His cock is... it's...
I've never seen one before except in diagrams in health class, and those didn't prepare me for this. For him.
He's hard. Fully erect, jutting out from a nest of dark hair. Thick—so thick I don't understand how it's supposed to fit inside me. The shaft is rigid, veined, curving slightly upward. The head is broad and flushed darker than the rest, already glistening at the tip.
It's intimidating. Almost obscene in its size and obvious intent.
"That won't fit," I whisper.
He moves toward me, predatory and purposeful. "It will. I'll make sure of it."
His hands cup my face, forcing me to meet his eyes. "I've been gentle with you so far. Patient. But tonight I'm taking what's mine. All of it. And you're going to let me."
He reaches behind me, unhooks my bra with practiced efficiency. It falls away and his hands immediately cover my breasts, thumbs brushing over my nipples.
"Perfect," he murmurs. "These are going to look so beautiful when they're full of milk for my baby."
The casual certainty with which he talks about getting me pregnant makes my stomach flip. My body responds traitorously, nipples hardening under his touch.
He guides me backward until my legs hit the bed. Then he pushes me down gently but firmly, following me onto the mattress. His weight covers me, all that hard muscle and hot skin pressing me into the sheets.
"I'm going to worship every inch of you," he says, mouth moving to my throat. "And then I'm going to make you mine."
His lips trail down—neck, collarbone, the swell of my breast. When his mouth closes over my nipple, I gasp. The sensation is overwhelming, wet heat and gentle suction that sends electricity straight between my legs.
He takes his time with my breasts, alternating between them, using his tongue and teeth until I'm squirming beneath him. My hands find his hair, not sure if I'm trying to push him away or pull him closer.
"So responsive," he praises against my skin. "I'm going to love using this body."
His mouth continues downward. Kisses across my ribs, my stomach. His hands hook into the waistband of my panties.
"Lift," he commands.
I lift my hips and he slides them down, along with the garter belt and stockings, stripping me completely bare.
The cool air hits my exposed flesh and I try to close my legs instinctively. But he's between them, hands on my thighs, holding me open.
Heat floods my face. No one has ever seen me like this. I've never even really looked at myself there—just quick glances in the shower, always feeling vaguely uncomfortable about it.
And now he's staring.
"Don't hide from me." His eyes are fixed between my legs, intense and possessive.
"I—" My face burns hotter. "What if you don't... what if it's not..."
I can't even finish the sentence. What if I'm not pretty enough there? What if I smell wrong? What if—
"What if what?" He looks up at me, reading my mortification clearly. "What if I don't like your pussy?"
The crude word makes me flinch. "I just... I've never... no one's ever..."
"Good." His thumbs stroke the inside of my thighs. "No one else gets to see this. Only me. And I've been imagining what you look like here for two years."
"But what if—"
"You're perfect." He lowers his head, breath hot against my sensitive flesh. "Pink and wet and mine. Stop thinking."
Then his mouth is on me and all thoughts evaporate.
