She made a strangled sound. “That’s very—oh God—”
I licked, and sucked, making her jerk against me. Then, I eased one finger inside her. She gasped but let me continue. I pumped my finger in and out a few times then ghosted over that rough spot inside her. Her legs jerked. I did it again and she whimpered. I added another finger, stretching her. She was so tight, I wondered for the first time if she’d be able to take me.
I was a big man and she was a virgin.
My virgin.
My virgin bride.
A shiver ran through me and my cock swelled. I wanted her so badly, but I knew I needed to take my time. Make her first time, our first time, as good as I could.
I added a third finger and she whimpered, her hands curling in my hair. “Thorne.”
“I know, baby. But I want you ready. I want you so wet, I can just slide inside you as I make you mine.” I sucked on her clit as I worked her with my fingers. Stretching her, making her body weep for my touch.
Then I felt her breathing change. Her body tightened. She was close. I doubled my efforts. Sucking her clit, licking her slit, thrusting deeper. “That’s it, baby, come on my hand. Soak my face.”
And she did. “That was—” She couldn’t finish the sentence, still catching her breath.
“That was just the warmup.” I pulled my fingers from her body and licked away her cream. Her breath hissed just a little at the action and I smiled. She liked that.
I kissed my way back up her body, kissing her. Letting her taste herself. She kissed me back eagerly. I held my weight off her as I grasped my cock as I prepared to make her mine. I rubbed the leaking head over her entrance. “You still sure?”
“Yes, I’m still sure. “If you stop now, I’ll have some very dire words for you, mountain man.”
I laughed against her neck. “Noted.”
And then I was pushing inside her. I’d made her wet, but she was still tight. I took my time. Went slow. Watched her face for every reaction, every flicker of discomfort. I was about halfway in when I felt the barrier of her innocence.
“Okay?” I asked.
“Yes. More please.”
I looked down at her, wanting to savor this moment. “This will hurt, but only for a minute.”
She nodded her head and I pull out, then thrust back in, hard and fast. Deep. Claiming her with my body.
“Sssh,” I whispered. “It’s done now. You’re mine.”
And she was. There might be times ahead of us that would need smoothing out. I wasn’t the easiest man to live with. But I was hers now.
For better or worse.
And I intended to make every day better than the last.
I pulled back out and thrust back in, slow and claiming. In and out until she was moving with me. I let her feel the friction, the weight, the reality of us. But then her hands moved to my lower back, her nails digging into my skin, urging me deeper. I lost the battle with my restraint. I drove into her, finding a rhythm that was primal and punishingly sweet.
“Talk to me,” I said. “Tell me what you need.”
“Harder, Thorne. I need it harder.”
That was what I’d been waiting for. Then I took her with all the hunger that had been stored up inside me. This wasn’t just about sex—this was about her. Me. Us.
“That’s it, baby. Take me. I need you so bad.” Again and again, I lost count of the times her warmth engulfed me, chasing that sensation building at the base of my spine.
I gave her what she asked for. Harder, deeper, chasing the sounds she made, the way she gripped my shoulders, the absolute perfection of being inside her.
Then she came again, taking me with her.
