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Her mind engaged, and she felt a flutter of panic as the blaze of lust flooded between her thighs. She knew all about the mechanics of sex, had spent years day-dreaming about this moment. But she’d never seen a naked man in the flesh before. Let alone a naked man who was fully aroused. And she hadn’t day-dreamed about anything quite that… She took a steadying breath, desire and panic twisting together in the pit of her stomach. Anything quite that enormous.
He grasped the foil packet off the bed, rolled on the latex sheath with ease and efficiency. She glanced up as he settled onto the bed beside her, dragged her easily into his arms, his erection now butting her thigh.
‘Hey, what’s this?’ he said, sounding puzzled and amused as he took her wrists, to lift her clasped arms away from her breasts. ‘Don’t get shy on me, now.’
She struggled to breathe, knowing she had to relax, or this would be a thousand times more uncomfortable. Should she tell him? That this was her first time? But then he dipped his head, captured one aching peak between his teeth, and she raised off the bed, pushing her body instinctively into the exquisite torture.
Don’t think. Just feel. And don’t tell him, or he may stop.
As her fingers fisted on the sheet, her body bowed by the renewed onslaught of sensation, she knew that, however painful the initial penetration, she didn’t want him to stop.
He explored her body with his tongue, his teeth, his lips. Suckling hard then drawing back, transferring from one breast to the other. His hand flattened against her belly. She bucked, shocked by the intensity of sensation rocketing up from her core as he cupped her, then discovered the slick burning nub. He circled and retreated, teasing her with fleeting caresses that took her to the brink but were never enough. She clung to his shoulders, sobbed out incoherent pleas for him to do more.
He gave a rough laugh. Then he touched, right at the heart of her. She opened her thighs, bumping against the knowing brush of his thumb, the nerves exploding.
She cried out, the orgasm cascading through her in strong, sure, wonderful waves.
Quivering, shaking, she kissed his cheek, laughed with delight, the rush of achievement, of abandon sensational as she floated in afterglow.
‘Thank you. Thank you,’ she murmured, tears of emotion, of joy sliding down her cheeks.
The sense of validation was triumphal. Sex was more wonderful, more fulfilling than her wildest fantasises, all she’d had to do was wait—for the right man to unlock the secret passion inside her.
‘You’re welcome.’ He chuckled, sounding surprised and amused. His brows drew together as he stared down at her in the moonlight. He touched his thumb to her cheek, lifted a drop. ‘That was quite a show. Do you always cry when you come?’
The inquisitive, vaguely mocking tone brought her sharply back to reality, the hazy joy clearing to be replaced with embarrassment. Appalled at how exposed she felt—and at how much she’d let him see.
This means nothing to him.
‘Not always,’ she lied. She choked out what she hoped was a frivolous laugh. ‘You’re good at that.’
He grinned, the flash of pride almost boyish. ‘Only good, huh?’ he said, clasping her hips in large hands and positioning her beneath him. ‘Let’s see if I can do better.’
She had a moment to tense, prepare for the devastating entry and then he plunged hard.
She cried out, the pain raw and shocking, as his girth thrust through the barrier of flesh.
‘What the hell?’ He reared back, stopped dead, the penetration so deep she could feel every inch. ‘Are you okay?’
She nodded, robbed of speech, the pain still raw, still brutal. ‘Don’t stop,’ she said, through gritted teeth, determined to bear it.
He cradled her cheek, still lodged impossibly deep. ‘Are you sure? You’re so tight.’
‘It’ll be all right in a minute,’ she said and prayed that it would be.
‘Relax,’ he murmured. ‘You’re tense.’ He stroked his hand down, pressed his thumb to the punch of her pulse. He didn’t move, didn’t thrust. And slowly the pain receded. To be replaced by an impossible pressure. He smiled down at her, and she wondered if he somehow knew.
‘Let’s see if we can go for better than all right,’ he said, then lifted her hips.
She sucked in a sharp, ragged breath as he settled deeper still. She gave a low groan, grateful when the pain didn’t return, even though the pressure increased. His forearm strained beside her head, the muscles of his bicep bunching and releasing, as he held his weight off her. Then he drew his other hand down. Delving into the curls at her core with expert fingers, he exposed the swollen nub and flicked it with his thumb. She jerked, thrusting against him, the sudden rub of intense sensation both exquisite and shocking.
He continued to play, continued to circle and rub and flick until slowly, gradually, the swell of pleasure built again, unstoppable, unrelenting this time. The pressure then turned to a new exquisite pain as he began to move at last, rubbing some spot so deep inside, the pleasure intensified. She moaned, gripping his bicep to anchor herself and moved too, meeting the expert thrust of his hips with her own untutored movements.
She heard his harsh grunts against her ear. Felt him swell to even greater proportions, the fullness of his penis triggering a brutal, pulsing series of contractions that rolled over her. Then shattered, shooting her into oblivion.
Feeling, sensation, sanity returned in tiny incremental bits and pieces. The ragged pants of his breathing rasping in her ear, the musty scent of sex and sweat overlaying the clean fresh scent of rainwater and him, the muscled shelf of his shoulder resting on her collarbone, the large, but softening column of his erection still impaling tender flesh.
‘Damn.’ His low murmur cut through the silence. ‘That was good.’ He sounded as dazed, as disorientated as she.
