“Does it hurt?”
I shake my head. “It’s just…” And I don’t know how to explain the rest of it. I wish I could slap the errant thoughts from my head. Let me overwrite the bad with the good.
“Should I lift you off?”
They’re simple questions and my inability to answer frustrates me, sending a fresh batch of tears to wet my face and clog my throat and make everything so much more intense, even the faint pulse where we remain tenuously joined. “I want to try again.”
His eyes fix to mine, licking his lips before he releases a long, slow breath, the exhalation making the hairs surrounding my ear dance.
As his hands stop lifting and start pulling, he fills me, slowly, inexorably. The movement is easier this time, both because I know what to expect and because his earlier efforts prepared me.
This time I sink further, able to let my muscles relax so it doesn’t cross the gap between pleasure and pain.
The stretch is pleasant, even as it pulses in time with my heart. Zane’s firm grip, his control, ignites a spark of excitement in my lower belly. I grip his shoulder harder with one hand, cup his head with the other, and bury my face into the side of his neck.
At the edge of pain again, I gasp, then ask, “Can we stop again?”
In response, he moves his hands, wrapping his arms around me, a laugh dancing on the air. “We’ll have to. You’re already taking all of me.”
“That’s all?” I try to inject a note of disappointment, an illusion that’s ruined when he flexes and I feel him move inside me, the sensation triggering a ragged indrawn breath.
“If you want more, you can beg for my fingers.”
I feel one, sliding near where we’re joined, bumping against something sensitive until I ease upwards.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he whispers, moving a hand to my shoulder and forcing me back down.
There’s a delicious dragging sensation inside me. Rubbing and friction and pulsing so good I raise up to feel him pull me down again, finding a rhythm that means the sensation stops being separate and starts building, growing better, more intense with each stroke until I reach the limits of how fast I can move.
“You want more?”
Zane’s voice is light, teasing, but there’s nothing playful about how he holds my hips steady to thrust inside me, taking control. He quickly eclipses my movements, the pace growing more frantic, more enjoyable with every passing second.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans and my body flushes with pleasure. “It feels like you were made to the precise measurements of my cock.”
The words time with his thrust until it’s like he’s pounding into the back of my brain.
“Well?” he asks, leaving me flummoxed.
“Very well.”
He laughs, the sound cutting off each time he pumps inside me until it’s staccato. “This is the bit where you’re meant to compliment me on my size.”
My lips find his neck, sucking until he’ll wear my mark tomorrow, breaking free with a pop. Then they find his ear to whisper, “. You have the biggest cock that’s ever been inside my body.”
“Which means zip when you have nothing to compare it to.”
I try to laugh but end up panting, slinging my arms around his neck as I hold on for dear life. “You feel so good. This is far better than a night spent alone with my fingers.”
“That’s more like it.”
“Far better than a bubble bath.”
“Mm.”
“Almost on a par with chocolate.”
“Almost?”
