again, hadn’t this been what I wanted? What I’d fantasized about late at night, alone in my bed, imagining someone like him?

His hands were on me before I could second-guess myself, gripping my hips with a firmness that made my breath hitch. He spun me around abruptly, pressing my chest against the cool surface of his dining table. My cheek squished against the wood as my arms instinctively spread out, bracing myself. The position was so sudden, so exposed, that I could feel the heat rising to my face. This is really happening, I thought, my heart pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it.

“You said whatever I want,” he murmured, his voice low and taunting, close enough that I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. “And right now, I want to explore every inch of you. Starting here.”

I felt his fingers trail down my spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake, until they reached the curve of my ass. He squeezed lightly, almost teasingly, and I let out a shaky breath. Is he…? My thoughts stuttered as his fingers dipped lower, brushing against the sensitive skin between my thighs, dangerously close to where I was already throbbing.

But then his touch shifted, moving upward again, and I froze when I felt his thumb press against my tight entrance. Oh God. My stomach clenched, not just from nerves but from something deeper, something I couldn’t quite name. Fear? Anticipation? Maybe both. My inexperience screamed at me to stop him, to tell him I wasn’t ready for this, but another part of me—a louder, hungrier part—wanted to see where this would go.

“Relax,” he commanded, his voice firm but not unkind. “If you tense up, it’ll hurt more. Trust me.”

Trust him? I barely knew him. And yet, there was something about the way he said it, the confidence in his tone, that made me want to obey. I forced myself to exhale slowly, letting my body loosen under his touch. His thumb pressed harder, circling the tight ring of muscle, and I bit my lip to stifle a whimper.

And then, oh God, his finger breached me.

It was slow, deliberate, and so much more intense than I’d imagined. The stretch burned slightly, a sharp sting that made me gasp, but it wasn’t unbearable. If anything, it was… strange. Intimate. Invading, in a way that made my cheeks burn even hotter. I could feel every ridge of his finger as it pushed deeper, and I buried my face in my arm, trying to muffle the sounds threatening to escape my throat.

“That’s it,” he growled, his voice thick with approval. “Good girl. You’re taking it so well.”

The praise sent a jolt through me, warming me in places I didn’t even know could feel warm. His finger began to move, sliding in and out with a rhythm that was almost hypnotic. The initial discomfort faded, replaced by a dull ache that somehow felt… good. Like my body was adjusting to him, welcoming the intrusion even as my mind struggled to process it.

“Alex…” I whispered, my voice trembling. His name sounded foreign on my tongue, like I shouldn’t be saying it so soon, so intimately. But he didn’t seem to care. If anything, it only spurred him on.

“Louder,” he demanded, his free hand sliding around my hip to find the slick heat between my legs. His fingers rubbed circles against me, sending sparks shooting up my spine, and I let out a strangled moan. “Scream my name. Let me know how much you love this.”

Love it? Did I? It was overwhelming, too much sensation all at once, but I couldn’t deny the pleasure building inside me. His finger inside me, his other hand teasing my clit—it was like he was playing my body like an instrument, coaxing sounds out of me I didn’t even know I could make. My knees wobbled, and I gripped the edge of the table for support, my nails digging into the wood.

“Alex!” I cried out, unable to hold back any longer. His name tumbled from my lips like a prayer, high-pitched and desperate, and I felt a surge of pride when he rewarded me with a low groan.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he muttered, his voice rough with desire. “I can feel every little twitch, every tremble. You’re perfect.”

Perfect? Me? The thought was ridiculous, laughable even, but in that moment, I believed him. The way he touched me, the way he spoke to me—it made me feel like I was the only thing that mattered. His world revolved around me, around this moment, and I reveled in it.

His pace quickened, his finger thrusting deeper, harder, while his other hand worked me faster. The dual sensations were almost too much, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. I could feel myself unraveling, my body tightening as pleasure coiled low in my belly.

And then, just as I thought I might explode, he withdrew completely.

“No—” I whimpered, the loss almost painful. But Alex was already moving, positioning himself behind me. I heard the rustle of clothing, the sound of a zipper, and then the unmistakable slap of skin against skin as he freed himself. My stomach flipped, and I braced myself, unsure of what was coming next.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his voice laced with dark promise. “I’m not done with you yet. In fact…”

I gasped as I felt something hot and wet press against my opening. Is that…? My thoughts scattered as he leaned over me, his chest flush against my back, and whispered in my ear.

“Open wider for me.”

The command sent a fresh wave of arousal through me, and I obeyed without hesitation, arching my back and spreading my legs further apart. He groaned in approval, and then, with one relentless push, he entered me.

Oh my God. The stretch was unlike anything I’d ever felt. It burned, yes, but it was a good kind of burn, the kind that made my toes curl and my breath catch in my throat. He filled me completely, stretching me in ways I didn’t think possible, and I couldn’t help but moan his name again.

“Alex… oh God, Alex…”

“That’s it,” he purred, his hips rocking against mine in slow, deliberate strokes. “Take it all. You’re doing so fucking good.”

Doing good. The words echoed in my mind, driving me wild. I clung to the table, my knuckles white as I tried to keep up with the rhythm he set. Each thrust was a revelation, each movement pushing me closer to the brink. And then, just as I felt myself teetering on the edge, he pulled out again.

“Wait—” I started, but before I could protest, he repositioned himself, angling his hips and pressing against my ass.

“Trust me,” he repeated, his voice soothing despite the darkness in his tone. “You’re going to love this.”

My breath hitched as I felt him push forward, breaching me in a way that was entirely new. The stretch was sharper this time, more intense, and I let out a small cry. But Alex didn’t stop. He kept going, inch by torturous inch, until he was fully sheathed inside me. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that left me gasping for air.

“Scream for me,” he commanded, his hands gripping my hips tightly as he began to move. “Let me hear how much you love it.”

And scream I did. His name tore from my throat, raw and unfiltered, as he pounded into me with relentless force. The table creaked beneath us, the sound drowned out by our combined moans. I could feel myself unraveling, my body shuddering as the pleasure built to a crescendo.

And then, just as I thought I couldn’t take anymore, he growled, “I’m gonna fill you up.”

The words sent a thrill through me, and I nodded frantically, too overwhelmed to speak. His pace became erratic, his thrusts losing their rhythm as he chased his own release. And then, with a final, brutal thrust, he came inside me, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself deep within.

The warmth of his cum spilled onto my skin, trickling down my thighs, and I shuddered at the sensation. So this is what it feels like, I thought deliriously, my body still trembling from the aftershocks. But before I could catch my breath, Alex leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear.

“We’re not done yet,” he whispered, his voice dripping with wicked intent. “Not even close.”