I need your help to be good.
Her words resonated in his head as she reached for his neck, curling her fingers just under the base of his skull and demanding his lips. Rolling on top of her, his cock throbbed against her damp curls. She was wet and ready for him, aching for him just as he was aching for her.
“Please,” she moaned beneath him, wiggling her hips, trying to get closer. “Please. We don’t have to . . . have sex. I just want to know how it feels.”
He kissed her again, long and hard, his tongue mating with hers, thrusting and sliding the way he wished his cock could, and it wasn’t enough. It just wasn’t e-fucking-nough.
“Laire,” he whispered against her lips, thrusting lightly against her, frustrated that she was warm against him but not wet and enveloping, not sucking him forward, not surrounding him with contracting, quivering muscle.
“Do it,” she said, biting his lower lip. “Just for a minute.”
Just for a minute.
Fuck.
So fucking tempting.
He panted over her, bracing his weight on his elbows.
“I’d still be takin’ your virginity, darlin’, even if we didn’t . . . finish.”
She nodded urgently, a whimpering, pleading noise slipping through her lips. “I know. It’s okay. I want you to.”
Cupping her face with his hands, he forced her to look at him. “Laire, you made me promise.”
“I release you from your promise,” she breathed. “I love you.”
Reaching down between their bodies, he positioned himself at the entrance of her sex, holding himself there, wincing from the strength it took not to slide forward.
“I love you. I don’t . . . I don’t want you to regret this,” he said.
Her hands skated down his back, finally resting on his ass. As though she knew instinctively how to urge him forward, she squeezed his cheeks at the same time she arched her back and raised her knees. And with a gasp of defeat and relief, Erik slid into her welcoming warmth, into the tight, hot sheath of her sex, bursting through the light barrier of flesh until he was buried within her to the hilt.
She cried out—an “unh-ah!” sound of pain—wincing and panting loudly beneath him, her eyes clenched shut, her body rigid.
“Baby,” he gasped, keeping his body as still as possible, resisting every urge to move within her. Her muscles clamped around his thickness, and for a moment his breath hitched and his eyes rolled back in his head, his arms shaking on either side of her head as he fought for self-control. He’d never felt anything like the exquisite fist of Laire’s pussy squeezing him—the heat of her, the wetness, the perfect fit of her body wrapped around his.
“I’m okay . . . I’m okay . . .,” she panted, her breath hot on his lips as a tear rolled from the corner of her eye into her hair. “I knew it would . . . I knew it would hurt a little.”
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice thready and husky at the same time.
Want.
Worry.
She licked her lips and nodded, finally opening her eyes to look up at him. They were deep and sea-green, glistening with tears but shining with love, and though five women had come before Laire in his bed, none had ever owned his heart as she did. And suddenly it didn’t hurt to remain still, letting her accustom herself to his invasion. It felt right. It felt good. It felt . . . beautiful.
He nuzzled her nose, kissing her gently. When he drew back, she was smiling at him, her face soft and dreamy. “We’re one right now, Erik.”
“We’re one, darlin’.”
He pulled his hips back a millimeter, then let himself fall forward again, watching the play of emotion, of deep pleasure, across her face.
“More,” she murmured. “Do it again.”
He gulped. He didn’t have long before he’d come. It had been a wonderful summer with Laire, but while helping her uncover her own sexuality, his needs had been somewhat neglected. He wouldn’t have much longer before he’d need to come. And while she was a virgin and he hadn’t been intimate with anyone in months, without a condom between them, he definitely didn’t want to get her pregnant.
“One last time,” he said. “Then I’ll pull out.”
She nodded. “One last time. Please.”
Pulling his pelvis back, he withdrew from her almost entirely, then, holding her eyes, he thrust forward again, once, twice, three times, her hips meeting his every time.
“I have to . . . stop,” he said, out of breath, his arms taut beside her head. “We have to . . .”