Page 15

I took my time. Long, slow strokes from the bottom of her slit to the swollen bud at the top, circling it carefully, never too rough. Every time she tried to close her legs I held them open with firm hands, murmuring praise against her wet flesh. "That's it... let me feel you." Her fingers found my hair, not pushing away, just holding on. The tension in her body began to change—shoulders dropping, breath coming in shorter pants. Shame was still there, but it was cracking, letting something hungrier through. When I sealed my lips around her clit and sucked gently, her hips lifted off the bed with a broken cry.

I kept going until she was rocking against my mouth, small involuntary movements that told me she was starting to chase the sensation instead of fighting it. Only then did I rise, shedding my own clothes with quick efficiency. Her eyes dropped to my cock as it sprang free, thick and flushed, and a flash of pure panic crossed her face. I stretched out over her again, bracing on one forearm so I wouldn't crush her, and kissed the fear from her mouth.

"We're going slow," I promised. "You tell me if it hurts too much and I stop. Understand?"

She nodded, voice barely a whisper. "Okay."

I reached down, guiding the head of my cock to her entrance, sliding it through her folds to coat myself in her wetness. The first press inward was pure torture—hot, impossibly tight, resistance immediate. I gritted my teeth and pushed only the tip inside, stopping the second I felt her body clamp down. Her eyes squeezed shut, a sharp inhale cutting through the quiet.

"Breathe for me," I said, kissing the tears that slipped free. "How does it feel?"

"Tight... it burns a little." Her voice shook.

"I know. Just the head. We'll wait."

I stayed there, barely inside, kissing her cheeks, her eyelids, the corner of her mouth, until the rigid grip of her body eased a fraction. Then I pressed deeper, another inch, then another, watching every flicker of pain and wonder on her face. The squeeze around me was vicious, velvet heat that made my vision blur at the edges. I locked my jaw and forced myself to stop again when I was halfway home.

"Talk to me," I rasped. "Still with me?"

"Yes... it's full. So full." Her nails dug into my shoulders.

I rocked the smallest amount, letting her feel the stretch without forcing more. Sweat beaded along my spine. The urge to drive in hard and bury myself to the hilt was a living thing under my skin, but I held it down with pure will. Another careful thrust gained me more ground. She whimpered, then the sound changed—half pain, half something softer. When I finally seated myself completely, hips flush against hers, we both froze.

The pulse of her walls around me was rhythmic, almost frantic. I kissed the tears from her lashes and stayed motionless, giving her time.

"How is it now?" I asked, voice rough.

"Crowded... but the burning is fading." Her eyes opened, dazed. "You're... everywhere."

I began to move then, the shallowest of strokes, dragging out only an inch before sliding back in. The friction was devastating. Every withdrawal made her flutter around me; every return forced a soft sound from her throat. I kept the pace glacial, watching the way her expression shifted—brow furrowed, then smoothing, lips parting on quieter gasps. My hands framed her face so she had nowhere to look but at me.

"That's it," I murmured. "You're taking me so well."

Her body answered before her voice did. The death-grip loosened by degrees. Wetness slicked the way, easing the slide until each thrust went deeper, smoother. I angled my hips, searching, and found the spot that made her jolt. A broken moan spilled out of her. I stayed right there, grinding in short, controlled strokes that rubbed that sensitive place over and over. Her legs came up around my waist, hesitant at first, then locking tighter.

The change in her was electric. Shame still lingered in the flush of her cheeks, but her hips had started to meet mine, small upward rolls that chased the pressure. I rewarded every movement with a deeper kiss, a low word of praise. The satisfaction that rolled through me had nothing to do with the raw need in my cock and everything to do with the way she was unfolding under me—tight body softening, shy sounds turning into open moans, eyes half-lidded and focused on my face as if she couldn't look away.

I kept asking. "Feel good?" "Still okay?" "Want more?"

Each time she answered with a breathless yes or a nod, something fierce and protective twisted in my chest. I reached between us, found the swollen bud of her clit with my thumb, and circled it in time with my thrusts. Her reaction was instantaneous—thighs clamping hard, a sharp cry that turned into a continuous, shaky moan. The walls around my cock fluttered wildly.

"That's it, little rose. Let it happen."

I watched her climb, every muscle drawing tight, back arching off the mattress. When the climax hit her it was almost silent at first—just a long, trembling inhale—then her whole body seized and she cried out, pulsing hard around me in rhythmic waves. The sight of her coming undone, eyes wet, mouth open, hips jerking helplessly against mine, snapped the last thread of my control.

I drove in deeper, still careful of her but no longer holding back the force of my own release. The tight, wet grip of her orgasm milking me was too much. I buried my face in the curve of her neck, hips snapping once, twice, and then I was coming hard, spilling deep inside her with a guttural groan. Pleasure ripped through me in long, pulsing surges that left my arms shaking.

I stayed buried, breathing ragged against her ear, the aftershocks still twitching through both of us. My voice came out rough, almost wrecked.

"Look at that," I whispered, lips brushing the shell of her ear. "You came so hard for me. See? You like being fucked by me. Your body doesn't lie."

❦ ❦ ❦

The bedroom was thick with the heavy, unmistakable scent of sex.

Little rose had collapsed into sleep, her hand still unconsciously gripping my arm like a child seeking security.

I pulled back the covers and carried her to the bathroom. Warm water streamed over her honey-colored body.