"Gods, Primsyn. You feel..." I can't find words adequate to describe it.
Her legs tighten around my waist. "Move. Please move."
I pull back slowly, then thrust forward again. Finding a rhythm that lets her body adjust, watching her face for any sign of pain. But all I see is pleasure, her eyes dark and unfocused, her lips parted as she pants.
"Harder," she demands after a few moments. "I'm not going to break."
Something breaks inside me at those words. My control, already hanging by a thread, unravels completely. I pull almost all the way out and slam back in, the force of it making her cry out.
"Yes!" Her back arches, pressing her breasts against my chest. "Like that. Exactly like that."
I set a brutal pace, driving into her over and over. The bed frame creaks beneath us, the headboard banging against the wall. Anyone on this floor will know exactly what we're doing, but I can't bring myself to care.
All that matters is this. Her body beneath mine. The sounds she's making. The way she says my name like a prayer.
"Touch yourself," I growl. "I want to feel you come around my cock."
Primsyn's hand slides between us, her fingers finding her clit. I can feel the movement of her hand as she works herself, can feel the way her body clenches tighter around me in response.
"Oliver, I'm close. So close."
"Get there!" I drive deeper, changing my angle slightly, and she shatters.
Her orgasm crashes through her, her body convulsing around mine, milking my cock. The sensation is too much, too intense. I feel my own release building at the base of my spine, unstoppable.
"Primsyn!" Her name is torn from my throat as I pull out and crawl up to thrust into her mouth, spilling my seed deep in her throat. Wave after wave of pleasure rolls through me, so intense it borders on pain.
I collapse beside her, both of us gasping for breath. My heart is hammering so hard I'm sure she can feel it. Her arms come around me, holding me close, and I let myself have this moment.
When my breathing finally slows, I start to pull away, but her arms tighten.
"Stay," she whispers. "Just for a little while."
So I do. I roll her, pulling her into me so we're tangled together. Her head rests on my chest, her hair spilling across my skin. My hand strokes up and down her back, soothing, gentling.
"That was..." she starts, then trails off.
"Yeah," I agree, because I don't have words for it either.
We lie in comfortable silence for several minutes. The gravity of what we just did hasn't fully hit yet, but I can feel it hovering at the edges of my consciousness.
"I should go," Primsyn finally says, but she doesn't move.
"Probably." I tighten my arm around her waist. "But you won't."
"No. I won't." She tilts her head up to look at me. "I should regret it."
"But you don't."
"No." She traces patterns on my chest with her finger. "I don't. And that terrifies me."
"Welcome to the club." I press a kiss to her forehead. "I'm fucking terrified too."
"What happens now?"
I don't have a good answer. "I don't know. We figure it out as we go, I guess."
CHAPTER EIGHT
