He looks down at himself, then back at me with a slight smirk. "It'll fit, I just prepared you for it."
"No it won't," I say, genuine panic creeping into my voice as I sit up slightly. "Ilay, you're too big, I've never... nothing like that has ever..."
"Iris," he says gently, moving back over me, caging me in with his arms on either side of my head. "Look at me." I drag my eyes away from his size to meet his gaze. "Trust me," he says. "Your body can take me, I made sure of it, I prepped you, stretched you, got you so wet you're dripping, you can do this."
"I don't think I can," I whimper, even as heat pools in my core at his words.
"You can," he says firmly, kissing me softly. "And I'm going to go slow, I'm going to make sure you feel good the whole time, I promise I won't hurt you more than necessary."
"More than necessary?" I repeat, my voice going higher.
"The first time always hurts a little," he says honestly. "But I'm going to make it as good as possible for you, just trust me, okay?"
I nod slowly, even though I'm terrified.
Chapter 35
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IRIS
He positions himself at my entrance, the broad head of him pressing against me, already stretching me just from that minimal contact. I tense immediately, my hands flying up to grip his shoulders.
"Breathe," he says, his hand cupping my face, his thumb stroking my cheek tenderly. "Just breathe for me, Iris, don't tense up or it'll hurt more, I need you relaxed." I try to breathe, try to relax my muscles, but he feels enormous even just pressed against me.
"Look at me," he says softly, waiting until my eyes meet his. "I'm going to take care of you, I promise, you trust me, don't you?" I nod, even though I'm terrified. He kisses my forehead, then each cheek, then my nose, gentle and reassuring. "Good girl, that's my good girl."
He pushes in slowly, just the tip, barely an inch, and the stretch makes me cry out, my nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to leave marks. "Wait," I gasp, my voice coming out strangled. "Wait, wait, it's too much, you're too big, I can't."
He stops immediately, holding completely still, every muscle in his body tense with the effort of not moving. "I'm barely inside you, baby, you can take more than this, I know you can, your body was made for this."
"I can't," I whimper, my body already feeling impossibly full. "It burns, it's stretching me too much, I'm going to tear."
"You're not going to tear," he says, kissing my temple, my cheek, my jaw. "The burn is normal, it'll fade, your body is adjusting, just breathe through it and let yourself relax, I'm right here."
He stays still for a long moment, letting me get used to just the tip of him, his hand stroking my hair, his lips pressing gentle kisses all over my face, patient and soothing. "I want you to do something for me," he says softly. "Can you do that?"
"What?" I whisper.
"Look down," he says. "I want you to watch, I want you to see yourself taking me." I look down between our bodies, seeing where we're joined, seeing just the tip of him inside me, my body stretched around him. "Keep watching," he says. "I want you to see how well you take me, how beautiful you look."
He pushes in another inch, slow and careful, and I watch it disappear inside me, the visual somehow making it more real, more intense. I cry out at the stretch, my nails dragging down his back, leaving red marks in their wake. "Ilay, stop, please, it's too big, I can't take anymore."
"Yes you can," he says firmly, kissing my forehead, my cheeks, his voice steady and reassuring even though his jaw is clenched tight. "You're doing so well, taking me so good, you're such a good girl, just a little more."
"I need help," I gasp, my body fighting against the intrusion.
"I know what you need," he says gently. "Reach down, I want you to spread yourself open for me, make it easier for your body to take me."
"What?" I ask, confused through the haze. "Put your hands here," he guides my hands down between my legs. "Spread yourself open, hold yourself wide so I can fill you properly." Ido as he says, my face burning with embarrassment, using my fingers to spread myself open for him.
"That's it," he praises, kissing my cheek, my temple. "Such a good girl, helping me, making it easier, you're doing so well." He slides in deeper with my help, the angle better now, my body more open to receive him, and I watch as more of him disappears inside me, inch by agonizing inch. "Look at that," he says, his voice rough. "Look at how well you take me, look at how your body opens up for my cock, you're perfect."
I'm transfixed, watching him fill me, watching my body stretch to accommodate his size, unable to look away even as tears stream down my face from the intensity. "Keep your hands there," he instructs. "Keep holding yourself open while I give you more."
He pushes in further, now more than halfway, so deep I can feel him everywhere, in places I didn't know could be touched, and my hands stay where he told me to keep them, holding myself spread wide for him. "I can't take any more," I sob, even though I can feel my body slowly stretching around him, accommodating his size despite how impossible it seems. "Please, no more, I'm too full, I'm going to break."
"You're not going to break," he promises, kissing away my tears, his lips gentle on my cheeks, my forehead, my temples. "You're so strong, you're taking me so perfectly, I'm so proud of you, you're doing everything right."
