“Did I do something wrong?” I ask, puzzled.
“No,” he says.
“I want to know what it feels like,” I say, my confidence fading fast. “Inside me, I mean.”
Avros doesn't move at first, and I can sense the tension rolling off him, like he's holding back a storm. He is worried he might go too far in his desire for me. But that's exactly what I want, to not stop, to push through this barrier and come out the other side knowing I've chosen it.
My body hums with a mix of fear and something hotter, deeper, that pull I've felt for months without understanding.
It's him, always him, watching, waiting, and now he's here, real and close. Avros's obsession feels like protection, like devotion wrapped in darkness, and right now, that darkness calls to me more than the light ever did.
My hands tremble as I reach for his, pulling him down to me, his body filling the space above me until there's no room for second thoughts. His fingers lace with mine, warm and steady, and that simple touch sends a spark through me, heating my skin, making me aware of every inch of my body in a way I've never been before.
He doesn't rush me. Instead, he cups my face with one hand, his thumb brushing my cheek like he did earlier, and leans in to kiss me again, building that same slow fire from before.
I melt into it, my lips parting under his, tasting the restraint he's fighting as his tongue sweeps gently against mine. Desire coils low in my belly, surprising me with its intensity. I've ignored this part of myself for so long, but now it's waking up, insistent and needy.
I press closer, my body against his, feeling the hard lines of him, the way his chest rises and falls faster now.
"Emma," he murmurs against my mouth, "tell me if it's too much."
But I don't want to stop; I want to feel alive, claimed in a way that's mine to keep.
He leans on one forearm and his other hand trails down my arm, raising goosebumps as I arch into the touch, craving more.
"You're sure?" he asks, his voice husky, and I nod, pulling him closer. My hands move to the firm planes of his chest and a soft moan escapes me.
Desire flares brighter, mixing with the urgency to just get past the pain, to own this moment. He's careful, his mouth moving to my neck, kissing a path that makes my breath hitch, while his hand slips under my T-shirt, caressing my thigh with feather-light strokes that build the heat between my legs until I'm aching for him in a way I didn’t know existed.
I reach for him, clumsy in my eagerness, and he stills my hands.
"Slow," he says, "let me make it good for you. We can sort me out after."
He peels away my T-shirt inch by inch, his eyes drinking me in with a reverence that makes my cheeks flush but also makes me feel powerful, desired in a way that's healing. Naked beneath him, I should feel vulnerable, but instead, it's empowering.
This is my choice, my control, with a man who's obsessed enough to wait, to cherish. His mouth finds my breast, gentle suction that sends jolts of pleasure straight to my core, and I gasp, threading my fingers through his hair, urging him on.
Avros's touch is worship, not conquest.
His hand slides back between my thighs, finding me ready and wanting, his fingers circling slowly until I'm writhing beneath him.
I take a deep breath and meet his eyes in the dark. He's hard and intimidating, but the way he holds back, waiting for my quiet agreement, reassures me.
"Gentle," I remind him, and he nods, kissing me deeply as he presses forward, inch by careful inch.
The stretch burns at first, sharp and unfamiliar, making me tense, but he pauses, whispering against my lips, "Breathe,sovershenna, I've got you."
I do, relaxing into his rhythm, the pain easing into a fullness that borders on pleasure. Desire rebuilds as he moves slowly, his hand between us, stroking me in time with his thrusts until the discomfort fades, replaced by waves of sensation that build and build like they did when his mouth was on me. Only this feels like its coming from somewhere deep inside me.
I cling to him, nails digging into his shoulders, rationalizing through the haze that this is right. This claiming by a man who sees all of me, flaws and strengths, is more than I ever could have imagined it being.
I stop trying to analyse what each new sensation is, what each feeling means. Instead, I allow myself to relax fully into him taking the lead and as the pressure crests, I shatter around him, crying out his name.
My body curls forward, pulling him closer as the pleasure begins to subside. I’m trembling as he continues to thrust .
“Please, Avros,” I pant, unable to take much more. “Please come in me.”
Something seems to fracture between us, and he wraps his huge hand around my thigh and pulls me close as he bottoms out with a groan. His body racks now, each pulse of his cock punctuated by an unsteady breath as he empties inside of me.
