James reaches down, pulling my panties aside so he can stroke my bare cunt. A groan pours from his throat. “Fuck, you’re already so wet for me.”
My face flushes. “I’m ready, James.”
He shakes his head. “No. You’re not.”
I grab his hand, pressing it more firmly against the wetness between my thighs. “I am, see?”
“No. Maura, I’m larger than you might be used to,” he says bluntly. “You’re not ready. You have to let me warm you up, okay?”
Oh.
Whatever I expected him to say, it wasn’tthat.None of the men I’ve been with before had to issue an official warning. A pang of nervousness flickers through me, but I push it away. “Okay.”
His other hand interweaves with mine, and he guides me back toward his bed. He pulls me onto the plush mattress, the duvet cool and feather-soft on my bare skin. He trails hot kisses along the line of my neck, and I arch against him, instinctively wanting him closer.
He lowers his hand to hover over my breast. “Can I?”
I know what he’s asking. I’ve given him permission to touch me wherever he wants, but he knows the shirt is a boundary. He’s checking in with me, and I’m grateful for it.
“Please,” I breathe, and he palms the small mound through my shirt. My nipples tighten under the fabric. I didn’t put on a bra—with my small breasts, it’s not really necessary. I can’t believe how good it feels to have him touch me like this, even with a layer of fabric between us. My hips press against his, and I feel the ridge of his hardened cock against me. Arousal pools in my panties, and I know they’re not enough to hold it back. I’m going to make a mess on his trousers.
“I want to touch you,” James growls. He hooks his finger in the elastic top of my thong, pulling it down over my hip. I adjust my legs to help him pull them off so I’m bare for him. My sensitive pussy aches to be touched, and I’m so close to what I’m craving.
James meets my eyes as he presses the tip of his finger against my entrance. My hands fist in the comforter underneath me as he pushes a long finger inside me. Oh, god. It feels sogoddamn good to have him filling me. I can’t remember the last time a man touched me like this. Then he circles my clit with his thumb and I can’t remember anything.
“Good?” he asks.
I whine in response, and a wicked smile flashes across his face. He teases a second finger at my entrance, giving me time to stop him. I don’t, because I’m already desperate for more, hot and writhing on his hand.
Damn. If I thought it was good before, I had no idea. Two of James’s fingers are heaven. I melt back against the bed as he presses inside me, stretching me while he sends shockwaves through my body with his fingers on my clit. It’s so perfect, so good that if he just kept going, I’d come in minutes.
Until a third finger strokes my sensitive entrance. When it pushes inside, I grab James’s shoulders hard enough to bruise. He freezes. “Too much?”
I nod, and he frowns.
“I won’t stop here. I want you to take at least three of my fingers, Maura. You’re going to need it if you’re going to take my cock.” Before I can panic, he presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “I know it’s a stretch, but don’t worry. I promised I’d make it good.”
His mouth moves down my neck, kissing me through my shirt along my sternum. Fuck, what if he feels the scar through the fabric? I know it’s unlikely, but I can’t help the way my muscles lock up. If James notices how I tense as he moves over my scar, he must assume I’m still worried about taking him. I let out a sigh of relief as he continues downward, kissing over my stomach.
Until I realize where he’s headed.
“Wait,” I plead, my hand pulling his face away from my thighs. “I need a second. I’ve never done this before.”
His blue eyes widen with what looks like horror. “Fuck. Are you—you’re not a virgin, are you?”
I laugh. “God, no. I’m not a virgin, just…poorly serviced.”
Anger flashes across his face, but it’s gone just as quickly. “Let me, then.”
When I nod, he settles between my thighs, his dark hair stark against my pale skin. He kisses my swollen nub, gently at first, then a little harder. My nerves light up at the touch. It feels different, but so damn good—softer and more delicate than fingers. Then his tongue drags over my clit, and I see stars.
“Oh my god,” I gasp, my hand threading into his hair, pulling him closer.
He laps at me again, slowly picking up speed as he catalogues my reactions. He finds a rhythm that has me whimpering for him, his flat tongue stroking me slowly but relentlessly. My hips grind against the two fingers already buried inside me, stretching me. When the tip of his third finger prods my entrance, I don’t tense up.
“Yes, James, please.” I sound breathy and desperate, like a creature I don’t even recognize.
Then his third finger presses inside, and I’m immediately humbled. The stretch stings, and I hiss through my teeth at the discomfort. It’s so much, too much, and I don’t know if I can handle it if he moves any more.
