"Fuck," he groans above me, and I can hear the strain in his voice. His whole body is shaking—trembling with the effort of not moving. "So tight. So fucking perfect.Christ, Vera."
His voice breaks. I can feel him pulsing inside me, his cock throbbing like it's trying to release already.
"Don't move," he grits out, more to himself than to me. "Don't fucking move or I'll—"
He's barely holding on. I can see it in the tension of every muscle, the way his jaw clenches, how his hands grip the sheets beside my head with white-knuckled force.
I'm gasping, crying, my nails digging into his shoulders. He's huge inside me—impossibly huge. I feel impaled, stretched beyond what my body can handle, split open around his thickness.
"It hurts," I sob. "Pyotr, ithurts."
"I know." His arms are shaking on either side of my head. "I know it hurts,malyshka. You just lost your virginity. Your body just took a cock for the first time. Of course it hurts."
He's barely breathing. Every exhale is harsh and ragged. His hips make tiny, involuntary movements—instinct trying to take over even as he forces himself to stay still.
"Need—" He squeezes his eyes shut. "Need to not move. Three days. Three days of saving everything and you're so tight I'm going to—fuck—"
The burning is intense. I can feel where I'm stretched too wide, the ache deep inside where he's pressed against my cervix. And I'm so full—too full. There's no room left inside me. He's taken up every inch of space.
"Breathe," he orders, voice shaking. "Just breathe. Let your body adjust. Please,malyshka, adjust quickly because I can't—I need to move—"
I try. Force myself to take shaky breaths while he holds still above me—or tries to. He's trembling. His whole body is taut with restraint, muscles locked, barely keeping himself from thrusting.
I can feel his balls pressed against me—heavy and full. Three days of denying himself. Three days of saving every drop. All of it waiting to flood into me the moment he loses control.
"That's it," he manages, voice wrecked. "You're doing so well. Taking me so perfectly. My good girl. My brave wife."
So slowly it feels like hours, the sharp pain fades to a deep, throbbing ache. I'm still stretched impossibly full, but the initial agony is lessening.
"Better?" he asks, and I can hear the desperation. He needs to move. Needs it so badly he's shaking with it.
"A little," I whisper.
"Thank fuck." He pulls back an inch and groans like he's dying. "So good. You feel so fucking good."
The drag makes me whimper but it's not as bad as I expected. He pushes back in, slow and controlled, but I can see the effort it costs him. His jaw clenches. His arms tremble.
"I need you," He does it again, that careful withdrawal and return. "Need to go slow but you're so tight and I've been waiting so long."
"There," he murmurs, pressing kisses to my wet cheeks. "You're doing so well. Taking me so perfectly. My good girl. My brave wife."
The praise helps somehow. Makes the pain more bearable.
"Can you feel me?" he asks. "Feel how deep I am? How completely you're filled?"
I can. God, I can feel every inch of him. The thick shaft stretching me wide. The way he's pressed against something deep inside me. How my body is clenching around him, trying to accommodate this foreign intrusion.
"I'm going to move now," he warns. "Just a little. Tell me if it's too much."
He pulls back an inch and the drag makes me whimper. The friction against my torn, sensitive flesh is overwhelming. Then he pushes back in, slow and careful.
"How does that feel?"
"It hurts," I admit, fresh tears leaking out. "But... but less."
"Good." He does it again. Another slow withdrawal and return. "Your body is learning. Learning to take me."
He establishes a rhythm. Shallow thrusts, careful and controlled. Each one burns less than the last. And underneath the pain, something else is building. Something that makes me understand why people do this voluntarily.
