She licks up the underside of my shaft, eyes on mine the whole time, and when she sinks down again, slow and deep, I swear the edges of my vision blur.
“Jesus—”
She sucks harder. Her hand works what she can’t take, and her other palm smooths up my thigh like she’s trying to memorize me all over again.
I brace one hand on the wall. The other’s still tangled in her hair. I can’t think. I can’t breathe.
I won’t last long.
Not with her like this. Not with the filthy sounds of her mouth and the look in her eyes and the fucking heat of it.
“Stop,” I bite out, yanking her back gently. “That’s enough.”
She grins, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “You sure?”
I grab her face and kiss her hard. “Get back on the bed.”
She shivers. I walk her back with my hands on her hips, climb onto the mattress with her, and press her down against the pillows and kneel between her legs. When I stroke my hand between her thighs again, she spreads for me without hesitation.
“I’m not done,” I say, voice rough.
She nods. “Good.”
I drag the head of my cock through her wetness, rubbing slow against her clit until she squirms, until her hips lift like she’s chasing more.
“You still sensitive?”
“Yes.”
“Too sensitive?”
Her breath stutters. “No.”
That’s all I need.
I push in slowly, and not all the way—just enough to feel the heat of her grip me. I watch her face as I roll my hips once, shallow and slow, testing what she can take.
She moans.
I push deeper, pace steady, one hand braced beside her head, the other palming her thigh to angle her just right.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur, kissing her temple. “You tell me if anything feels wrong.”
“It doesn’t.” She drags her nails down my back. “It feels perfect. Keep going.”
I do.
I slide all the way in, hips grinding against hers, and she gasps loud enough to echo off the bedroom walls. Her hands grip my shoulders like she’s holding on for dear life. Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me in tighter with each thrust.
I find a rhythm that makes her breath catch, that makes her arch into me and bury her face in my neck. I’m not moving hard, not yet—I’m moving deep, slow, angled.
When her breath starts to break, I know she’s close again.
“I feel it,” she whispers. “Oh my god—Ethan?—”
“Don’t fight it.”
Her body locks up. She cries out, clenches around me, and comes hard again, nails digging into my back, thighs trembling.
