Page 37 of Her Age Gap Match

“Come here,” I said.

She obeyed—twisting around, crawling those few inches toward me…straddling me.

Hovering over my cock.

“Take me at your own pace,” I murmured. “If I fuck you like I want, I’m gonna lose my mind and I’m not gonna last long enough to get you off.”

She looked down at me with dark eyes and swollen lips and her red hair falling around her shoulders, and I put my hands on her hips and let her feel the weight of them—steadying, not directing.

Her choice. Her pace.

She reached down and positioned me and I felt the first contact and had to close my eyes for exactly one second.

Then I opened them, because I wasn't missing this.

She lowered herself slowly—an inch, then a pause, her breath catching, her hands braced on my chest. I kept my hands on her hips, loose, just there.

"Okay?" I said.

"You're—" She exhaled. "You're a lot."

"Take your time."

She took her time.

Another inch, slow, her head dropping forward slightly, her hair falling around us. I watched her face—the concentration, the pleasure fighting through it, the way her lip caught between her teeth when she found an angle that worked.

"There?" I said quietly.

"There," she breathed.

"Good." I smoothed one hand up her spine. "Keep going."

She kept going—gradual, working herself down onto me, her hips making small adjusting movements until she'd taken all of me and her exhale came out shaky and long and her forehead dropped to mine.

We stayed there for a moment. Just breathing.

I could feel her heartbeat.

Her pussy clenching every so often as she got used to me.

I wrapped my arms around her and said, “I’m gonna fall in love with you. Think I already did.”

Her words were labored, disjointed.

But she said: “I’ve loved you for a while.”

I wrapped my arms around her…wanted her to stay deep, just hitting every spot she liked. Buried my face against her throat, kissed her soft. “Fuck…Poppy…”

She moved slow at first—deep rolls of her hips, finding the rhythm, her hands braced on my shoulders. I kept my arms around her and let her set it, let her use me the way she needed, my face against her throat feeling her pulse.

She smelled like herself. That warm sweet thing. I was going to smell it on my skin tomorrow and I was going to think about exactly this.

"Johnny—" Breathless.

"I've got you," I said against her throat. "Just like that. Don't stop."

She didn't stop.