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“That was less erotic than promised.”
“Manage your expectations, Paul.”
His smile fades when I slick my fingers.
I sit back on his thighs, knees wide, and touch myself carefully. The first press makes my whole body lock up.
I breathe, try again. One finger slips in slowly. I make a sound I would deny in court.
I work myself open above him, awkward at first, then less. Paul watches like moving would break something. I use his chest for balance, his body warm and solid under my palms. My thighs ache from the horse. My ass is sore from falling into the ocean. My heart is sore from every other thing.
But my body starts to understand. Pressure, burn, then give. I add more lube and another finger. My breath stutters.
Paul’s hand slides up my thigh, not guiding, just there.
“You’re beautiful,” he says.
“Don’t say that when I’m about to sit on a dick.”
“Sexy as hell?”
“That’s better.”
I bend forward and kiss him again because if he keeps looking at me like that, I might say something worse than love. Something like stay. Something neither of us can afford tonight.
When I sit back, his cock is slick in my hand. I rise over him, one hand braced on his chest, the other holding him steady.
The head of his cock presses against me, and my whole body says no out of habit. I breathe through it.
Paul goes utterly still beneath me.
“Better horse,” I whisper.
His laugh is barely a breath. “Better rider.”
I lower myself slowly.
The stretch is sharp enough to make my eyes sting. I stop after barely taking him, teeth clenched, thighs shaking.
“Fuck,” I breathe.
“Yes,” he says, voice wrecked. “That’s the basic idea.”
A laugh punches out of me, and the movement makes me take another inch. Or mile. Who’s measuring.
“Oh, that was a mistake.”
“Do not laugh your way onto me.”
I drop my forehead to his. For a minute, we just breathe there. Mouths almost touching. My body tight around him. His restraint trembling under me.
I sink lower. More burn. More pressure. More impossible opening.
And then, suddenly, the impossible gives, and I take him all the way.
My breath disappears. The room does too.
There’s only fullness and heat. Paul underneath me, inside me, holding still and waiting to see what I do with this.
