Beau stays perfectly still for a long moment, jaw clenched so tight I can see the muscle jumping. Then he opens his eyes.
“Okay,” he says at last, voice ragged. “But we do this my way. Slow. You tell me the second anything hurts, understand? Promise me.”
“I promise,” I whisper, brushing my thumb over his bottom lip.
He nods, pressing a soft kiss to my mouth before pulling back just enough to watch my face. One of his hands slides down togrip my thigh, opening me wider, while the other braces beside my head.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs. “Breathe for me, baby.”
He starts to push in, agonizingly slow, barely moving, giving me time to feel every thick inch. The stretch is immediate, intense, a sharp sting that makes me suck in a breath.
He stops. “Too much?”
I shake my head, nails digging into his shoulders. “Keep going. Please.”
Another shudder rolls through him. He eases forward again, rocking gently, letting me adjust. The burn is overwhelming, but beneath it is something deeper and sweeter. When he’s only halfway in, he pauses again, sweat beading on his temple.
“Talk to me,” he demands, voice strained. “Scale of one to ten, how bad?”
“Four,” I manage. “But it’s good too. Don’t stop.”
He groans like I just tortured him, then leans down to kiss me slow and deep while he works the rest of the way in, careful thrusts until he’s seated fully inside me and we’re both shaking.
“You’re so tight I can barely… you feel perfect. Tell me you’re okay.”
I nod frantically, tears pricking my eyes from the overwhelming fullness. “I’m okay. I’m so full of you. Move, please move.”
“Not yet,” he rasps. “Gonna stay right here until you relax around me. Just breathe, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
His thumb finds my clit again, circling gently, patiently, until the sting starts to melt into a deep, pulsing ache for more. Only when I’m rocking up against him, begging in broken little whimpers, does he finally start to move in careful strokes that make my vision blur.
“That’s it,” he praises, voice wrecked. “Taking me so beautifully. My perfect girl. Never letting you go.”
His thumb strokes my clit faster as another orgasm builds. “I can't?—”
“You can. Come for me… let me feel you.”
His voice, rough and commanding, pushes me over the edge. I come so hard I see stars, and he follows immediately, groaning my name as he fills me.
We collapse together, sweaty and satisfied, hearts racing. Comet scratches at the door, whining.
“Worst wingman ever,” Beau mutters, making me laugh.
“He waited until we were done. That's pretty considerate.”
“Should I let him in?”
“In a minute.” I trace patterns on his chest, feeling him still semi-hard inside me. “Again?”
“Already?” He looks down at me, amazed. “Greedy little thing.”
“Only for you,” I say, and feel him twitch inside me, already hardening again.
“You're going to be the death of me,” he groans, but he's already rolling his hips, starting a slow, devastating rhythm.
This time is different, more tender and intense. We stare into each other's eyes as we move together, and when we come, it's together, gasping into each other's mouths.
Later, after we've let Comet in and he's settled at our feet, I lie in Beau’s arms. The snow has finally stopped.
