He's smiling a little, but his eyes are serious.
"Get outta your head."
"Trying."
"You trust me?"
I nod.
"Say it."
"I trust you, Gio."
His mouth softens at that. "That's all I need." He works me open gently, patiently, curling his fingers just enough to make my back arch, my eyes flutter shut.
"That's the spot, isn't it?" he whispers, smiling against my skin. I nod. Fast. His fingers shouldn't feel this good.
If hishandsfeel like this, what the hell is his actual dick gonna feel like? I'm already hanging by a thread and we're not even there yet.
"Keep being responsive, please. Just like that. I want to know what you feel," he whispers.
I melt into it. It hurts in a different way. Because the better this feels, the worse it's going to be to lose it.
To losehim.
He pulls back to slick himself, but his eyes never leave me. He's gorgeous like this. "I'm gonna go slow," he says. "The second it's too much, you tell me."
"Okay," I whisper.
"Are you ready for me?"
"Yes," I say. "Please."
He nods, kisses me once, and then he lines up. The second I feel him inside me, I freeze.
It's just… foreign. Too new.
I tighten up like my body's got brakes.
"Okay," he says, pulling back. "That's okay." He breathes against my collarbone. "I need you to relax, Ravioli."
"I'm trying."
"I know." His hand rubs circles on my hip.
I feel stupid.
Like I should be doing better.
Like I'm ruining it.
Like he'll get bored if I take too long. "I'm sorry," I mumble.
"Don't be." He kisses my cheek.
"Rava, I'm not going anywhere. We got time." He waits. Lets me pull him close again.
Lets me breathe into his chest and not say anything.
