Garrik responds instantly, groping around on the side table for it as I stroke him. A second later, he’s opening the jar, dropping a drizzle of honey down on his cock.
I lick it up, feeling the buzz of pleasure as it hits my tongue and lips, and Garrik groans, yanking on my hair.
“Iris!”
I wrap my lips around him and take his head fully into my mouth, and Garrik’s hips rock again. He doesn’t want to hurt me—but he can’t control himself. And Ilove it. I love how he gives in as I suck on him, how he starts to thrust his hips…softly, not enough to go too deep, just enough to show me how much he wants it. I moan around his cock, curling my tongue to get every drop of honey.
Garrik’s hips stutter, his fingers curling tighter in my hair, his voice breaking on my name. I pull back slowly, lips slick, mouth tingling from the honey and heat, and rest my cheek against his thigh for just a moment—letting him catch his breath. Letting myself bask in the effect I have on him.
“Iris,” he says again, rough and reverent, cupping my jaw and guiding me up to stand.
The way he looks at me…like I’m a miracle.
Garrik’s breath is hot against my throat as he eases me back on the bed, the weight of him braced on one forearm while his other hand strokes slowly down my thigh.
“Tell me if anything’s too much,” he whispers.
“It won’t be,” I breathe. “I want you.”
Still, he doesn’t rush. He kisses me—long and slow—while his hand coasts lower, hooking behind my knee to draw my leg higher around his waist. I can feel the weight of him against me, thick and pulsing, and the want in my belly flares hot and sharp.
“Breathe, honeybee,” he murmurs.
And then he starts to press inside.
The first stretch makes me gasp.
He groans into my neck, barely holding himself back. “Gods, you’re tight…”
I nod, dizzy, biting my lip as the head of his cock pushes past the resistance. My body stretches around him, aching with pressure, but not pain. It’s too much—but in the exact way I want it to be. I’m not sure if it’s because some weird twist of fate had me destined for this, or if it’s the honey, or just how turned on I am by this gorgeous man…but I take him and it doesn’t hurt.
It feelsgood.
“That’s it,” he whispers. “Just like that.”
He moves in tiny increments, watching my face the whole time, his eyes molten gold. Every slow slide forward makes me see stars. He’s so big—bigger than I thought, even after everything—and my body is struggling to keep up. But it’s not struggling in fear.
It’s need.
Desperation.
I shift, hips tilting upward instinctively, and when he presses deeper, something inside me clenches tight.
“Oh my god,” I gasp. “I can feel—Garrik, I can feel you so deep?—”
He stills, his voice low and broken. “Look.”
I blink, disoriented, and follow the path of his hand as he brushes his palm gently down my stomach. My eyes widen when I see what he sees: a slight bulge just below my navel, the barest suggestion of where his cock is filling me, stretching me from the inside out.
“Oh,” I whisper. “Ohfuck.”
“Too much?” he asks, but his voice is shaking. “We can stop?—”
“No,” I breathe. “Don’t stop. I want it. I want all of you.”
He kisses me then—devouring, reverent—and starts to move again. Not thrusting, not yet. Just sliding deeper, inch by slowinch, until I feel completely full. My whole body is trembling, my thighs wrapped tight around his hips, and I can’t stop the low, helpless sounds that keep slipping from my mouth.
“Fuck,” Garrik groans. “You’re taking me so well. You’re perfect, Iris…gods, you feel so good.”
