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I sink inside her one inch, then two, so slowly, and the deepest, most male part of me revels in how her body reacts as she stretches to accommodate me.
She feels glorious. Made for me. So hot, clenching me so tightly I have little hope for lasting more than a few minutes. Gathering the shreds of my patience, I wait until the tiny frown on her brow smooths, until her body relaxes and her fingers clench urgently on my shoulders.
“God, Celeste. You feel…” I shake my head helplessly. “Like everything I’ve ever wanted all at once.”
Breath pants from her lips, her eyes wide and crazed with desire. With utmost care, I draw back, then sink inside her again. Deeper this time. I stop when she winces.
“Oh, fuck,” she whispers. “Tell me that’s all of it.”
My ego swells even as a breathless laugh leaves me. My forehead drops to hers. “Not quite.”
A soft whine leaves her throat. “Seriously?”
A grin still curling my lips, I give an experimental roll of my hips. Celeste gasps, then moans, the sound tingling down my spine and straight to my groin. Her sudden spike of arousal sends warmth gushing around my cock. I lose the fight, my body jerking forward to claim every last inch she has to give. Her back arches off the bed, nipples grazing my chest, a cry in her throat.
I kiss her forehead, her cheeks, and finally her open mouth. My tongue drags against hers as I suck down her little gasps. And when her hips do their own little swivel, her pussy fluttering around me, it’s all over.
I make love to her like I’ve always dreamed of doing, with everything in me. Everything I have to give.
She’s a storm beneath me. Writhing and meeting me thrust for thrust. Every time she whispers my name, it feels surreal. Like a dream. Like this can’t possibly be happening.
But it is.
Then she stiffens, whimpering and trembling, big, surprised eyes staring into mine as her pussy clamps down and pulses around me. A strained mewl escapes her.
“Fuck yes,” I growl, losing what little restraint I was hanging on to. I thrust once, twice. Fireworks ignite behind my eyes, blazing a path down my spine. A tidal wave of sensation slams into me and detonates at the place we’re joined.
I have no idea what comes out of my mouth—I only dimly hope it isn’t the words on repeat in my head. Lowering my face, I suck her tongue into my mouth. The kiss is sloppy and perfect. And for a few seconds, there’s nothing in the world that’s wrong. Everything is exactly as it should be.
Then, as I knew it would, something dark and painful crosses Celeste’s face. Guilt or regret or something equally fanged. Whatever it is, it launches like a serpent into my chest, slithering and tightening around my heart.
I pull out of her—probably too fast, as she gasps—and roll onto my back at her side. Before she can move away like I know she wants to, I roll again, trapping her with an arm over her stomach. I nuzzle her shoulder, kissing the sweat-damp skin, and send a silent prayer into the uncaring sky.
“Please,” I whisper. “Just a few more minutes.”
Her breath is short and choppy, her body growing stiffer by the second. That coil around my chest tightens again, nearly cutting off my air.
“We didn’t use a condom,” she gasps, her head whipping toward mine, eyes wide with horror.
Horror.
I swallow hard, my limbs turning as stiff as hers. “I got a vasectomy three years ago, and I’m clean. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. I’m—I got carried away.”
Shifting back, I sit up, swinging my feet to the floor. As my fingers trail down her leg and off her body, I wonder if I’ll ever get to touch her again.
Fabric rustles as she sits up. “Not your fault. Seriously. I’m equally responsible. I, uh… don’t have any STDs, either.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I see her sitting with her back to me, legs off the adjacent side of the mattress. I can’t decipher any emotion in her voice, which only hurts more. It’s detached. Empty.
Anything else would be preferable, even her screaming and crying.
But I knew. As much as some small part of me hoped this would end differently, I knew what I was getting myself into.
“Do you”—I swallow the lump in my throat—“want to stay?”
She’s still for a moment, then shakes her head. “Damien is at my parents’ house. I need to go.”
“Okay.”
