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Oh. Right. Safe sex.
After all my thinking that I was a clever, put together woman, I had completely forgotten about protection. Thank God Mr. Fitzgera- Fitz- was experienced enough to keep his head about him.
But if he had a condom, that meant that it was about to happen, right?
He posted himself on his knees, his thighs on either side of my hips and his length was bobbing against my soft, round stomach. I didn’t think it was possible, but it looked even more angry and needy than it had before.
I swallowed several times, not sure what to think, and then Mr. Fitzgerald’s gaze found me again.
“Is this alright?” he asked, pausing with the golden foil packet still in hand.
I looked from him to his erection, which was practically weeping for me. It made me feel a little intimidated, but at the same time a little powerful. I had done that to him, just by virtue of being attractive.
Wow.
“Isn’t it, uh,” I scrambled to find my words again. Geez, I missed the day when I was eloquent and snarky. “… a little big?”
He grinned wryly at that. “It’s above average.”
“And it’ll fit?”
“If we’re careful,” he answered, his voice strained. “We don’t have to, though.”
“But you’re already like this!” I objected.
To my great surprise, he just shrugged. “My state doesn’t matter. You’re allowed to change your mind at any time and I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”
I looked up at him in wonder. “What about blue balls?”
“A myth made up by weak men who have to pressure women to have sex with them rather than finding a willing partner.”
I found myself swallowing harshly again. “You’re a lot more understanding than anyone else who’s tried to get into my pants.”
He almost growled at that and suddenly he was kissing me again. When he pulled away from me, he looked so solemn that I wondered what I had said wrong.
“Then none of those men deserved to even look at you. You owe your body no one, not me, not them. That’s what makes sex so intimate. It’s a choice between two people, not something you owe someone or a transaction.” He kissed me once more as if he was trying to make sure I got it. “That’s why it makes me so hot that you chose to share this with me.”
“Oh,” I murmured, his words making me flood my panties yet again. “I think I’m ready.”
“You think?” he murmured ruefully.
“I am ready.”
He nodded and sat back up again, tearing the little packet open with his teeth. I was still a bit too embarrassed to watch him put it on, so I closed my eyes until I felt something pressing against my entrance.
…it felt a whole lot bigger than two fingers. My eyes flew open in worry but then he was doing that thing where he kissed me all over again.
“Just breathe for me, sweetheart. Breathe and relax.”
I tried to do as he said, but each time his hips slid forward it felt like he was trying to shove a soda can into me. The stretch was intense, and the burn was something else. I’d always had a high pain tolerance, but this was something else entirely. Something that made my toes curl and my heart skip a few beats.
But the thing that kept me going was that it would only take a single word and I knew Fitz would stop right then and there. He wouldn’t pressure me to keep going, he would just listen and pull out and then that would be that.
I held onto that idea as he kept going, pushing in bit by bit, the lubrication my body provided helping out a whole lot. I only let myself focus on breathing until finally, he stopped, his hips flushed to mine.
“That’s it, baby girl, you’re doing so good for me. So good.”
He held himself still above me and for a moment I didn’t understand why, but then he gave a little rock of his hips that caused a wave of discomfort through me.
“Ow,” I murmured.
“It’s okay, sweetheart, just let yourself adjust. I won’t move again until you’re ready.”
And the crazy thing was I absolutely knew that he wouldn’t. He would wait there until the world ended if I made him.
And that idea was so utterly intoxicating that I felt myself relax.
Sure, the feeling of being stretched wide open was weird. Alien. Uncomfortable. But with each second that passed, with each kiss that he pressed to my skin, I felt that pinch turn around until it was something else entirely.
I couldn’t say how many minutes had passed, a handful, maybe more, but after long enough there was a strange sort of need in me. Like I had been filled but that wasn’t enough. It wanted movement. I wanted stimulation.
“Please,” I whispered, unsure to communicate exactly what it was that I wanted. But Fitz seemed to get in instantly and slowly pulled backwards.
