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“Smart,” he says simply. “You knew, on some level, you couldn’t trust him.”

“But why do I trust you? I barely know you. We aren’t even—” I look away. It occurs to me he might see this as a step in the wrong direction, an intimacy that goes beyond what we agreed to. “It doesn’t mean I—”

“What if it does mean something, Amelia?” I turn back to him. “You do know me. We’ve been honest with each other from day one. That’s why you’re comfortable doing this. You know where I stand. I know where you stand. There’s no secrets between us.”

Andrew would hurt me now to save me later. Maybe that’s why I trust him. I’d do the same for him. I get up onto my elbows and crook my ankles around the backs of his thighs to pull him to the edge of the bed. “Get rid of the condom.”

He arches an eyebrow at me. “You sure?”

“I want to feel you. Are you clean?”

He nods. “I haven’t gone without a condom since Shana, and I was tested after she left. Just to be sure.”

“Same with me and Reggie.”

With a grin, he tosses the wrapper over his shoulder and pulls my skirt down my hips, discarding it on the ground. I retreat on the mattress as he crawls toward me. “I told you I was an ass man.”

“I’m not sure if I’m an ass girl.”

“You will be when I’m done with you.” When he’s above me, he lowers his mouth, ghosting it over mine. “Then we’ll be a match made in heaven.”

“I don’t know about that,” I tease, then raise my lips to his.

He cups the back of my head and eases his weight on me. Leisurely, I slide my tongue over his, deepening the kiss. He curls his fingers into my hair and groans, grinding his hips against me. “I’m going to make you feel so good. Flip over, babe.”

He lifts up to give me room, his bicep muscles bulging. When I’m on my stomach, he sits on the backs of my thighs, straddling me.

I hear the cap of the lube pop open. My insides clench before he even touches me. Since I can’t see, I’m forced to fill in the blanks as I listen to him squirt lube into his palms, the gooey sounds as he rubs his hands together.

“Your ass was one of the first things I noticed about you,” he says, spreading my cheeks apart with sticky fingers.

“It’s the first place I—” I suck in a breath as he slides his fingers up my crack, “—first place I gain weight.”

“Thank God,” he says through a chuckle. He grabs both my cheeks, kneading them. “Otherwise I might’ve missed you.”

I’m more turned on than self-conscious, so I push back against his hands. “Patience,” he says. I hear the grin in his voice. “I can’t exactly dive in.”

I search for a witty comeback but lose my train of thought as he starts to explore. He teases my clit with his thumb as he presses one finger into my anus. “If at any point I’m going too fast—”

“I’ll tell you,” I promise.

He works it in to the knuckle. Since we’ve done this before, and he’s nice and slick, it doesn’t take long before he’s adding a second finger. I breathe evenly against the bedspread. My hairline prickles, my body warming with each stroke.

“Good?” he asks.

I answer by gyrating up into his hand.

He stills me. “Not yet. Give me control of your orgasm. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

I try to swallow, but my throat is suddenly dry. I relax back into the mattress. It takes all my concentration not to hump the bed. Without warning, he slides his thumb in my pussy and before I know it, he’s thrusting three slippery fingers in and out of my asshole.

“Jesus,” he mutters. “You should see yourself. You’re making me hard as a rock.”

Flooded with sensations as his fingers work me from both ends, I plead, “Then fuck me. I’m ready.”

He stops massaging, stops searching, and a second later, cool metal slides along the back of my thigh. Will it hurt? Would I mind if it did? He pulls one cheek aside, draws his fingers out, and replaces them with the tip of the plug. He doesn’t linger, but starts working it in, slowly, but without hesitation. He spreads and stretches me. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, but not enough to ask him to stop. “Is it in?” I ask.

“You’ll know.”

He’s right. After a few more pushes, an acute pinch takes my breath away, and then there’s a pull within my body as it accepts the plug. I gasp as my muscles contract around it.

