Chapter 19 It Won’t Hurt Anymore

This wasn't the first time Harold had seen her tonight. During the grand opening, he sat in the front row, next to the Deputy Mayor of Washington D.C.
The Hong Kong businessmen who invested in the Strip Club and contributed over a billion dollars to city construction projects were valued by the State, so they sent him to show support.
Maggie didn't notice him.
The light projected from several flashlights embedded in the second-floor wall was too bright for her to see anyone in the seats.
She shone on stage, captivating his gaze. Speaking the usual scripted lines cleverly, her strapless dress narrowed at the waist, with the buttocks wrapped like two blooming buds.
Maggie closed the door and handed him the medicine, coming closer so that she could smell the pungent scent of whiskey around him.
Harold seemed weary, not even blinking his eyes. "Water," he said.
"There's no water in the room, only Coke."
The Coke was low, and she couldn't bend over, so she half-knelt down and handed him the Coke while placing the medicine in his palm.
She reached out her hand and gently pushed the bulging veins on the back of his hand. "Aren't you going to take it? This medicine works well. Do you often attend drinking parties?"
Harold looked up at her. "Yes."
"Then I can give you more. Do you want it?"
As she finished that, Harold's scorching gaze branded her smooth and fair chest, shoulders, and even her face, causing her to look up. "I have to go."
The more flustered she became, the more mistakes she made. When she stood up, her right foot tripped over her left, and she leaned to the side. Harold made a steady move, catching her and pulling her back into his arms.
Startled, she was pulled down and ended up straddling his knee, her bottom nearly slipping off. His hand grasped her buttocks, pulling her back into his embrace.
Maggie was practically engulfed by his chest, and she smelled like Fiona's fragrance - her waist, chest, and even her intimate area - all pressed against Harold through the thin fabric.
Primitive desire was evident in Harold's eyes.
The desire surged, but was forcefully suppressed, only leaving a deep smile. "What are you nervous about?"
His body emitted a thick scent of hormones mixed with strong alcohol, enveloping her as he unraveled.
Maggie's pulse pounded violently in the palm of her hand.
"I'm not."
"Then why did you stumble?"
She felt the vigorous power in his lower abdomen, suffocating her with each breath, causing her thighs to tremble and weaken.
Harold's hand slipped underneath her skirt, his scorching palm caressing her perky, round buttocks. He had wanted to touch them for a while now, but during their last encounter at The Grand Club, caution held him back, leaving him in a state of indecisiveness.
At this moment, with alcohol coursing through their bodies, her pale and smooth skin contrasted sharply with his rough and dark complexion.
Maggie's body tensed up, a warm breath rushed into her ears, and she fell into a pair of eyes that exuded a predator-like, aggressive gaze.
Harold's kiss came down like a fierce storm, filled with overwhelming tension, as if all desires and emotions burst open from the sealed floodgate.
His tongue was hot, tainted with nicotine and the bitter taste of alcohol, resembling fire, resembling a snake, relentlessly pushing into her throat.
Maggie couldn't catch her breath, tears welled up in her eyes, and in panic, she pushed him away. His strong body advanced like a fortress, spinning her world around and imprisoning her beneath him.
Harold ripped open his shirt, buttons scattered everywhere, baring his muscular chest that swelled and fell vigorously. The contact between their skin heated up to scorching temperatures.
"I'm giving you a chance," his wild and restrained breath exclaimed, "It's not too late to leave now."
His breath, his entanglement, scorched the pores of her body. Moisture seeped from between Maggie's legs, and involuntarily, she wanted to clench them together. "I... won't leave..."
The last two words came out almost inaudibly.
She blushed with shame, burying her head in his embrace.
Without hesitation, Harold stripped her, lowered his body, and teasingly played with her tender, pink nipples using his rough fingertips, while his lips lingered on the side of her neck.
Maggie trembled, her hand resting on his chest.
Harold's heartbeat pulsed within her palm.
Vigorous and rapid, it felt as if it belonged to her.
When he pulled out his third finger from the wet entrance, Maggie couldn't help but shed tears.
"Why are you crying?" he asked.
Sniffling, she replied, "I'm not crying..."
Her tearful appearance was pitiful.
Harold smeared the moisture from her entrance onto his erect member, and he flipped her over, her back exposed, her buttocks raised, assuming a kneeling position.
Her delicate entrance had already been penetrated and touched numerous times, and at this moment, it quivered, appearing inviting.
He supported his thick dick by her entrance, occasionally thrusting, occasionally rubbing, the scorching tip yearning to penetrate further.
Maggie was becoming increasingly restless by his rubbing, burying her face in her hands, trembling and shaking. Her damp, long hair stuck to a section of his smooth and fair back.
Harold parted her, holding onto her slender waist, his expression blazing like fire as he forcefully pushed his member inside.
The scorching heat tore through the flesh within her entrance, she yelled out "Ouch..."
With a stifled groan, Harold winced in pain. The corridor was too tight, and his entire body muscles were contracting and expanding intensively.
"Be a good girl, once you stretch, it won't hurt anymore."
The man's powerful waist started to move vigorously, his rigid and slender hardness seemed like it could burst through Maggie's lower abdomen. She thought she couldn't bear it, and her tight little opening clenched frantically.
Until the forceful thrust hit deep and bulged, a wave of pleasure flooded over her scalp, and a seductive moan escaped her lips.