Inch by inch. Kiss by kiss. Every time her body grips too tight, I stop and wait her out, my forehead against hers, my control hanging by a thread.
When I finally sink deep, she makes a soft, broken sound that almost ends me.
“You okay?”
She nods, eyes wet and beautiful. “Full.”
My jaw locks.
“Yeah, sweetheart. That’s me.” My mouth brushes hers. “Only me.”
Her breath catches.
I move once.
Barely.
Her body pulls at mine like she was made to ruin me. Her breath catches again, but this time there is pleasure under it. I feel the difference. Her hips tilt, shy and sweet, asking for more before her mouth can.
So I give her more.
Slow strokes. Deep ones. My thumb finding her clit because I want her lost in pleasure before she remembers any pain.
Her body tightens around mine.
“Ace,” she gasps.
“I’ve got you.” I kiss her hard, dirty and tender at once. “You’re mine right now, Reina. Mine to hold. Mine to make feel good.”
Her eyes go hazy.
“I feel it again.”
“Good.” I keep my mouth against hers. “Come for me.”
She breaks first, trembling under me, her mouth open on my name. I hold still as long as I can, feeling every pulse of her around me, every soft little claim her body makes on mine.
Then she whispers, “Ace,” again.
That’s all it takes.
I come buried deep, her name torn out of me, my whole body shaking like she’s the thing that finally takes me down.
For a long moment, there is only breath.
Then I ease away carefully, watching her face.
“Sore?”
“A little,” she whispers. “But okay.”
I get a warm cloth and clean her gently, then pull the blanket over her. She looks wrecked and soft in my bed, eyes heavy, cheeks pink.
Mine.
I don’t say it.
I feel it everywhere.
