She nodded, forehead pressed to the pillow, body softening around me with every stroke of her clit.
“There she is,” I breathed, proud and absolutely wrecked. “Taking me so good. You feel that, sweetheart? That stretch? That’s mine. Every part of you, even this—especially this.”
She choked on a moan and clenched hard, but this time it wasn’t resistance—it was need.
“Almost there,” I murmured again, dragging my fingers back just enough before pushing in once more. “Now be a good girl and take what I give you.”
I watched her pretty hole strain as I began to pump my fingers in and out of her asshole. She cried and clawed the sheets, but she bucked her hips until she was fucking my fingers.
Exquisite.
I let her take what she needed before I gripped her hips and scissored my fingers inside her.
“You feel that stretch, baby?” I murmured, still working my fingers in a slow, relentless rhythm.
She whimpered, panting hard into the sheets, her hips twitching back for more.
“That’s it. Keep breathing. You’re doing so good for me.”
I pulled back, stroked her clit just once, and let her squirm. “Ready to take all of me now?”
Her gasp was barely a sound, but her body gave the answer—arching, open, begging.
I slid my fingers out of her, gripped her hip and shoulder, and rolled her onto her back.
Her chest heaved with every breath, eyes locked on the bulge in my boxers.
“It’s all yours, baby,” I said, dropping them to the floor before reaching for the lube.
She inched up the bed—not to escape me, but to spread herself wider, presenting that perfect ass and those lace-topped stockings like a goddamn invitation to sin.
I gripped myself hard, teeth clenched, because one more second staring at her like that and I was going to embarrass myself.
So I did the only thing that would pull me back from the brink.
I thought of Grammy. The look she gave me when I was ten and tried to skip Sunday service.
I cringed.
But it worked.
Barely.
I stepped between her thighs, staring down at her—laid out like a goddamn offering, lace-trimmed stockings framing the prettiest cunt I’d ever seen. Her eyes locked on mine, and she reached for me, but I caught her hand and pressed it gently to her belly.
“Leave it there,” I murmured. “I want you to feel every inch I give you.”
She sucked in a breath, nodding, lips parted in anticipation. I gripped myself, guided the tip to her opening, and dragged it through her slick heat—once, twice—just to watch her writhe.
“Kade—”
Her voice cracked on the plea, and that did it. I leaned forward, cock in hand, lined myself up—slow, careful—and eased in.
“Breathe,” I reminded her, kissing her cheek, then her jaw. “Nice and slow…”
The pressure was unreal. Tight heat clenched around me as I worked the tip past that first barrier. She whimpered—more overwhelmed than hurt—and I paused to let her catch her breath.
My hand never left her belly. She gripped my forearm with both hands now, eyes clenched shut.
