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But then he growls, like his resolve vanished at that first taste of my skin. And now he’s like an animal, lapping at me, grunting and moaning the way I do. Every sweep of his tongue takes me higher and heightens the tension building in my core. He’s invading me, making me his, making me sob with joy and unbelievable bliss.
“Please, don’t stop,” I beg, jerking my hips and grinding myself against his face. He likes that, so I do it again, and he rewards me by sucking on my nub, flicking the tip with his tongue. “Oh, god! Yes!”
I could sob with relief when the tension breaks and bliss rolls over me like a wave and pulls me under, where everything is sweet and warm and right. I’ve done that so many times alone, and it’s nothing compared to having a partner. The right partner.
The right partner who won’t stop kissing and touching, caressing and stroking. The scruff on his cheeks chafes my sensitive skin, but I welcome the sensation. I welcome it all. There’s so much I want him to show me.
“You taste so good.” There’s pure happiness in his smile as he crawls up the length of my body. “Taste yourself,” he invites before covering my mouth with his. His tongue slides between my lips, and I taste my juices on him. There’s something that feels so wrong about it, and somehow, that only makes me want more. More of him, more of this, more of everything. I run my fingers through his hair and hold him close, moaning into his mouth, wrapping my legs around him. I don’t know what I’m doing, really, I don’t, but my eagerness makes him groan before he grinds against me, still wearing his boxer briefs. He’s so hard, so big, and for the first time, a touch of fear leaks into the blazing heat, making my body go stiff for a heartbeat.
And he feels it. He breaks the kiss to look down at me with concern lurking in his dark eyes. “What is it? Tell me.”
Even if I didn’t want to, I would have no choice. I can’t resist him. “I’m a little nervous. This… this is my first time.”
“I had a feeling it might be.” He kisses me again, soft and sweet. “Do you trust me? Do you believe I’ll make it good for you? Because I would never do anything to hurt you.”
I believe him. A sense of peace replaces the fear, and I smile while running a hand down his cheek. “I trust you.”
“I promise, I’ll take it slow.” He reaches past me into the nightstand behind me and pulls out a foil packet. I watch, fascinated, as he unrolls the condom down his thick, unbelievably long dick. He’s huge. How am I supposed to take all of that inside me?
I can’t believe how much I want to try.
He settles between my legs again and goes back to kissing me. I want him inside me, but he waits, and soon I realize he’s easing me into it. Making sure I’m relaxed, and that I want him as much as he wants me. I don’t know how much more I possibly could; there’s a wet spot under me, and my pussy is pulsing rhythmically with every beat of my heart. I don’t know how much more I can take of this burning pressure before I have to beg him to fuck me.
The sudden pressure at my entrance makes me gasp, and all at once, I lift my hips, eager for more. “Take it easy,” he rasps, rolling his hips, teasing me.
“But I need you,” I whisper, dragging my nails across his muscular shoulders. “Please, take me. I want this so much.”
“Not as much as I do,” he promises, then pushes forward.
I suck in a gasp of surprise and pain, biting down on his shoulder to hold back my cries. He moves slowly, filling me inch by inch, stretching me until I don’t know if I want him to stop or if I want him to never stop because even the slight touch of pain has pleasure behind it.
“Are you okay?” he asks once he’s as deep as he can go, and his hips are settled against mine.
I open my eyes and see the concern in his. It lights up my heart. I think I might love him. “Yes.” I wrap my legs around him and hold him in place. “Yes, I’m okay.”
And then he starts to move, and I move with him, letting him set the pace, trusting him the way he asked me to. How did I go my whole life without this? Feeling connected, wanted, cherished.
His lips find my throat, and I throw my head back, gasping when he goes deep, so deep, pressing me into the mattress, whispering my name like it’s a prayer while his lips trace my throat, my shoulders, my jaw. How can such sweet kisses spread fire through me?
“Yes,” I whisper, because it’s the only word that runs through my head. Yes, I want this. Yes, I want you. Yes, this is good, this is right, this is where we’re meant to be. I’m more sure of it with every thrust, every time our bodies come together, with every kiss, and every time our eyes meet, and I get to watch him lose himself in me.
“You’re gonna make me come,” he whispers. Now he’s helpless; this strong, powerful man is helpless inside me. “Fuck, you’re so tight. I’m gonna come…”
I tighten my legs around him, jerking my hips to meet his strokes because I want to come, too. I need to. There’s nothing but pleasure now, deeper and more intense than before.
“Fuck, Sarah… You’re so good…” He buries his face in my neck, grunting, breathing faster, and the heat from his breath and the sound of his pleasure take me higher, so high, high enough that I would swear I’m flying before he slams himself deep one last time.
And just like that, fireworks explode behind my eyelids. Red, blue, green, and gold fill my head, bursting with every tremor that runs through my body. I clench around him, holding him tight, afraid of the intensity, afraid there’s something wrong with me for coming so hard. Am I broken? He’s probably going to think I’m ridiculous.
Nothing could be further from the truth. He pulls out, and I whimper in disappointment, but he doesn’t leave my side, wrapping me in his arms and almost rocking me the way he would a baby. Easing me through it, calming me down until reality comes back in, and I can think straight again.
Unfortunately, when I do, it isn’t the thoughts of how amazing that was that first enter my head.
It’s Grace’s warning. Now that we’ve done this, is he going to get bored? Is he going to decide he doesn’t need me just when I need him most?
8
MATTEO
