Easing her back on the bed, I take hold of her panties. The journey that small scrap of silk takes down her legs seems endless. Torture.
Fi only chuckles, kicks her panties aside. I’ve never met a girl like her. She isn’t shy, yet she doesn’t preen. She knows I’m dying to see her. It’s clear in the way she lays back, one arm draped over her head, the other resting on my shoulder. In the way she looks up at me as if to say, I’m yours, do as you wish.
A breath gusts out of my mouth. I’m shaking like a leaf. Sweat covers my skin, makes me shiver even more. And yet I’m so fucking hot I can barely breathe.
I can’t stop stroking her curves, her skin so smooth and soft I could touch her forever. Can’t stop staring at the deep rose tips of her nipples, at pert, creamy breasts that fit perfectly in the palm of my hand. At the dip of her waist and wide swells of her hips. The little triangle of golden curls, the exact shade of spun sugar.
She is so gorgeous, so perfect, my chest feels like it might cave in.
Her plump lips curl in a smile. “Now I know even a virgin football player has to have seen his share of naked women.”
She's right. Girls aren’t shy around star athletes. I’ve seen plenty of them. In all sorts of shapes, sizes, and colors.
“I can’t be that different,” she says.
My hand stills on the curve of her hip, at the spot where it sweeps down to her luscious ass. “You are.” A little furrow works between her brows, and I lean down to press my lips there. “You’re mine. That makes all the difference in the world.”
I can feel her smile. She cups the back of my neck, runs her fingers down my skin, sending lightning strikes of heat along my back. “Take me, Ethan.”
I’m not even conscious of moving, but I’m kissing her, deep and hard, like I need her to breathe. Soft lips, warm, wet mouth. My tongue dips in again, again, needing more. I move over her, my hips settling between her legs.
Hell, she’s so much smaller than me, delicate and breakable. I don’t want to crush her, but she spreads her thighs wider, sighing into my mouth as she does it, and I just want to press into her until every inch of my skin covers hers.
My cock is so hard it hurts, nestled along the slick channel between her legs. I can’t help but move my hips, slip-slide and grind against her sweet *. But it’s not enough. I want in. It’s pure aggression, this need.
Gritting my teeth, I rest my weight on my elbows and peer down at her. “Okay?” I don’t know if I’m asking her or asking myself. I’m shaking again. Always shaking with this girl. She could slash me in two with a word, a look, and she doesn’t know it.
Or maybe she does. Her smile is tender as she brushes back the tangle of my damp hair hanging around my face. “Perfect, Ethan.”
I force a breath into my lungs, then cant my hips, lifting back enough that the aching tip of my cock finds her opening. So warm and slick. I swallow convulsively, my heart threatening to pound its way out of my chest.
“Fi,” I whisper, searching her eyes.
Her hand glides down my spine to my ass, clutches tight, urging me to move. And then I’m pushing in and in. And in.
A groan tears from me, so ragged it sounds like I’m in pain, when really I’m in Heaven. Tight, wet, hot Heaven. I think I sob. I don’t know. My only thought is more. And now.
I push until she’s too tight to get any farther. Then pull back.
Holy sweet hell. The glide out is almost as good. Only, fuck, I need to thrust again. And harder. Get deeper. So I do, working my way in, fighting for every inch and loving every fucking second of it.
Beneath me, Fi’s eyes flutter closed, her slim back arching up toward me. She’s fragile beneath me. And yet, God, the way she spreads her legs wider, the little whimpers and gasps for air, like she’s desperate for me to give it to her hard. It takes all my will not to pound into her like a beast. Because I need to know for sure.