He eased forward again, pausing when my breath hitched. “I’m at my second knuckle now. How’s that feel?”
Shifting, I rolled my hips, testing the new presence inside me. A strange little sound slipped out before I could stop it. Okay. Yep. There’s definitely a finger in me. That’s a real thing happening to my actual body. “I think good? Mostly. It’s a little strange. I kind of feel like I need to, ya know...”
“Yeah, it can feel like that, especially for your first time. Let’s see if we can make it better than strange, though. Can I keep going?”
“Please.”
He continued his progression, until at last his digit was seated. “That’s it, I’m in.”
“You’re inside me! Part of you is actually inside me.”
“Yeah, handsome, I’m inside you. How does it feel?”
“Can you . . . can you move?”
“I could,” he said, elongating theouin could. “But I’m not convinced you want it. You’ll have to ask again, only this time with feeling.”
I loved Oliver like this, teasing and just straight-up radiant. He’d come so far from the man I met months ago, who’s actions always came with an apology and who moved like he was afraid to take up space. Now? Damn, he owned it. He stood here, confident, rebuilt from the ashes, and I got to be the idiot luckyenough to stand beside him in that glow. No chance in hell I’d dim that. If he wanted to play like this, I was all in with him.
“You want me to beg?” I tried to sound indignant, but I totally would if he wanted me too.
His voice dropped another notch. “That’s not what I meant, but sure, if it helps, you can beg. Moan, shout, say my name. I don’t care how you do it. I just want to hear you say it like you mean it. Tell me you want me deeper. Tell me you want me to finger-fuck you and hit every spot that makes you gasp and clench around me. Make me believe you want it and then I’ll move.”
“I’m not sure I’ll be saying much of anything if you keep up that kinda talk.”
“Well then, I guess we’ll just stay right here until you find your voice. It’ll help you get used to me inside you anyway.”
“Angel, please. Please move. Please. Please make me yours. Please put your mark on all the places inside me that belong to no one but you.”
“That’s better,” he said. Then with a kiss to my lips his finger began to slide back, not all the way, but enough for me to feel the drag along my inner walls, this odd tugging sensation. The pressure and friction danced across nerves I’d never been aware of until now.
“Holy moly guacamole,” I said, voice hoarse and breathless.
“Like that?”
“I...” Words weren’t compatible with everything happening in my body. Heat, pressure, vulnerability, pleasure, anticipation, they all tangled in a rush that made sense and no sense at once. “Please. More.”
He didn’t pull out and thrust back in. This time he rocked his finger, rotating it, his knuckle grazing the tissue. His finger curled upward and...
The world broke open.
A flood of feeling shot through me, white-hot and shocking. My breath punched out of me in a noise I would deny until the day I died. My back arched.
“There we are, found it.”
He pressed again, dragging his fingertip across that devastating spot, and my vision blurred. My head swam as I floated in this sea of unbelievable pleasure.
Each time he nudged that spot, the feeling intensified. My mouth hung open, panting, releasing a near-constant stream of breathless babbled nonsense. I trembled, full-on measured on the Richter scale level trembles. From one finger. Consider my mind blown.
“How does that feel?”
“I’m... fuck.” I reached for something that summarized this experience and came up empty-handed. “It’s like... I don’t know. I need a thesaurus and maybe several volumes of Neruda to come close to describing it. It’s like nothing else. It’s never been like this.”
“That’s your prostate for you.”
“No,” I breathed, meeting his eyes. “It’s more than that. It’s you, Ollie. Only you.”
His expression shifted, heat turning into tenderness, desire tempered by a soft astonishment. “Always the charmer,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss me.
