“More,” I begged and didn’t care how needy it sounded.
Asher withdrew, but only to add lube and return. One finger became two, and the pressure returned with minimal discomfort that morphed into pleasure even quicker.
“More. Fuck, give me more.” I writhed and arched, canting my hips to fuck his fingers.
His arm muscles flexed, chest heaving almost as hard as my own. “Oh, sweetheart. You’re a fuckin’ dream. You like my fingers so much?”
“Yes, but I want your cock. Fuck me, Asher.”
“You think you’re ready? I’ve only opened you with three.” He never slowed as he asked. His erection lay against my leg he clutched like a pillow.
“Yes. Yes, I’m ready, please.”
“Mmm. I like you beggin’.”
“I’ll beg you every day, then. Please, fuck me, Playboy.”
Asher scraped the inside of my knee with his teeth, then slowly pulled free again. I didn’t care for the empty feeling one bit. I was too open, reminded of the vulnerable gaping of my soul I’d created for him to fill.
“Hurry,” I hissed as he rolled the condom on.
“Hold your horses, sweet thang. I’ve never actually done this before.”
I chuckled, which made him do the same, never taking his gaze from where he pinched the tip and guided the latex down his length.
“There,” he said with finality.
“More lube.”
“Right.”
As he slicked himself, then added more to his fingers, I smiled. This couldn’t be any more perfect.
In the quiet recesses of my mind, I’d thought of this moment. Thought of the person, the place, the factors that would lead me here. This … This man, this point in time, had never been among those wonderings.
Never had I imagined myself so nervous yet so at ease at the same time. I’d often pictured the shame. I would’ve welcomed my partner’s criticism as something deserved. I was too old to be a virgin, too inept, too spoiled, too privileged to feel anxiety at something so intrinsic to life.
None of that was this, though. I waited. I held my breath. Nothing came. No fear, no recoil, no humiliation.
We were in this together.
Asher stuffed the added lube into me. Some of the resistance returned, but it wasn’t like before.
“Okay,” he breathed.
He shuffled closer on his knees, then aligned himself with me, notching his tip at my opening. With a little push, he breached me the smallest amount.
“Mmm, damn,” he muttered, then came over me. My legs lifted as he did, wrapping around his trim waist.
He pushed deeper, his grin spreading with every centimeter. At first, it wasn’t as bad as my mind had warned, but then it was.
“Oh, fuck,” I hissed and tilted my head back. “Oh, fuck, that’s deep.”
“Too much?” He kissed my throat, so gentle in comparison to how he ruthlessly kept splitting me open.
I shook my head. “No. No. More, fuck.”
He stopped. “Wait. No more or no period more period?”
