I kiss him back. Soft. Light. “I’m yours. And you’re my guy.”
“Fuck yeah, I am.” He smiles as he nuzzles my nose with his. And though I’m so hot, so ready for him, tenderness has my chest aching. His breath gusts over my lips, his lashes lowering. “I know you wanted it slow, soft. But…shit, honey, I don’t…I don’t think I can the first time. I’ll try—”
I kiss his lips, quiet him, my thighs gripping tighter, drawing him closer. He shudders around me. I shudder too. It’s been a long time, and he’s big. But the stretch of him feels so good, it highlights that aching emptiness inside of me. My voice is breathy, impatient. “I don’t need it slow. I just need you. Now.”
He nods, kissing me almost absently. “Okay. Okay. Just…fuck.” He groans, moving in a bit deeper. “Tell me to stop. Any time you want me to stop. I will.”
“Now, Gray.”
“Bossy.” He’s grinning.
“Cupcake.”
“Fucking love when you call me that.” He thrusts upward, and I groan, pushing my body down onto his cock, needing more.
His gaze locks with mine, our lips brushing, tickling with each breath. As if he can’t help himself, he licks into my mouth, tastes me as he pushes again. “You’re perfect,” he says. “Perfect.”
And then he’s fully in, so deep and solid it throbs. The crinkly hairs at his base rub my clit with each hard pump of his hips. And I’ve died. Because it’s too much. Too good.
“Perfect,” I whisper, holding on tight.
* * *
Gray
I think I’m going to die. My chest feels like it’s about to crack open, expose my heart and leave me wasted on the floor. I’ve never had sex with someone who mattered to me. It’s almost too much to handle. Because this is Ivy.
I’m inside Ivy. Finally inside Ivy. No barriers. Her tight, wet heat clasping my dick so good I have to grit my teeth to keep from shouting.
My fingers sink into her plump, sweet ass, spreading her wider as I thrust. Hard. Deep. Steady. No more talk. Just Ivy. Having Ivy. Her long legs are wrapped around me, holding on tight. Water rains down on my back, slides over us, makes Ivy’s smooth skin slick, wet. It’s heaven.
Ivy utters a little whimper, like she’s as impatient and needy as I am. She cups my cheeks, finds my mouth. Wet lips, soft tongue. She kisses me as if I’m the best thing she’s ever tasted. And, fuck, it screws with my head. I want to cry, or laugh, or both. I don’t understand it, but I don’t want this to end. It’s agony and perfection all at once.
I angle my head, opening my mouth wider for her, thrust my tongue into her warm mouth. I kiss her until I can’t breathe, get fucking dizzy on her taste. And Ivy makes that hot, feminine whimper again.
It’s too much. I’m losing my mind.
I pump into Ivy. Harder. Harder. I should be gentle. Slow. I can’t. I want to pound myself into her until I’m a part of her. Our lips slide apart, our movements too frantic now for kissing. My face burrows into the crook of her neck, my mouth open on her soft skin.
“Ivy.” I’m saying it over and over, with each thrust. Ivy, Ivy, Ivy. I don’t even know why. I want to tell her better things. That she’s everything to me. The best part of me. That I’ll take care of her, protect her—from what I don’t know. But I will. I’ll keep her safe and happy. Because it’s my job. The most important job I’ll ever have.
But all I can say is her name, fuck her like I’m about to die.
She’s panting now, her slim arms sliding over the wet tiles, as if she’s trying to get away from the pleasure and reach for it all at once. Her thighs clamp down on my waist as she arches her hips into mine. And those sweet-as-fuck tits lift high. I haven’t even gotten a taste of them.
I duck my head, capture a pink nipple, and suck it in deep, lick the stiff little nub, flick it with my tongue. And she loves it, her * milking my dick as she cups my head and writhes.