Page 89 of Peaches & Pistols

He pushes into me, giving me an inch, and retreating, giving me two, and leaving me empty. I’m writhing beneath him, desperate to be filled completely. My hips lift from the bed, trying to get more of him inside me.

“What does my good girl need?” he taunts.

“You. Please,” I whine.

“Please, what, Mia?”

“Please, sir. Fill me u—” Air is pushed from my lungs with the force he plunges into me.

The head of his cock slams against my cervix, and I gasp from the instant bite of pain. But he doesn’t relent, nor do I want him to.

I hook my legs around his waist, my feet lock behind his flexing back. He’s not going anywhere. The only place he’s going is deeper inside me until we both shatter.

“It’s never been like this for me. You feel so”—thrust—“fucking”—thrust—“good.”

It goes without saying it’s never been like this for me either, only with Greyson have I ever felt this loved and sexy.

“Oh my god,” I moan.

“No, honey. I’m the one inside your pussy making you feel like this.”

Greyson’s muscles are like steel beneath my wandering hands, sweat glowing on his skin from how hard he’s fucking me. Each thrust sends me higher, the head of his cock hitting a place inside me I’ve never been able to reach on my own.

His precise thrusts change pace and intensity. He’s losing control and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced.

“Touch yourself. Work that clit. I’m gonna come and I need you with me,” he grits out through clenched teeth, holding back his impending explosion.

My hand snakes between our sweaty bodies, and I make a “V” with my fingers sliding my clit between.

“Fuck. I can feel you fluttering around me. You’re so fucking tight.” His thrusts become erratic, and I know he’s close.

“Come. Fucking come, Mia.” His demand pushes me over the edge into bliss.

Hot spurts of cum fill me. He rolls to the side to avoid crushing me, his softening cock slips from my body, leaving me hollow.

“How do you feel?” he asks, once we’ve caught our breath.

“Safe.”

He's helped me find myself and build strength I’ve never had. He’s given me and my daughter safety and security we've never known.

My fingers trace the angles of his face, coarse stubble prickly against my fingertips. In the post-coital bliss, I feel like I can ask him something that’s been nagging at me.

“How did you get this scar?” I lightly brush the scar that hitches his lip.

He answers without hesitation, his trust in me shining as brightly as mine in him.

“After my dad died and Meredith remarried, we got into it over something inconsequential. My dad used to whoop my ass if I was being a little shit, but Meredith never laid a hand on me. But that day, she backhanded me, slicing my lip with her new engagement ring.” His mouth twitches at the memory, with no further indication he’s affected by it at all.

I place a tiny kiss to the scar and then pepper them over every part of his face, ending with his lips.

“Thank you for telling me.” I rest my head back on his shoulder and he draws me in closer to his body. “I love you.”

“I love you, Mia.”

The holes in my heart stitch closed, ready to hold his endless love.

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