He exhales roughly, the sound almost a growl. “Tell me if I hurt you.”
I nod, breathless. “I will. Just don’t stop.”
He presses forward.
The first real stretch is immediate and overwhelming. The flared head breaches me, then the first thick inch, those spiraling ridges catching and dragging along every sensitive inner wall. My body instinctively clenches, trying to adjust, and he freezes mid-motion, every muscle locked, violet eyes searching my face with raw intensity.
“Too much?” His voice is gravel and worry.
“No,” I gasp, even as my fingers dig into his shoulders. “No. Again. Please. Deeper.”
He hesitates only a second, then rocks forward again, slower this time, feeding me another inch. The ridges roll inside me, each one a deliberate pulse of sensation, and I can feel the way my body flutters and grips around him, greedy despite the stretch. A clumsy little thrust follows. Too eager, not quite angled right. He slips half an inch back out before catching himself. A low, frustrated sound rumbles in his chest.
“I want to feel all of you,” he rumbles.
I reach up, cupping the sharp line of his jaw, guiding his gaze back to mine. “Then take me. Messy is okay. Just take me.”
Hunger overtakes caution in his expression. He surges forward again, harder this time, burying half his length in one long, steady push. I arch with a sharp cry, the stretch blooming into bright, liquid heat. The smaller cock slides along my clit as he seats himself deeper, its soft, broad tip nestling right against the swollen bud, rocking with every shallow thrust he can’t quite control yet.
“Darkest Deep…” His forehead drops to mine, breath ragged. “You’re so tight. So warm. I can feel every part of you gripping me.”
I can’t form words. I just wrap my legs around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back, urging him closer. He starts to move. Short, uneven strokes at first, learning the rhythm of my body, learning how deep he can go before I gasp, how the angle changes when I tilt my hips. Every time those ridges catch just right, pleasure spikes sharp and bright behind my eyes. The smaller cock keeps stroking my clit in soft, slippery circles, never quite letting the pressure fade, building me higher even as the thick length inside me stretches me open again and again.
“Crat'ax…” His name breaks on a moan as he finds the perfect angle, grinding deep, the smaller cock pressing firm and steady against my clit now, rocking in time with his thrusts.
He lifts his head, eyes dark and shining, pupils blown wide. “Let go,” he rasps, voice wrecked. “I have you. I won’t let you fall.”
The coil inside me snaps.
The release hits like a shockwave, hard, sudden, merciless. My whole body locks, then shatters, inner walls pulsing wildly around the thick ridges buried inside me. I cry out, loud and broken, hips bucking as wave after wave rips through me. Thesmaller cock keeps stroking through it, drawing the orgasm longer, brighter, until I’m trembling, gasping, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes from the intensity.
He stays with me, hips stuttering but never stopping, riding every clench and flutter until I’m boneless and shaking beneath him. Only then does his own control fray. A guttural sound tears from his throat; his thrusts turn erratic, deep, possessive. I feel him swell even thicker inside me, the violet stripes pulsing brighter, and then he’s coming with a roar, flooding me with heat that seems to go on and on.
We collapse together, slick and trembling, his weight a perfect anchor. His smaller cock still twitches softly against my oversensitive clit, sending tiny aftershocks through me every few seconds. Neither of us moves to pull away.
When he finally eases back enough to look at me, his voice is rough and wrecked. “Are you all right?”
I cup his face, thumb brushing his cheek. “Better than all right.”
He searches my eyes again, then kisses me softly, almost chastely, a sharp contrast to everything that came before.
“You’re still inside,” I murmur.
“I know.” A faint, crooked smile curves his mouth. “I find it doesn’t want to leave.”
I tighten my legs around him. “Then don’t.”
After a short while he does. He settles carefully, one arm beneath my shoulders, the other around my waist, and we stay like that. Joined, breathing, listening to the waves slap softly against the pilings.
The fear from earlier is gone. The constant worry is gone.
In its place is something steadier. Something chosen and warm.
Him.
And right now, that feels like enough to build something on.
13
