His finger slides inside. Then another. Stretching me. The heat of his touch is almost unbearable. Not painful, but intense—like his body temperature extends to every part of him.
Hot enough that I feel claimed by it. Branded.
I rock against his hand, chasing the pleasure building in my core. His thumb finds the bundle of nerves above where his fingers work, and I cry out.
“That’s it,” he says. Voice rough. “Let me hear you.”
The pleasure coils tighter. My hips move without conscious thought, riding his hand. Desperate for more.
When his fingers curl inside me, I’m gone. The orgasm hits hard and fast. My body clenches around his fingers as pleasure floods through me in waves that leave me gasping.
He works me through it. Gentle now. Drawing out every last tremor.
When I finally come back to myself, he’s watching me with eyes that burn gold in the firelight.
“I want you,” he says. Simple. Direct. “All of you.”
“Yes,” I say, breathless. “Yes… now.”
He positions himself between my thighs. The broad head of his cock pressing against my entrance.
I’m slick enough that he could slide in easily. But he doesn’t. Just holds there, letting me feel the promise of what’s coming.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he says. “If I hurt you—”
“You won’t.”
He pushes forward. Just the tip. The stretch is immediate and overwhelming.
I gasp. Try to adjust. But his heat makes everything more intense. More.
He stills. “Mara?”
“I’m okay. You’re just—” I can’t finish. Can’t explain how full I feel, how the heat of him seems to radiate through my entire body. “Don’t stop.”
He moves. Slow. Careful. Giving me time to get used to his size, his temperature, the sheer overwhelming presence of him.
Then deeper.
My nails dig into his shoulders. My legs wrap around his waist, trying to pull him closer even though there’s nowhere left to go.
“God,” he breathes. “You feel—”
He can’t finish either.
Then he’s moving. Long, slow strokes that make me feel every inch of him. The drag and pull. The heat sinking into my bones.
I’ve never felt anything like this. This complete. This consumed.
His mouth finds mine again. Kisses that taste like desperation and need.
The pleasure builds. Not sharp and sudden, but rolling. Building in waves that make my breath catch and my body arch.
“More,” I gasp against his mouth. “Please.”
He obliges. His rhythm increasing. Thrusts coming deeper. The sound of skin on skin mixing with our ragged breathing and the crackle of the fire.
My world narrows to this. To him. To the heat and pressure and the way he fills me so completely there’s no room for doubt or fear or anything but sensation.
