Page 80 of Tracked and Taken

“I am, sweetheart.”

“Bigger than—“

“Yes. And you are going to take all of it.”

Her thumb traces up the ridges. Her eyes come up to mine. Mouth parted.

“You are going to ruin me for anyone else.”

“I know, sweetheart. That is the point.”

“That was not a question.”

I smirk in response as I watch her come to terms with the fact.

Her jaw tightens. Her chin comes up. The operational-command posture I have seen her deploy in Flossie’s office.

“Then ruin me, Tael.”

“Copy.”

She lines me up. The head of my cock notches against her. She sinks down at her own pace, slow — inch by inch, the ridges catching, her breath catching, her hand at my chest tightening.

She stops halfway.

Her eyes close.

“Give me a second.”

“Take it. Breathe. You can take me.”

“Tael — the ridges—“

“Every one of them is going to drag inside you when you move.”

She breathes. She sinks the rest of the way.

The sound she makes when I am in her to the hilt is a sound I am going to be hearing every quiet minute for the rest of my life. Tight. Hot. Perfect. I have to count breaths so I do not come immediately.

She stops. She breathes.

“You are filling—“

“I was built for you, Natalie. I told you. Your cunt was built to take this cock and you are going to prove it.”

Her hands flat against my chest. Her hips roll the first time — testing, the slight movement where her body is learning a new configuration. Her breath catches on the ridges. She rolls again. Harder.

She makes a sound.

“Oh — Tael—“

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Every time I move I—“

“I know.”

“Feel every—“