“Fuck, yes.” He chuckles, brushing some of my hair back off my forehead. “I love how far you’ve come, Angel. How relaxed you are with me.”
Blushing, I bite my lip and nod. “I love that too. I’ve never felt safer.”
Smiling, Ringo brings his fingers up out of the blankets, licking them clean, his eyes locked on mine the entire time.
Holy moly. This guy could get me pregnant without even having sex if stares had that power. Thankfully, Dee slipped me a package the other day, and I’m now taking birth control, although I know I have to give it some time to be considered in the safe zone.
“Remember that first night you used my fingers?” Ringo asks, wiggling his fingers before my eyes, and I nod, remembering how he’d let me use them on myself. Let me be in control.
It had worked. God, just remembering the feel of his digits sliding through my…
“That was fucking hot.” Ringo grins, moving his hand to my breast, and cupping it.
“It was,” I agree. “I wanted more. I just…” Frowning, I shake my head at how frustrating it was that I couldn’t get past my trauma.
“I know, Angel. You don’t have to explain.”
“I want you now.” I smirk, giving his hard dick a squeeze, finally remembering that I’ve been holding on to it this entire time.
“You have me, Abs. Back then. Now. And always.”
He nips at my lips, and for another few moments, we get lost in a slow, sensual kiss of tongues and nips, and swallowing each other’s moans.
“Angel, I want to fuck you now, but it’s a tight squeeze in here with the mattress set up. You’re not going to be able to ride me, so do I have permission to go on top?”
“You don’t have to ask for permission anymore,” I tell him honestly, knowing the trigger of missionary no longer happens when it comes to him.
He nods. “I know, but I’m going to be right on top, Angel. Crushing your body into the mattress. Nose to nose. There’s no room for me to hold myself off you to give you space to breathe.”
I get what he’s saying, and I appreciate his concern for me. It may potentially feel smothering. A few months ago, I don’t think I would have coped. But now, with him, I’m totally fine with the idea of it.
“Just don’t hit your head.” I grin, and he shoots me a wink, quickly shuffling beneath the blanket so he can settle over me.
There’s something so intimate about being so close. Just the two of us in this cramped space, not able to fully move, but desperate to feel each other.
We both laugh when he hits his head, curses flying from his lips as he gets his foot tangled in the blanket, but eventually he gets comfy, his hard shaft pressed against my seam, teasing me, and I moan.
“You hungry for my cock, Angel?”
“Always,” I breathe, spreading my legs wider in the hope it slips in all on its own.
“You want to feel it stretch you open? Hit you deep?”
“Ringo,” I groan. “Put it in.”
He chuckles, deep and raspy, lifting his hips a fraction, causing his tip to glide through my folds, finding my entrance.
“Here you go,” he breathes, his dark eyes locked on mine. “Open wide, Angel.”
I relax as his tip presses just inside, and when he shifts closer, his dick sinks in, giving me that stretch he was talking about.
He moves agonisingly slow, thrusting in, rolling his hips, pushing me further into the mattress before retreating. Over and over, my entire body ignites from the tease, already wired to come again.
Travelling my hands down over his shoulders and back, I dig my nails into his arse cheeks, loving the hiss of breath that leaves him, and the way his thrusts grow more urgent.
When he rears up, trying to get deeper, he hits his head, and we both pant out a laugh before the frustration of it settles in.
“We’re gonna need a little extra, Angel,” he grunts, still grinding into me.
