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“Ah, like that? You’re so simple, Prescott.”
A chuckle escapes him as he speeds up. And then I feel it, something close to pleasure and a moan escapes me.
“That’s it, baby,” he urges, his mouth hanging as he brands his touch to memory and burns his name across my heart. That term strikes me deep, and then I’m in a haze, drunk on his rhythm, soaking up the feel of his eyes hot on me.
I’d be his personal whore to keep this feeling. No wonder women make this a bad habit. I can see the appeal.
Moaning again, I thrust up to meet him and regret it because of the resulting pain, when he curses, drunk on pleasure.
My moans spur him on as I tighten myself, wrapping around him and he loses control.
He burns through me, knocking us both into orbit an inch past blissful oblivion, his eyes opening as if in shock as he convulses and pants out his orgasm. And then he’s kissing me, so long and so hard that I fight for breath. His lips cover every inch of my face, my neck, trailing down and laving one nipple then the other before he collapses in a heap on my stomach.
A smile graces my lips as I stare at the blades of the fan on his ceiling.
It was pleasure and pain, worship and consummation.
In head and heart, it was my first time, and it was perfect.
Lance, now a pile of hair and muscle on my chest breathes out his contentment as I run my fingers through his hair.
“Well, that’s one way to lose your virginity.”
His body bounces slightly against mine.
He rests his chin on my stomach, peering up at me while he massages my sides. “You okay?”
“Stop asking me that, this has been done before.”
“Just don’t want you hurting.”
“Well, I didn’t realize your dick was that big.”
A loud laugh erupts from him, and he pulls away to gaze down at me, his lips smiling, his eyes filled with a mix of scold and concern. “Stop making jokes.”
“I don’t know what else to do.”
“How about telling me if you’re hurting.”
“Hell, yes, I’m hurting.”
He winces. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” I say softly.
He holds himself above me his face glistening with the aftermath—a drop of sweat sliding down his temple. “Harper, that was a gift you gave me.”
“Was it? It seemed kind of awkward.”
His laugh rumbles through his words. “Stop making jokes.”
“Stop giving me material.”
“You can play off of anything.” His gaze rakes over me. “This is where you’re supposed to let the hormones kick in and get emotional.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
His grin widens as he presses a gentle kiss to my lips and moves to exit the bed. “I’m going to get us some food and water.”
