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I reach down and take her by the hands to help her stand as she comes around from her afterglow, making sure that she doesn’t slip in the last of the water. Rather than helping her down I wrap my arms around her waist and lift her, wet and dripping in more ways than one, setting her down in front of me.
“Your shirt.” Candy exclaims. “It’s wet.”
“You’re right,” I say, and pull at the collar, tearing it off over my head. Before it even hits the ground I’m kissing her, claiming her lips, devouring her insatiably. Candy’s hands fly up to my chest, warm on my bare skin, and I pull her in closer to me until my hardness presses against her. She moans into our kiss and I break off just long enough to lift her again, feeling her legs instinctively curve around mine as I carry her through to the bed.
I drop her gently and carefully down onto the sheets, breaking the kiss again to stand in front of her as she lays before me, spread open and waiting. I growl deep in my throat, needing to be inside her already. This is the right time, and I can see from her face how much she wants it.
I drop my pants to the floor and then tear down my underwear, hearing her gasp as my cock springs free, so hard it points right up at the sky. I look at her and see a flicker of doubt, of nerves.
“Don’t worry,” I say, palming myself and watching her. “It may look big to you now, but I’ll fit.”
“Are you sure?” Candy asks, her voice breathy.
I only grin.
I crawl onto the bed over her, our naked bodies aligning as I lean down to kiss her again, deep and hungry. Her hands come up to grip my sides, and I lean on one hand to free the other for caressing her face, her breasts, down to her hip.
I angle myself at her entrance as we kiss, then pull away to look into her eyes. The unspoken question in mine is answered there she’s ready. She nods once and I use my hand to slowly and carefully guide myself inside, just a tiny bit at a time, only as much as she can handle. I see her eyes open wide in surprise at the way it feels, then relax again; when I push in a little further the flare is there again, before she relaxes into the new sensation. I fill her inch by inch like this, only going as far as she can take, rocking back a little from time to time before pushing in again.
Again, and again, until I fill her completely, and the both of us gasp in pleasure, our breath coming ragged together.
Then it’s only a matter of primal instinct taking over. The urge to move is built in, along with the instructions. I begin slowly at first, gently, aware of her need to adjust to this. I see how my care changes her face from tense to blissful, how her moans get lower, how she begins to rock her hips upwards to meet me.
I increase the tempo, bidden by the urgent need to drive into her again and again, to bury myself inside her only for the urge to tell me to move. I look into her eyes and then kiss her deep and heavy, our tongues entwining in time with our hips, crashing against each other, building and building.
Soon there is not enough oxygen in the room even to do that. I can only cling onto her and thrust, the slick motion between our bodies the only thing that matters, getting close to the edge. I hold back for her, look down into her eyes, and see how they slide closed in pleasure, how she throws her head back. Her hand’s fist in the covers and I keep up the tempo and friction, driving into her until she lets out a great cry and a shudder runs through her body. I feel her constrict around me, then pulse and throb, like she’s trying to milk the very life out of me – and I come, emptying myself inside her, groaning loud and gasping her name.
I flop down beside her, still caught in the throes of the afterglow, letting it wash over us like the heady intoxication of wine.
“Oh, my god,” Candy says, between pants for breath.
“I know,” I tell her. I pause before adding more. “Shall we do it again?”
“God, yes,” Candy says, and I laugh, kissing her shoulder as we regain our strength.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Candy
The weekend is over all too soon. Before I can get my breath, we’re traveling back home, sitting in the backseat with Bernard upfront. The car is laden down with a few more bags than it was when we set out, but it’s lighter by one thing my virginity. And I’m so, so glad to be leaving it behind – especially in the way that we did.
