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Reaching over to my nightstand, I take a rubber from the top drawer, and she watches each of my movements intently. The nerves are radiating from her, and they sting me like barbs as I rip through the plastic and roll the latex over my shaft.
“What’s that?” She looks confused.
“It’s just protection,” I tell her softly as I can.
“Will it make it hurt less?”
She’s killing me… fucking killing me.
“No, but it’ll stop me giving you a kid,” I explain, letting myself imagine for just a split of a second what that might be like. I’ve never in my whole life thought about bringing a child into this world. That shit was way too far out of my reach. And I have to quickly remind myself that it still fucking is.
“Oh,” Lydia blushes, making embarrassment look cute as sin. “You scared?” she asks, swallowing nervously.
“Me? I’m terrified,” I answer honestly, letting my cock slip between her compact little seam. She brushes the hair that’s fallen into my eyes back with her fingers.
“I’m real happy it’s you,” she smiles at me, and I swear I feel my heart bleed out.
With one hand balanced over her head and my other gently guiding me to her entrance, I lower my head and take her lips again. Sucking her bottom lip between my teeth, I line myself up and prepare to push inside her.
I never look at a woman while I fuck ‘em, not ever. But with Lydia, I want to experience this with her. I want to watch her face as I fill her sweet unbroken hole. And that’s exactly what I do as I slowly edge inside her.
Her open mouth releases a tiny nervous breath and her eyes battle between looking down between us and looking up at me. The more I give her, the wider her eyes stretch. Witnessing that and the tight pocket I’m squeezed into is almost enough to have me blowing already.
I steady myself, take a breath, and give her a chance to adjust to me. She looks like she’s in pain, and I wonder if I should stop. Just as I’m about to ask her if she’s okay, her hands frame my face, forcing me to keep looking at her.
“I’m okay,” she promises like she’s read my mind. And so carefully, I push a little deeper, causing her fingers to dig into my cheeks and a low, painful moan to drag out of her throat.
Her unexplored tunnel clings to me tight, and I feel myself tense as I feed her more. When I finally sit fully inside her, I bury my head into her neck and close my eyes.
If I never make it to heaven, at least I can know I touched it.
She’s shaped for me now. Only me, and it feels like the most precious gift in this fucking world.
I move slowly inside her, making deep, steady rolls of my hips into hers. My hands move over her skin, and I feel guilty as hell for drawing so much pleasure from the pain I must be causing her. My fingers crawl up her neck, and I raise my head as they rest around her throat.
I can’t hold off any longer. Being inside her feels too good, and I’ve been imagining it for too long. My whole body tenses, and when I realize that I’m holding her throat, I quickly slide my hand away and grip the sheet beside her instead.
I groan low and deep as my cock pulses, and I release three weeks of pent-up, agonizing tension. Then I take a few seconds to soak in the sight of the girl who just gave me her everything.
I want so badly to give her something back.
I could admit to her that she’s my weakness, tell her that she has the ability to scare the soul from my body with just a look.
I could tell her that I love her, but that feels too much like a curse. The people I love get hurt, and I won’t allow her to be one of them.
“I swear you have my protection until the day I die,” I tell her, hoping it's enough. It’s a promise I know I can keep. The sky will fall down on this Earth before I let anyone hurt this woman again.
“I love you.” Her lips break into a smile, and I feel my heart crack in two. The damaged, broken half, still mine, and the good part that I thought I’d lost forever, now hers. Until the day she decides she doesn't want it anymore.
He says nothing when I tell him I love him. Just looks at me like the words hurt him. I don’t need to hear it back. What just happened between us is enough.
Screwy was gentle, and he took care of me just like I knew he would.
Did it hurt? Like hell. But I’m not about to tell him that.
We lie together for the longest time before he slides out of me and rids himself of the protection he put on himself. “What’s your real name?” I ask as he tucks me back into his body.
“It’s been a long time since anyone called me by my real name.” He laughs down his nose, and I decide that sound is my new favorite of his.
