Her hand is on the back of my head, holding me to her, and I let my hand drift down the gentle slope of her belly, resting between her legs. She’s hot there, and wet. So incredibly wet. I touch her with just the tips of my fingers, delving deeper with every stroke, until she’s moving against my hand, her legs spreading, her hips lifting subtly. I keep talking, telling her how beautiful she is, how I want to make her feel good, how much I need her to come.
Her eyes flash open as her body tenses and I wonder if she’s close. Or if she’s drifting away, letting her fears overcome her again. Her gaze meets mine, wild and confused, and I increase my pace, my thumb brushing over her clit again and again, and I know in an instant I haven’t lost her.
I’ve finally fucking found her.
Leaning over her, I crush my mouth to hers, my hand busy between her legs, her body straining beneath mine. She breaks away from my kiss, a pained oh leaving her, my name soon following. My hand moves fiercely over her, circling her clit with my thumb, and she arches beneath me.
She’s coming.
Her body is racked with shudders. Her skin is covered with sweat. My name falls from her lips like a chant, over and over, and then she’s kissing me, right before she collapses as if her bones just melted. She’s the one consuming me and I remove my hand from between her legs to clutch her close, roll her over so she’s on top of me.
“I made you come,” I whisper against her lips, the arrogant tone in my voice unmistakable.
Katie sighs, the sound of a deeply satisfied woman. “You did.”
“I want to make you come again.” I kiss her. “I want you to come on my cock.”
“Ethan,” she chastises, but I see the way her eyes flash.
She likes my saying that.
“Let me inside, baby.” I tangle my fingers in her hair, pulling it out of the sloppy topknot. I remove the elastic band holding it in place and her golden hair spills over her shoulders, the ends tickling my face, and her familiar scent washes over me.
If my dick gets any harder, I might be in serious trouble.
“Like this?” She rotates her hips against me and I swear my eyes cross. “With me on top?”
“Whatever you’re comfortable with.” I brush her hair back and flip it over her shoulder. She’s so beautiful like this. Her skin glows, her eyes sparkle. I put that glow on her face, that sparkle in her gaze. I’m the one responsible for making her feel sexual pleasure for the first time in her life.
I want to be her first and her last.
“I think I’d rather you . . .” Her voice drifts and her cheeks turn red with embarrassment. “I want you on top. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Without warning, I roll her over so she’s pinned beneath me and I kiss her, savoring her taste, the way she writhes underneath me. “I’ll go slow,” I vow. “And it’ll be easier now that you’ve had an orgasm. You’ll be more . . . open. More relaxed.”
“I’m still tingling from it,” she whispers, and I smile.
“Let’s make it happen again.”
He reaches for his bedside table and withdraws a condom from the drawer, tearing the wrapper and rolling away from me so he can kick off his sweatpants and put the condom on. I watch in fascination, fully taking in the length and width of his erection for the first time, and my throat goes dry. I know what he said, that it should be easier considering I just had an orgasm, but still.
Ethan seems big. Not that I’ve seen a lot of penises, but . . . yeah.
I don’t get to stare and worry for long, though. He pulls me beneath him once more, his mouth fusing with mine, his tongue doing all of these delicious circles around mine. I love it when he kisses me. I love the feel of his hot body pressing me deeper into the mattress. The subtly insistent way he thrusts his hips against mine, the movement causing my thighs to spread and accommodate him. He’s positioned perfectly to take me, his elbows braced on either side of my head, his mouth still on mine, his erection probing at my entry.
I refuse to let my fears take hold. Instead, I focus on the here and now. The way he smells, warm and masculine, clean and fresh. The tickle of his stubble against my cheeks, the taste of his lips, his assured touch.
Slowly, with infinite patience, he enters me. I tense up, my breath stalled in my lungs, my muscles seizing, but he keeps kissing me, coaxing me with his lips and tongue, easing the tension as he eases fully inside my body. He breathes my name against my lips and lifts up, his hands braced on the pillow as he pushes forward with his hips, embedding himself, going deeper.
I close my eyes and try to remember to breathe. His length stretches and pulls, causing a stinging sensation deep within, and I wince, a gush of breath leaving me when he withdraws almost all the way and then pushes back inside.
Oh. That wasn’t so bad.
“If I move any more, any faster, I’ll blow,” he says, and I open my eyes to see the strain on his face, his lips pressed tightly together. “You feel so damn good,” he mutters.