Holding Her Hand (Reed Brothers Book 15)

“Are you sure?” I ask, using my voice.

She tilts her hips. “Yes. I’m sure.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

She hooks her legs around my hips and pulls me with her heels, and I slide into her slowly. Her mouth falls open and a breath of wind escapes her, and then nothing. She clenches her eyes tightly closed, and the greedy walls of her * suck at me.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

She nods and nudges me forward again with her heels. I go a little deeper. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to pound into her. But she’s precious to me. I want to make this okay for her. I want to make it memorable. I want to not bust a nut until she’s satisfied too. But I’m not sure that’s going to be possible, not with her wrapped so tightly around me, taking me inside her.

When I’m as deep as I can go, I lift up on my arms and start to move. Her eyes open and she stares into mine. “Yes,” she says. I can see the word on her lips and feel it in her body, feel it as she takes all of me again and again. She arches to meet me, and she’s so damn tight.

“I can’t hold back,” I warn. She looks at me and shakes her head. She doesn’t know what I said. “I’m going to come,” I explain.

She nods. I stop and look at her, really look at her. She’s breathing hard, and sweat dots her forehead. But she’s not satisfied.

“Are you hurting?” I ask.

She cups the side of my face with her hand and kisses me. “I’m not hurting.”

“It’s your first time. I don’t want to go too fast.”

She tilts her hips and I slide in a little deeper. She clutches my forearms. Apparently, the angle change was perfect, because she claws the backs of my arms and holds on to me, her legs lifting higher to take more of me. I press her thigh against her chest and fuck her harder, thinking about cheeseburgers and ice cubes to keep from coming. My third grade science teacher.

She taps my shoulder so I’ll look at her. “Now,” she mouths, and her eyes close as she comes apart in my arms. She falls over the cliff, and she takes me with her. I wrap my arms around her tightly, pounding through the orgasm, pushing inside her as far as I can go, coming deep in the condom, deep in her, and nothing ever felt quite so right.

Until she starts to cry.

Oh, shit. She’s crying, and I’m still semi-hard inside her. A tear tracks down the side of her face, across her temple and into her hair. She turns her face away from me.

I pull out of her tight sheath, hissing as my sensitive dick protests the retreat, and take her face in my hands. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Her shoulders shake, but she wraps her arms around me. I roll to the side, taking my weight off her, and pull her to rest on my chest. She wipes her face on my naked chest and sniffles.

“I’m sorry,” I say again. “I didn’t mean to.”

She lifts her head and rests her chin on my chest. “You didn’t mean to what?” She smiles softly at me.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I’m sorry I got snot all over you.” She laughs and wipes beneath her eyes.

“I made you cry. I deserve some snot.” I roll her onto her back. “We can do it again. I can make you come with my mouth. With my fingers. I can do better.”

“If you did any better, I’d die,” she says. Then she giggles, her chest rocking under mine.

“What?”

“I’m sorry I got emotional. It was a big thing.”

“Sex?” I’m a guy. I just had an orgasm, so my brain is mush.

“Sex with you. First-time sex. Losing my V-card sex.” She wipes her nose again. “I didn’t expect it to be so good. My sisters said their first times pretty much sucked ass.”

“It was good?”

She nods. “Yes.” She shoves my shoulder. “Stop fishing for compliments!”

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