‘How are you keeping so still?’ I push the words through controlled breaths, wanting to release my leg muscles and take him to the hilt, but I’m wary of the pain it’ll cause.
‘I don’t want to hurt you.’ He turns his face into my cheek and bites down before kissing it gently. ‘Trust me, it’s taking everything out of me. Down a bit more?’
I nod and drop a fraction further. ‘Oh God.’ I grit my teeth, the persistent stabbing pain making my head heavy, my face turning into his neck and hiding.
‘Get past this and we’re in a whole new world of pleasure.’
‘Why does it hurt so much?’
‘I don’t want to sound self-assured, but . . .’ He gasps and starts to shake. ‘Fucking hell, Livy.’
‘Miller!’ I hold my breath and release the muscles in my legs, falling straight onto his lap on a shocked yelp. ‘Shit!’
‘Are you okay?’ he shouts. ‘Jesus, Livy, tell me you’re okay.’
I’ve broken out in a sweat, and I’m still shaking, despite my relaxed body. It’s beyond my control. ‘I’m okay.’ I nuzzle into his neck some more.
‘Am I hurting you?’
‘Yes . . . no!’ I pull away from him and delve my hands into my hair in despair. ‘Just give me a moment!’
‘How long is a moment?’ he spits.
I grit my teeth and push up from my knees, only a very small way, before dropping down, less controlled than I planned. He barks. I yelp. ‘Miller, I can’t!’ I feel utterly defeated by the mixture of pleasure and pain. I want to grab hold of the heaviness in my groin and take it to the next level, but my legs haven’t got the strength required to take me there. ‘I can’t do it.’ I fall back against his chest, my arms falling limply to my sides, my breathing laboured from doing hardly anything.
‘Shhhh,’ he soothes me. ‘Do you want me to take care of it?’
‘Please.’ I feel useless, feeble.
‘I don’t think I’ve worked hard enough to break you in, Olivia Taylor.’ He executes a slow, firm rotation of his groin into my bum, keeping deep but not instigating the sharpness that’s causing me discomfort.
‘Hmmm.’
‘Better?’ he asks, resting his palms on my hips. I nod my acceptance on a sigh, letting him keep us completely close and connected while he grinds continuously, around and around, over and over. ‘How does that feel?’
‘Perfect,’ I breathe.
‘Can you lift a little bit?’
I don’t answer, lifting myself a fraction, feeling him slip slightly from my passage. ‘You’re so patient with me,’ I murmur, wondering whether he’s this attentive with every woman he’s slept with.
‘You make me appreciate sex, Livy.’ I feel him rise slightly, too, his hands drifting from my h*ps to my br**sts, then onto my shoulders and down my arms where he holds my hands. Lacing his fingers through mine, he lifts my useless limbs and takes them behind his head and holds them there. He thrusts forward gently, pulls back and inches forward once more. ‘Let me taste you.’
I turn my head and find his eyes. It’s been too long since I’ve seen them. ‘Thank you.’ I don’t know why I’ve said that, but I feel the profound need to voice my gratitude.
‘Why are you thanking me?’ His eyes twinkle curiously as he maintains the steady flow of his body into mine. It’s divine, all tenderness long forgotten, being replaced with pure, beautiful pleasure.
‘I don’t know,’ I admit quietly.
‘I do.’ He sounds confident, following up his assured words with a confident kiss, hard but slow, demanding but oh so giving. ‘You’ve never felt like this.’ His h*ps dip and roll up at an excruciatingly accurate angle, pulling a low, pleasure-filled moan from deep within me. ‘And neither have I.’ He pecks my lips. ‘So I need to thank you, too.’
I’m starting to shake. ‘Oh God!’ I sound panicked, desperate.
‘Keep your hands in my hair,’ he orders tenderly, letting his own hands fall to my br**sts. He massages them gently and circles his thumbs over the very tips of my ni**les, hurling me beyond pleasure.
I’m losing control of my muscles, my entire body giving in to wild shakes, and I’m purring, pulling his head closer to locate his lips. ‘Let me taste you.’ I mimic his words, plunging my tongue into his mouth, rolling, retreating and pushing back in, while he tortures my body with his delicate rhythm, so careful and attentive.
‘Do I taste as good as you?’ he asks.
‘Better.’
‘I very much doubt that,’ he claims. ‘I need you to focus, Livy.’ He groans and separates our mouths, his hair damp from sweat and dripping down his face. ‘I’m going to lower you so we can both finish, okay?’ I nod my acceptance, and he kisses me as he takes my hands from his head and pushes me down so I’m on all fours. ‘Comfortable?’