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My nod is frantic, but a giggle escapes. “You’re big.”
His smile is equal parts amusement and cocky satisfaction. “Why, thank you.”
“Not really a compliment at this moment,” I reply, wincing when he moves again.
His chuckle against my lips makes me smile. This isn’t what I was expecting it to feel like. Physically or emotionally. Sex had become such a big thing in my head. I thought it would be a painful, embarrassing, scary experience. I expected it to feel serious. And it does, but it’s still us, joking and laughing.
It’s sweet.
Sweat forms on his forehead and his struggle to hold back begins to show. “You feel so fucking good. Look at me, Ella.” He keeps his gaze locked on mine and buries himself fully in one firm stroke.
Oh fuck. He wasn’t even halfway in before.
A cry leaps out of me and my hands dig into his sides. For a second, I’m sure I can’t do this. It hurts.
His body remains still while he drops soft, reassuring kisses on my lips. “You’re okay. Try to relax, baby.”
I force my muscles to unclench, and he keeps kissing me as he starts moving again. With every stroke, the pain fades and soon, my hips move to meet his.
“Fuck yes, Ella. Does that feel good?”
My groan is my answer when he swirls his hips.
It’s better than good. Despite the slight burn that still accompanies our movements, it feels amazing. Everything about this moment is amazing. The expression on his face when he looks at me, the way he closes his eyes, his mouth dropping open. The vulnerability of feeling so much under his naked body and watching him draw the same pleasure from me.
I’ve never felt so alive. So real. The whole world could go to hell as long as I can stay here in a moment that belongs only to us.
Soreness grows, extinguishing any chance of another orgasm but I don’t care. I can’t take my eyes off him. His last few thrusts are harder, and I dig my hands into his ass, pulling him in. A deep groan rumbles against my neck when he comes, and he lies on top of me, recovering while I run my fingers over his damp back.
Finally, he props himself up and gazes down at me. Silence reigns. After a few seconds, he kisses me and the tenderness of it is indescribable. “Are you alright?” he asks.
How to answer? I’ll never be the same. Nothing could ever live up to that.
To him.
“I’m okay. That was…” Intense, emotional. A culmination of years that I’ve dreamed of him. That I’ve loved him. He doesn’t know how I feel, and I’m reluctant to tell him. It’ll only make things harder. “Fun,” I finally add, and he chuckles.
We get dressed and despite my best effort, tears fill my eyes. I try to blink them away but they won’t be denied.
“Hey,” he says softly, and pulls me into his arms. “What’s wrong? Do you regret it?”
“No. Not at all. I just…I’m going to miss you. I’m leaving on Sunday.”
He blinks and stares down at me. “What do you mean?”
“You know I’m going to college in Florida.”
“Right. In September. We have all summer and—”
“No. My parents found a house for me and Tori. A rental. They signed the lease, and we can move in anytime, so we’re going to spend the summer there. It’ll give us time to settle in, find a job. We might be back for Thanksgiving. If not, then it may be more than a year since my parents plan to visit for Christmas.”
“You’re leaving in two days?” he says.
All I can manage is a nod. “Will you miss me?”
I’m yanked into his arms and hugged tighter than I’ve ever been. He holds me for a long time, silently. His hand cups the back of my head, his thumb stroking my hair. “I’m going to take that as a yes,” I choke out.
“I’m sorry. I’m doing my best not to ask you to stay. To be happy you’re getting what you want, too.”
