“I’ve got you,” he says, his voice a rough whisper. “Relax and breathe.” His finger pushes deeper, and I try to do what he says, breathing and bearing down. He lets his lips graze my neck. “There you go,” he says. “That’s it.” And he starts moving his finger slowly, in and out, stretching me and opening me up with each careful touch.
It’s more than incredible, just like it was a couple of nights ago when we messed around like this for the first time. Before long, I’m begging him for more—a second finger, and then a third—and I’m panting and clinging to him. And when he curls his fingers just right, I turn my head and muffle a cry into his hair as a shock of ecstasy races through me.
“There. Fuck, right—yeah, right there,” I stammer, and he hums against me softly before hitting the same spot again and again. “Jesus. Shit. What are you—what are you doing? That’s—fuck.”
He huffs a laugh, turns his head, and captures my lips in a kiss that’s not quite as gentle. Then he sits up, kneeling between my legs, still moving his fingers in and out of my channel. I lift up an arm to cover my eyes as I struggle to keep my breathing steady. My whole body’s tingling now.
He lets his fingers slip out of me and then runs his other hand along my thigh. “I think you’re ready? Maybe?” he says, adding, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
I shift so I can see him, my eyes half-lidded, and I nod and then glance down at his erection. It’s perfectly long and hard and willing, precum leaking from the tip.
Fuck, I want him.
No, Ineedhim.
I lick my lips and nod again, lifting my eyes to meet his. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
His cheeks flush an adorable shade of pink, and he blinks and looks down at the bed, where he put the lube. My heart’s pounding fiercely in my chest—a mix of anticipation and desire. I watch, holding my breath, as he coats his shaft and then wipes his hands on the towel.
From there, everything seems to go in slow motion. Delicious slow motion.
He leans over me, finding my lips, and he kisses me sensually and gently. When he sits back up, both of his hands caress along my inner thighs and back to my knees. He’s looking down at me, smiling, and then he drops his chin and takes a breath.
“I, um, did some reading . . .”
“Reading,” I echo, grinning crookedly at him. “Right.”
He gives me a look, but then he laughs and runs a hand nervously through his hair. “No, seriously. I did. And, uh, anyway, just tell me if it hurts, okay? Or if you don’t like it. Or... anything.”
I know where his nervousness comes from, and I’m honestly still nervous, too. Nervous it will hurt, yes, but also worried he won’t like it or I won’t like it or it won’t be good for him orIwon’t be good for him.
But I trust him more than anyone else I’ve ever known. And I love him. I reach up with both hands to cup his cheeks, and I tug him down to me for another soft kiss.
When we part, he whispers, “I love you.” And then he smiles gently and kisses me again.
He’s careful and mindful, positioning me so my feet are off the bed, my knees bent up to expose my hole to him even more. Then his hand caresses my calf as he guides the head of his cock to my entrance. I close my eyes and breathe in deeply, and when I exhale, he starts to push into me.
And god, he’s bigger than he looks.
At least, that’s the first thought I have as his cock breaches myentrance. I let out a moan that’s part pain, part pleasure, and I hear him grunt above me as he stops moving.
“You’re... god, you’re so tight,” he says, his voice strained. “Are you okay?”
I’m trembling, but I manage to nod. “Yeah. Just give me a minute?”
“Of course. Does it hurt?”
I open my eyes to look up at him, shaking my head. “A little,” I say, “but it’s also”—I groan and close my eyes again—“it’s also fucking incredible.” I reach out and cover his hand on my thigh and then force myself to take several slow, deep breaths. When the burn stops, I squeeze his hand. “Okay, I’m ready again. Go ahead.”
Alex lifts my hand to his lips and presses a kiss on my knuckles. Then he pushes in a little more and a little more, slowly filling me. Raw need and pleasure mix with a brief sting of pain as he stretches me to accommodate his size.
I want it. I want more of it.
I press my head back into the bed with a rough moan as he sinks in the last few inches.
“Oh fuck, Nico,” he gasps, his hands moving to grip my thighs. “Tell me when I can... move.” He’s trembling now, probably struggling to hold himself still.
“Yeah... just a—just a minute,” I manage, and he nods.
