A wide, unrestrained smile breaks free on his face. “I thought you’d never ask,” he exhales. And she wonders suddenly how many years it’s been since anyone saw him smile like that.
He grips her hips, spreading her legs wide, and pulling her high so her pussy lines up with his cock.
He glides his hand down the length of her leg, and hooks it over his shoulder like a man who knows exactly what he’s doing.
Surprise blooms in Seren’s chest, but so far, Teddy has read her body like poetry. She trusts him.
His mouth drags along her leg, pressing hungry kisses into her bare flesh. Then his gaze turns to hers. “Ready?” he checks.
She nods decisively.
He holds her hip firmly with one hand, and grips his cock in the other. He presses it to her entrance, and pins her in place with his stare. Teddy does not look away as he guides himself into her.
The world narrows to that point of contact—heat, breath, the slow inevitability of what she has chosen.
The stretch of him borders on pain, and she sucks in a sharp breath.
“Slow your breath,” he encourages, moving slowly, reverently, pressing another worshipful kiss to her leg.
She draws in a long inhale, and lets it out in equal measure. She allows herself to let go, to loosen her muscles, to soften into trusting him.
His cock slides deep, filling her completely. The stretch is overwhelming for a heartbeat—then something inside her shifts, opens, accepts.
“Fuck,” she breathes, the words slipping past her lips.
He watches her, noticing everything.
As he always does.
“Touch yourself,” he instructs. “Touch your clit with your fingers until you find a rhythm you like. It’ll help you relax around me.”
Seren follows his instruction, resting into his guidance.
Her fingers make contact with her clit, and she mirrors the movements he made with his tongue. Steady, rhythmic friction.
A breath slips from her lips, long and slow and surrendering. And his cock slides in.
“That’s my girl,” he groans. “You feel so good wrapped around me, Seren.”
Gods, she melts under his praise.
Her thighs widen, desperate for every inch of him to fill her. Her fingers work her clit, and her hips begin to rock, pulling him deeper.
He smiles at that.
“That’s it. It’s just instinct,” he says, and he moves his hips gently.
Seren sucks in a sharp breath at the sensation. “You moved,” she observes.
He huffs a laugh. “Would you like me tokeepmoving?” he asks.
“Gods yes,” she answers instantly.
And he does.
His hips grind in slow, gentle thrusts. Her hips rock in time with his. A dance. Bodies moving in mirrored rhythms. Instinct and intuition.
“And now, canItouch your clit?”
