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I unfolded from the bed, let the sheet go and walked across the room toward him. “I’m not scared and I’m not worried. Vincent, you’ve already been inside me for months emotionally.” I placed my hands on his chest, his heartbeat steady and strong beneath my palm. “Now, I want you inside me physically.”
He reached for me, his arm around my waist, dragging me up against him before his mouth crushed mine. It was hard and yet warm and lazy at the same time. As if he was trying to be gentle, but parts of him refused to bend to that need.
My tongue slipped inside his mouth and I tasted him, the sweetness that I had craved. The love I’d been denied for most of my life. I finally felt it with everything there was between us.
He kissed my neck and I moaned, tilting my head back. Not long ago, I’d imagined him doing this. It was safe. I never felt that in my life until Vincent gave it to me.
“Okay?” I asked as he continued to kiss along the base of my neck.
“Okay.” He drew back. “I haven’t been with anyone and I’m clean, been checked. You’re not on anything?”
I shook my head. I hadn’t been since I escaped. “I was checked, too.” Kat had taken me after I’d escaped.
“Get in bed.” I did and he walked into the bathroom where I heard a drawer open and close. He came back out with a square package between his teeth, which he ripped open.
I watched as he undid his jeans and dragged them down his hard muscled thighs that had a spattering of fine hairs, just enough to be manly. I thought he was going slowly on purpose because Crisis had experience, lots of experience and there was no way it would normally take him this long to take off his pants and roll on a condom. He was either doing it for me so I had time to change my mind and run or it was the simple fact that Crisis was a stage junky and he liked attention. And right at that moment, he was getting it. I stared at him handling his cock in his one hand as it jutted out from his body. He jerked on it once and my breath caught in my throat.
His head was down; watching what he was doing, but I noticed a tiny smirk on his lips. He ran his hand up and down his cock several times before he slowly rolled on the condom.
By then, I was throbbing and ready for him again. Shit, I was ready for him again right after my first orgasm.
He stalked toward me then put one knee on the mattress and the springs squeaked. He straddled my waist, his hands sliding around to my back where he unhooked my bra and slipped it off.
“Lie back, sweetie.”
I did. Pain was always associated with a cock. Pain and humiliation. But I also never gave those men my submission. They never had me; maybe physically, but I numbed out to them. They became the objects.
But Vincent was real and I wanted to feel him—every part of him. I reached between us wanting to feel the one thing that I’d always hated. I was a little disappointed he’d already put the condom on, but still it exuded power. And soon pleasure. I knew it. There was nothing in our way anymore.
My fingers touched the spattering of hairs that led down to his cock and he tensed above me, his mouth hovering above my right nipple. And then at the same time as my hand wrapped around him, he latched onto my nipple.
He swore beneath his breath with my breast in his hand, my nipple between his teeth, while I moaned at the swell of him in my palm. It jerked and I tightened my grip.
“Fuck, baby.” He cupped my chin and kissed me, his other hand teasing my erect nipple, from pinching to caressing to a light-feathered touch. “Jesus. Never been like this. Never.”
I slid my hand down further until I cupped his balls in my hand. I gently rolled them, my thumb caressing the delicate surface.
“Fuck. Stop.” Crisis jerked upwards. “I’m going to come and I want to do it inside you.”
I smiled and he reached between us, pulled my hand away. He grabbed his cock and settled it between my legs. “Going to ask one more time.”
I lifted my hips toward him and looped my arm around his neck and dragged his mouth back to mine where I murmured. “Fuck me, Vincent.”
His kiss deepened and then there was a slight pressure as the tip of his cock pressed into me. I closed my eyes, tilted my head back and relaxed my legs while he trickled kisses down the length of my neck. He pushed a little deeper before he stopped.
“Open your eyes.” I did. “I want you looking at me the first time I sink inside you. I want you to know it’s me.”
“Okay,” I whispered.
His hands weaved with mine above my head, him partially inside me and not moving. Our eyes locked on to one another. It was a moment of shifting pieces, like they were moving around inside both of us and we were waiting until they connected and found one another.
My lips parted. So did his.
Then he thrust and sank deeply, the pieces fitting together perfectly.
“Vincent.”
“Say it again.”
“Vincent.”
He pulled out then pressed into me slowly, ground his hips and repeated. My legs wrapped around his hips and he sank further into me on his next thrust.
“Fuck, baby. I can’t last long. I’ve waited so long for this.” His face contorted as if he was concentrating and maybe in pain. I reached up, curved my arm around his neck and pulled him down, so his weight was on top of me.
“Harder,” I said into his ear. “Faster.”
He groaned as he moved up onto his hands on either side of me, then shoved harder, faster and his body kept hitting my sex when he thrust, sending waves of pleasure through me.
