"I need you," he growled against my lips, his hands sliding under my borrowed shirt, palms hot against my skin. "Need to feel you. All of you."
He pulled the shirt over my head in one smooth motion, leaving me bare in his lap. His eyes darkened as he looked at me, pupils dilating until only a thin ring of gold remained.
"Beautiful," he breathed, his hands cupping my breasts, thumbs brushing over nipples that were already hard and aching. "So fucking beautiful."
I arched into his touch, a whimper escaping my throat. Heat pooled low in my belly, wetness gathering between my thighs. I'd never felt need like this—raw and consuming and absolutely overwhelming.
"Please," I gasped, not even sure what I was begging for.
He knew.
His mouth closed over one nipple, hot and wet, tongue circling before he sucked hard enough to make me cry out. His hand worked the other breast, rolling and pinching, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core.
I ground against him, feeling his cock slide against my wetness, the friction making us both groan.
"Fuck," he breathed, his control visibly fraying. "You're so wet for me already."
"Yes," I panted, my hips moving of their own accord, seeking more pressure, more friction, more everything. "Please, Ahrick, I need—"
He lifted me with ease, turned us, laid me back on the bed. His body covered mine, all that powerful muscle and heat pressing me into the mattress. I felt every inch of him—the hard planes of his chest, the ridges of his abdomen, and his cock, thick and hard, pressing against my entrance.
"Are you sure?" he asked one more time, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Once we do this—"
"Yes." I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "I want this. I want you. All of you."
He kissed me again—deeper this time, slower, like he was trying to pour everything he felt into this one moment. His hand slid between us, fingers finding my clit, circling with just the right pressure.
I gasped, my back arching off the bed. "Oh god—"
"So responsive," he murmured against my throat, his fingers moving lower, sliding through my wetness. "So ready for me."
He pushed one finger inside, then two, stretching me, preparing me. I was already trembling, already so close to the edge just from his touch.
"Please," I begged, my nails digging into his shoulders. "I need you inside me. Now."
A low growl rumbled through his chest. He positioned himself at my entrance, the head of his cock pressing against me, and then—
He pushed inside.
Slowly.
Agonizingly slowly.
Stretching me. Filling me. Claiming me.
I cried out, my body adjusting to his size, to the overwhelming sensation of being filled so completely. He was big, and the stretch burned in the best possible way.
"Breathe," he commanded, his voice rough. "Relax for me."
I tried, forcing my muscles to loosen, and he slid deeper. Inch by inch. Until he was fully seated inside me, our bodies joined completely.
"Fuck," he groaned, his forehead pressed against mine. "You feel incredible. So tight. So perfect."
I felt it then—that thread of connection we'd been building since the moment we met.
It pulled tight.
Sang.
