He holds still. Barely inside me, and already I feel stretched, filled. I’m gasping, blinking through the blur of pain and pleasure.
His hand slides to my cheek, thumb grazing gently. “Breathe.”
I do, shaky and slow.
“There you go.” His voice drops, reverent. “You’re taking me so goddamn good.”
He moves again, slow and careful, slipping deeper. My body clenches. He groans—a low, wrecked sound like he’s holding back with everything he’s got.
“I know it burns,” he murmurs. “But I need to feel all of you.”
The pressure blooms sharper as he inches in. My legs shake. He stops again, forehead resting against mine.
“You okay?”
I nod, breath caught in my throat, and tilt my hips just enough to draw him in more.
“That’s my girl,” he growls.
He rocks forward again, sinking in another inch. Every nerve screams. I feel every ridge of him, thick and hot and pulsing. His jaw clenches.
“You feel that?” he pants. “Feel how this tight little body stretches for me?”
My fingers claw at his arms. He pushes deeper and I swear I can feel him in my stomach. Each inch is like a new kind of possession—breaking me open and putting me back together all at once.
“You’re taking it,” he grits. “Fucking perfect for me.”
He kisses my lips, then my jaw, down my throat. And then he stills again, buried almost all the way.
“You want the rest?” he growls.
I nod, eyes wide.
His hand slides under my thigh, hooking it around his waist. “Deep breath, baby.”
He thrusts, a deep, slow slide that burns and stretches and overwhelms. My walls grip him tight, not used to the invasion, and he lets out a strangled curse.
“Jesus fuck,” he growls.
A choked whimper leaves me as the last of him pushes inside. His hips press flush with mine, and I swear I can feel him everywhere. I’ve never felt so full, so owned.
He brushes my cheek again, grounding me. “Eyes on me,” he commands.
I look up, and he’s already locked on my face.
“That’s me, girl,” he breathes.
He pulls back just slightly, then thrusts in again—slow and smooth. The sting fades. The pleasure takes its place.
“Oh my god,” I gasp.
“You gonna tell me this is a one-time thing?” he murmurs. “That you’re just getting me out of your system?”
“Yes,” I pant.
He chuckles—low, cocky—and draws back before slamming into me harder.
I cry out, the shock of it rushing through me.
