She’s more tense than she realized as he curls those digits up into her, working her open and letting her grind against the heel of his hand until her muscles relax and flutter, gripping him with want instead of tension.
There’s something intoxicating about having control over the situation. Which is odd, considering she’s on her back with his hand between her legs, but she’s an active participant. If she asked him to do something differently, he would. If she told him to stop, he would.
A lifetime of being told that she’s nothing more than breeding stock is a hard thing to overcome in a single day, and she’s certain there are more layers to that which she’ll have to unfuck for herself, but at the moment, she’s learning exactly what it means to be with someone she loves instead of someone she’s been gifted to.
Her hips twist and jerk, seeking friction, and he takes the obvious hint to firm up those strokes. She unravels so quickly that she hardly feels it building until she’s already gone.
It’s the first time in her life that she’s come without her own hand. Isn’t prepared for the difference between doing it herself and letting someone get her there. The crash slams into her hard enough that handling the strength of it feels impossible and overstimulating. Her back bows off the bed, and her thighs shake, her nails scraping along the scarred edges of his back, and her body spasming so deeply that it traps her in a rolling cycle of push and pull.
She trusts that her body won’t actually break apart and lets him work her until she’s pleasantly numb.
Her first coherent thought after coming down from the rush is that they’re going to have so much sex, and she can’t wait.
Her whine when he lifts off her, kneeling between her spread thighs to grab a condom, is pitiful, and she might be embarrassed if she wasn’t so completely wrecked. It’s all she can do to catch her breath as her pulse slams against her frame.
And then she gets a good look at him, thick and heavy, bobbing hard in the cool air as he rolls the condom onto himself, and she swallows hard. He is so much bigger than anything she’s seen with her own two eyes, let alone felt.
“Easy,” he soothes a careful hand over where she’s heated and swollen, still sparking with aftershocks. “We’re gonna take it real slow, alright?”
She nods as he fits his hips down against her again, thrusting along the outside to slick his shaft in all that wetness dripping down onto the sheets.
If she thought two of his fingers were a stretch, she is wholly unprepared for the burn as the swollen tip pushes into her. For a moment, she’s convinced she can’t actually take him, and her grip on his hips tightens, a crease forming between her brow. She wants him, but she’s struggling. When he stills, resting just far enough in to tease at the edges of her tight muscles, she exhales in relief at the same time she rocks against him to ask for more.
It would be so simple for him to join them together quickly, but he only nudges in half an inch and then pulls back again, massaging her with the very tip of his cock while he sucks at the throbbing pulse in her neck until she can’t control how badly she needs him.
The moment she tilts her hips, he presses harder, harder, until her body finally opens around him, clasping around thethick flare of his tip. It is easier after that, and little by little she takes the rest of him until their pubic bones meet, and she is so full that the pressure has her trembling.
And then he moves, dragging almost all the way out before pushing in again in one smooth stroke, her body swallowing his cock like it never struggled at all. She whimpers, throwing her head back as she begins to rock with the sway of his movements.
“Look at me, sweetheart,” he nearly begs.
He looks down at her with the kind of awestruck reverence that burrows so deeply into her soul she almost needs to look away before it burns her. She doesn’t. She holds his stare as they move together, slow at first, until he leans up a fraction to hook one arm under her knee and pull her leg up, opening her further as he sinks in deep enough that she’s shunted up the bed with every stroke.
When he collapses against her again, a groan escaping his lips into their kiss, she clings to him with a hard press of her thighs, locking him in place with her legs as he trembles and jerks. She’s denied the warm rush of his release due to the condom, but the warmth of his chest sliding against hers, and the intensity of his orgasm twitching within her, has to be enough. For now.
They lay in the aftermath, sweat slicked and sated, his breath puffing into the side of her neck, and their heartbeats chasing each other.
“Hey…” Her fingers sift through soft strands of his hair until he lifts his head to meet her eyes.
“Hey.”
“Can we do that again?”
His chuckle travels down into his cock, shaking it where he’s still buried deep.
They’re gonna need a hell of a lot more condoms.
* * *
Three Years Later
“Hey, are you ready for today?”
Addison finds Wyatt where he usually is when he’s overthinking something. Braced on the railing of the back fence, watching the goats chase each other across the field.
“Yeah, it’ll be fine. Quick run, get in and out. We’ll grab the panels and be back before dinner. Where’s Emma?”
“She’s cleaning the rifle. You know how she is about that thing,” she says with a smirk, watching him scowl.
