She was so fucking wet—hot, slippery silk coating me—ready in a way that made my balls draw up tight. But she was also impossibly small, the tight ring of muscle kissing the tip like it wasn’t sure whether to let me in or push me out. I could feel her pulse fluttering there, fast and nervous, matching the rapid rise and fall of her chest.
I didn’t move. Not yet.
Elsa’s hand was still wrapped around the base of me, trembling just enough to tell me she was feeling the size difference as much as I was. Her thighs flexed against my hips, holding her weight up, giving me the control she’d silently handed over.
I lifted one hand from her hip to cradle the back of her neck, my thumb brushing the soft skin under her ear. “Look at me, sweetheart.”
Her lashes fluttered open. Those wide eyes met mine—glazed, trusting, a little scared. I hated that last part.
“Slow,” I told her, voice low and rough. “We go as slow as you need.”
She gave the smallest nod, then sank down a fraction. The head popped past the first tight ring, and I nearly blacked out.
Christ. She was molten. So fucking tight, it felt like she was trying to strangle me in the best possible way. Every inch was a battle, velvet walls gripping me like they’d never let go. I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to thrust up and bury myself to the hilt. I’d rather die than hurt her.
Her eyes squeezed shut. A small grimace pulled at her mouth, brows knitting together. My heart twisted.
“Hey.” I moved my thumb back to her clit, finding that swollen little bud still slick from her orgasm. I circled it gently, the same slow rhythm I’d used before. “Breathe for me. I’ve got you.”
A soft whimper slipped from her lips. Her hips jerked once, taking another inch. The squeeze around me was obscene—hot, wet, impossibly snug. I could feel every flutter, every tiny ripple as her body tried to adjust.
“Fuck, Elsa,” I breathed, not taking my eyes off her face. “You feel so good. So fucking perfect.”
She made a broken little sound—half pain, half pleasure. Her fingers dug into my shoulders. Another careful inch. Then another. Halfway now, and I was already shaking with the effort of holding still.
Her grimace started to soften. The lines between her brows eased. Her mouth fell open on a shaky exhale, and when I stroked her clit a little firmer, her hips rocked forward on instinct, sinking me deeper.
“That’s it,” I murmured, my voice rough. “Take what you want, baby. Let me feel you.”
She moaned—low, needy, the sound going straight to my cock. Her inner walls clenched around me in response, and I hadto bite the inside of my cheek to keep from coming right then. She was drenched now, easing the way, coating me in heat every time she moved.
“Look at you,” I rasped. “Taking me so well. So tight, sweetheart. Like you were made for this. For me.”
Her eyes opened again, glassy and dark. She bit her lip, cheeks flushed, and started to roll her hips in tiny, testing circles. Each movement dragged me deeper until finally—finally—her ass settled against my thighs and I was buried to the root.
We both groaned at the same time.
She was everywhere. Hot, slick, pulsing around every inch of me. The pressure was unreal—tight enough to make my vision blur, wet enough to let me feel every delicate flutter.
I kept my thumb on her clit, stroking slow and steady, watching her face the whole time. Her head tipped back, throat working on a long, shuddering moan. Her nipples were still hard, flushed dark from my mouth. Her thighs trembled against my hips.
“You okay?” I asked, even though I could feel the answer in the way she was clenching around me.
She nodded, then whispered, “More than okay.”
I let out a rough laugh that sounded more like a growl. “Good. Because I’m not sure I can move without losing it.”
She smiled—small, wicked, beautiful—and leaned down to kiss me. Slow. Deep. Her tongue slid against mine at the same moment she lifted her hips and sank back down, taking me in one smooth glide.
I groaned into her mouth. “Fuck, Elsa.”
She did it again. And again. Slow at first, then faster, finding a rhythm that had us both panting. The wet sounds of her riding me filled the cab—obscene, perfect. Her breath hitched every time she bottomed out, little gasps and whimpers that drove me insane.
I wrapped my free arm around her waist, pulling her flush against my chest so I could feel every shudder, every tremble. My other hand stayed between us, thumb circling her clit in time with her movements.
“You’re gonna come again for me,” I told her, lips brushing her ear. “Gonna come all over my cock while I’m buried inside you. You want that?”
“Yes,” she gasped, nails biting into my shoulders. “Yes—Briggs?—”
