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One. Go.
Every inch of his huge cock is in me at once and it’s deep. So fucking deep that I whimper and gasp, and my insides feel like they’re tearing apart.
Because I think they are.
Holy shit. The sting hurts so good. It hurts better than I imagined. All the stories I’ve heard about this moment are nonsensical. They said it would hurt like you want to die or cry, and I do want to cry, but for an entirely different reason than pain.
Like how ethereal it feels, how full, how deep and right.
Nate doesn’t seem to share my thoughts, because he freezes, like completely, even though he’s breathing harshly and heavily. And his eyes, the color of darkness, widen a little as they stares into mine.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” His curses start low, then grow in volume. “You’re a virgin?”
“I don’t think I am anymore.”
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me, Gwyneth?”
“I didn’t believe it mattered.”
“Of course, it fucking matters. I wouldn’t have fucked you against the wall for your first time. I would’ve been gentle.”
“I don’t like it gentle.” I stroke the strand of hair that’s fallen over his forehead. “I like it exactly the way you do—rough and unapologetic.”
“You don’t even know what the fuck rough means.” He’s rocking his hips a little, thrusting slowly, and holy mother of all things, the bursts of pleasure running through me is too intense to handle.
“You can teach me. I love it when you do.” I rock my hips, too, and that makes him pick up his pace a little.
“Are you in pain?” One of his hands snakes behind my back and the other holds my hip so tight that his fingers are digging into my skin. I think he’s pining for patience to not take me as hard as his cock is ordering him to right now.
“I’m not.” I go down on his cock a few more times. “So don’t take it easy on me and don’t even think about holding back. Give me all of you.”
“Fuck this.”
And just like that, he does. He gives me all of him.
He moves inside me with deep, slow thrusts at first and I cry out at how good it feels, how damn full.
And then it’s faster and my body feels like it would fall if it weren’t for the firmness of his grip that keeps me chained to him.
Each stroke is so delicious and sensual, and I want to keep soaking it all in. His thrusts, the power in his shoulders, and even my long moans and slow whimpers.
But I can’t, because I can feel the savage building of the climax about to pull me under.
“A virgin.Fuck.” He grunts against my chest, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking on it, then biting until I’m about to crumble here and now. “Why are you a fucking virgin, Gwyneth?”
“I didn’t want to…have sex…” I don’t know how I’m speaking with all the things going on inside me. Everything is just too raw and heightened.
“Why?”
“I didn’t find the right one to give it to.”
“You didn’t, huh?”
“No.” And I think, deep down, I was saving it for him. I wanted him to be the first man to explore that part of me, but I don’t say that. Ican’t.
“But I came along and took it anyway, didn’t I?”
“You did.”
