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It’s exquisite. I feel filled—too full—and somehow in need of precisely that. I shift my hips again, and he moves his—so carefully at first, withdrawing slightly, stinging. Then his wide eyes burn mine, and he presses fully in again, his eyes closing. He makes a grunt-like sound…and I’m impaled. I’m simply stuffed full, all my nerve endings flashing like lightning and rolling like thick thunderclouds.
Light rolls through me—blazing, golden.
“Oh fuck. Fuck…” His body quakes above mine. His face twists. I feel his legs quake. He’s in so deep, I cry out at the pleasure of it. And then he draws out nearly all the way, his hand gripping my shoulder as he pushes back in.
“Oh!”
“Finley.” He’s out and then he’s plunging back in, tightening my belly, trembling my knees.
I can’t help a grunt as he draws out and repeats, filling me with so much pleasure, I fell near to bursting with it.
He groans, repeating the thrust two more times, until he’s buried fully in me. I feel heavy, something tugging at me. At the same time, I’m swelling. I’m starting to spark.
Then his hips begin to thrust more rhythmically. His eyes are shut tightly, his dark brows furrowed, full lips parted. Every time he fills me, I can feel it building. Pleasure rolls through me, lifting me up.
I feel when he’s near release—the frenzied pace, the way he fills me tighter. I’m groaning, grunting, grasping at my own tendrils of bliss.
I slam against him, crying, “Harder!”
He gives what I ask, and two more thrusts—
I scream as his chest comes low over mine. I can feel him trembling, then we’re panting; we’re both panting, and he’s dripping sweat. I’m weeping and he’s whispering, his voice rough and concerned. I’m kissing his salty shoulder.
“Did I hurt you?”
“Yes,” I laugh.
He lifts himself up, and I clench around him. My hand squeezes his hip.
“I like it,” I whisper drunkenly. “I like it.”
My awareness ebbs as he withdraws and moves off me. A rush of cold air sweeps my damp, prickling skin. Then his arms are coming beneath me. I’m being lifted. I’m held against his chest, and his eyes are on my face.
I can’t read his face as he strides into the bathroom, where he sets me on my feet in the cold tub and leans over to start the faucet. He uses his hands to direct the water away from me before it’s warmed up.
I smile at that.
His gaze swings to mine, and I find his blue eyes wide and cautious.
“What’s the matter?”
He gives me a funny little smile, but I can feel the tension underneath it. “Are you okay?”
“I’m lovely.”
I watch as he swallows. “Are you sure?” His voice is low.
“Yes.” I reach for him, my fingers gripping his forearm. “Get in with me.”
His eyes scan the tub.
“Get in. I don’t care how. I’ll sit on your lap.”
When he doesn’t move, I rise gingerly on my knees and wrap my arms around his neck. “Carnegie…” I kiss his cheek as he reaches down to put the stopper in the tub.
When he looks at me again, his face is gravely serious. I stroke his cheek and lean in close. “What’s the matter, darling?”
He won’t look at me.