“There,” he murmurs. “Still good?”

I inhale deeply, adjusting to the feeling and the knowledge of getting plumbed by an alien object. He doesn’t give me a chance to think too hard about it. Rising, he guides me up with him until I’m on all fours. I’m about to ask what he’s doing when there’s a familiar pressure between my legs.

“Relax,” he says—I’ve tensed up. “I’ll do all the work. I’m going to make you feel so good, baby. You’ll come apart at the seams.”

“And you?” I ask, taunting him.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get mine too.” He tugs me back onto him by my hips, filling me gradually, absolutely. I’m fuller than I’ve ever been, unnervingly so, but as he withdraws and slides back in, pleasure overtakes everything else. “Fuck,” he says.

“What?” I ask, alarmed by the intensity in his voice.

“I can feel the goddamn plug,” he says. “It’s bulging right against my shaft. I’m trying not to come like a fucking teenager.”

I’m distracted by the roundness inside me and the sharp awareness that Andrew’s controlling both of my holes right now. I drop my head between my arms, but he pulls it back up by my hair and his control begins to slip. Skin on skin, the both of us covered in lube, he gets faster, slicker, relentless, until he’s slamming into me, and my entire body is shaking with the need for release.

“Normally, I’d make you wait for your climax,” he says, panting. “But the more relaxed you are when I fuck your ass, the better.”

He takes me right to the edge with his unyielding thrusts and then shoves me over so I’m climaxing mercilessly. At one point, I can’t even hold myself up anymore, and I fall onto the mattress, spent.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, slowing down. “I didn’t even have to put you into position.” Still hard as a rock, he slides out of me while working the plug free. I writhe underneath him with the strangeness of being deflated, emptied after I was so full. He squeezes more lube between my cheeks. “Feels so goddamn amazing to be back inside you,” he says. “I’m barely keeping it together. Don’t worry, I won’t last long.”

Because I’m so turned on, my instinct is to tell him it’s okay if he lasts until the sun rises and sets again, as long as I can come a third, fourth, fifth time—but what if I’m not able to handle it more than a few seconds? What if I can’t reach another climax because it hurts? For a split second, unable to see his face, I’m terrified he’ll be so far gone, he won’t be able stop.

“You must be nervous,” he says. “I’ve never heard you this quiet.”

As soon as I hear his voice, my panic subsides. This is Andrew. He hasn’t given me any reason not to trust him. If he had, I wouldn’t be here at his mercy. “I’m ready,” I say.

“I’ve got you,” he says, somehow knowing what I need to hear. “Remember, if it’s too much . . .”

“I’ll stop you.”

He massages my anus, inserting a couple fingers again, loosening me up even more. Even though I want to stay where I am, spent and wobbly, he positions me back onto all fours. By the time he’s pressed up against me and pushing inside, my face burns hot. This feels wrong—forbidden but also physically wrong. A cock like his is too big for such a small hole. It sends a thrill down my spine that I’m doing something new with him, something so wicked, so outside my comfort zone. Andrew pulls me apart, probing me—huge, foreign, determined. He enters me so slowly, it must take every ounce of his restraint as he slides out a little and back in, slightly deeper than before, breaking through my barriers.

/>   He skates his hand up my back and grips my shoulder, firm but comforting. “Inhale.”

I do what he says, as if I’d forgotten something so basic. Maybe I had.

“Now exhale,” he instructs.

I blow out a long breath, and it moves through my entire body.

“And repeat. Just like that,” he says. “Like when you do yoga.”

“Yoga?” I can’t help snickering, and after a second, he laughs with me, deep and reassuring. I relax around him, and he slips deeper, causing me to gasp.

“Tell me when you want it,” he says with a few short, shallow thrusts.

If his plan is to go so slow that I get more impatient than afraid, it’s working. “I want it.”

“No,” he says, massaging the base of my neck. “Tell me when you really fucking want it. When you need it.”

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