His groan came from somewhere deep in his chest. “You feel incredible.”
“So do you.”
“Better than Plundering John?”
“Fuck me harder, and I bet I’ll find out.”
“You truly are going to kill me, love.” Another inch. Then another. He was going slowly. Too slowly. I appreciated the care, but I wanted him to thrust home and fill me completely.
“Almost there,” he said, strain coming through in his voice.
When he finally bottomed out, I couldn’t think. All I could do was feel how full I was and how the vibration reached every nerve ending I had.
“Move,” I cried out.
“Not yet. You need a minute.”
“I don’t?—”
“Yes, you do.”
He stayed buried inside me, letting me adjust to his size. His thumb found my clit, circling in slow strokes that made my insides quiver.
“Tell me when,” he said.
“Plunder me now, please.”
He pulled out slowly, the ridges dragging, and I whimpered at the loss. Then he pushed back in, and the sensation was so intense I saw stars.
“Still alright?”
“Stop asking and fuck me.”
His expression changed. The careful control he’d been maintaining cracked enough that I could see his want and need underneath. The same desperation that had been building since the park bench, the welcome dinner, and the first time he’d said my name like it mattered.
He pulled out and thrust back in, harder this time. Then he found a rhythm that made my toes curl. The vibration increased with each stroke, the ridges hitting places I didn’t know existed. The sensation quivered up into my clit, which throbbed.
I wrapped my legs around his thighs, pulling him deeper.
“I’m not going to break,” I said between gasps. “Stop holding back.”
His next thrust was more forceful, and I cried out in pleasure.
“Better than John?” he asked.
“Fuck John.”
“No, it’s fuck Tolrek.”
He picked up his pace, pounding into me, and the vibration built until I was so close to falling apart I wanted to scream.
I was making sounds no one had dragged from me before.
“Look at me,” he said.
I opened my eyes.
“I want to watch you come.”
