I’m so tempted to wriggle all over his lap, but I don’t want to ruin this moment. Don’t want to be responsible for ending this too soon. And the stretch, the overwhelming size of him is sending my head spinning.
The last thing I want to do is move.
Tightness seizes my chest, an ache growing as I realize the line we’ve crossed. The depth and velocity of what lies between us after just three short weeks.
And it must be etched all over my face...
“Breathe, baby.” Quin’s hands cup my face. “It’s just you and me.”
I nod, but the oxygen seems to have evaporated from the room.
“Celeste, we can stop. You tell me, and we stop.”
How badly I want to tell him it’s me, not him. It’s my bundles of insecurities, history of bad decisions, and inability to see things through that haunt me in this moment. This moment that should be beautiful, freeing, and just between us.
“Baby, you gotta talk to me,” he rasps.
“I—”
I draw in a shuddering breath, and the slight motion has him twitch inside me. Lighting me up from the inside like nothing before.
Hands grip my face. “Beautiful, you’re scaring me. I need to know what’s going on in this head of yours.”
“I don’t... I can’t—” I close my eyes briefly before studying his face. “It’s only been three weeks, but I feel—you feel like...”
I’m terrible at this stuff. Always have been.
“I feel like what?” he says softly.
“Home.” The word breaks, and the relief that floods his face has my own bunching up as tears swell.
Shit.
“God, baby, I had no idea how much I was missing until you showed up in this tiny little town. Now I don’t think I can go without.”
Mostly recovered from the realization of who this man is to me, I try my luck and wiggle my hips, just a little bit.
“Ah, fuck,” he groans.
“I really want to move,” I whisper.
His head ducks as he plucks a nipple through his teeth. “Mhmmm.”
I take the initiative and rise on my knees a little. My mouth falls open as I feel every inch of him. Teeth tighten around my peak, a groan slipping past his lips.
“Qui—”
My back meets the bed, and the air puffs from my chest. Rough hands haul my hips upward toward his, and he has me spread wide. One deep, incredible thrust, and he’s sunk to the hilt again. “Fuck, CC... You’re tight, so fucking wet, and goddamnmine.”
Every punishing thrust has my pussy clenching tighter around him. The way this man goes from sweet and sensitive to demanding and filthy-mouthed is a delight.
And I’m so here for it.
“God, we are incredible. You take my cock so fucking well, Celeste.”
He brushes a thumb over my clit, and I arch off the bed, shoulders digging into the mattress. I clamp down around his cock, unable to stall the imminent orgasm building.
“Not yet, beautiful.”
