“We’re going to talk about this later,” he grunts. “But if you ever hurt yourself again, I swear I’ll kill you.”
I smile.
“Don’t,” he says. “I’m serious. Do. Not. Ever. Hurt what’s mine again. I mean it.”
“Fine,” I say. “Now kiss me.”
He studies me for a moment longer, then does as I ask.
My hands slide over his back, my nails dragging, leaving marks behind. I toy with the waistband of his boxers, trying to push them down.
It takes a moment of clumsy fumbling.
He laughs. “Eager, are we?”
He helps me anyway, shoving them off.
My mouth falls open before I can stop it. His cock is huge, thick and veined.
“No,” I say flatly. “Absolutely not. That’s not going to fit. What are you, eight inches?”
He smirks, proud. “Actually, nine.”
I shake my head as he laughs. “No. Just no. You’re going to break me.”
“That’s the point.” He winks. “I want you to feel me inside you for days.”
He bites the place between my neck and shoulder, and I moan, my eyes slip shut at the sensation.
His bare cock is so close to my entrance that I can’t stop myself. I start rubbing my clit against him.
“Fuck,” he groans.
He kisses me as I keep up the maddening friction.
“Please.”
He smiles slowly. “I love it when you beg,” he says. “Please what?”
“I need all of you,” I gasp. “I feel like I’m going to explode.”
He nudges my entrance with the head of his cock, teasing. “Are you sure?” he growls. “If it becomes too much, you tell me and I stop.”
“I’m sure,” I pant, my hands tangled in his hair as he keeps pressing, making me ache.
He pushes into me slowly. The stretch burns immediately, the intensity sudden and overwhelming.
He stops. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I say quickly. “Just keep going.”
“Octavia, if I’m hurting you—” He starts to pull back.
“No.” I hook my legs around him, holding him there. “I want this,” I say, and I mean it.
He studies my face, searching, then leans down to kiss me as he eases a little more of himself inside.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunts.
