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Proud.
Panting.
She fell apart, coming with my lips still around her clit.
Once she was begging for mercy, I stood and wiped her come off my face with the back of my hand before teasing her pussy with my cock.
“Tristian…” She wiggled her hips. “Please. I need you—”
I filled her to the hilt, pulling out only to thrust back in. I began with a rhythm that had her screaming my name instantly.
Moaning.
Groaning.
Scratching.
Thrusting.
Harder and harder.
Faster and faster.
Her first kiss was mine.
Her first love was me.
Her first fuck.
Her first and only heartbreak.
The first man to love her wholeheartedly.
She was stretched out beneath me, her blonde hair splayed across the white sheets, her lips parted as sexy, uncontrollable moans escaped her swollen lips.
I’d caused that.
I moved again, realizing that for the first time in my life, I had everything I wanted.
Needed.
Couldn’t live without.
The feel of her heat tightening around my dick, sucking me dry, had to be one of the best feelings in the world. I used to ignore the women I slept with. With Belle, I couldn’t help but want to remember every tiny, little detail, the way her fingers dug into my back, the way she clawed, moaned, and panted.
I gripped her leg and pulled completely out of her, only to sink back home.
“I don’t want this to end,” I whispered as we locked eyes. The world felt small.
Only two people existed.
Me and her.
Our pleasure.
The joining of our bodies.
Minds.
