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Just the tip.

My breath catches.

He stretches me. Fills me. Even this small amount feels like too much.

"That's it." His voice is rough. Strained. "Just like that."

I sink down another inch.

My thighs tremble.

"Dante—"

"I know." His thumbs stroke circles on my hips. "I know, cara. You're doing so good."

Another inch.

I gasp.

My walls clench around him, trying to adjust, trying to accommodate his size. It's overwhelming. Too much. Not enough.

"More," I whisper.

"Take what you need."

I lower myself further.

Slowly.

So slowly.

Each inch is a revelation. A stretch. A burn that edges toward pleasure.

Dante's jaw is clenched. His neck corded with tension. He's holding himself perfectly still, letting me set the pace, but I can see what it costs him. See the restraint in every line of his body.

"You feel incredible," he grits out. "So tight. So wet."

Heat floods my cheeks.

I sink down more.

"That's it." His fingers dig into my hips. "Take all of me."

I do.

Finally.

I'm seated fully on him, his cock buried deep inside me, and I can't breathe.

He's everywhere.

Filling me completely.

"Marina." His voice is wrecked. "Look at me."

I open my eyes.

Didn't realize I'd closed them.