“Yes,” she said immediately. “But slowly, please.”
“I’d only ever go slow with this,” I said. “I want you to feel every inch of me inside here. I want you to feel every single second of how much you’ll love this.”
Her head dropped between her hands as I pushed the second finger inside her. “It feels so strange,” she said, sounding confused and also very, very horny. “I feel so full, but it feels so wrong, and yet I want more.”
“Like this?” I asked, moving my fingers carefully in and out, a slow and decadent motion that had her hips lifting to follow me. She was all hot velvet around my fingers, a tight heaven that made my stomach clench to feel.
“Yessss,” she hissed, rolling her head on the towel. “How do you do this to me? I’m a good girl. And I should hate you. And yet when you’re with me . . .”
I could ask her the same question, but truly, I was past that now. I was past wondering why it had to be her and how she’d turned me into an obsessed beast when I’d only ever been a person of control. When I’d only ever wanted brief, impersonal sex, as clean and contained as possible.
But the question no longer mattered, only the answer. She was the answer.
I withdrew my fingers and then moved her so she was lying stomach-down on a makeshift bed of towels. I found the toy again and turned it on, and then curled her fingers over it. “Put this underneath you, right against your clit,” I told her, murmuring low in her ear and then nipping at her earlobe. “You’ll use it to make yourself feel good as I ride your arse. Got it?”
She nodded against her forearm, taking the toy and wedging it underneath her.
“There’s a good pain and a bad pain with this,” I told her, straightening and finding the bottle of lube. “The good pain is like fullness. It makes your entire body light up. The bad pain is just pain, pure and simple.”
“How would you know?” she mumbled into her arm, her hips already moving as the toy tickled against her. “You’ve never done this.”
“Who says I haven’t?” I asked mischievously, dropping a kiss onto her shoulder before I straddled her legs. I rolled on a condom, slicked my erection with lube, and then added more to the now-pliant opening above her cunt. “They make many types of toys for gentlemen these days, and a boy gets awfully lonesome waiting for you.”
“Fuck, you’re dirty,” she moaned, her eyes fluttering closed. “I want to watch you use every filthy toy you own.”
It was a good thing I was behind her because I couldn’t stop the smug smile that played across my lips just then. “Sounds like you’re thinking about tomorrow,” I purred, setting the lube bottle aside. “And lots of tomorrows.”
“Don’t push your luck,” she panted, her hips entirely restless now. “Just fuck me already.”
“God, you’re bossy,” I said with a laugh. “Now hold still.” Uncharacteristically, she listened, and her hips went still enough for me to fist my slippery length and press the head against her entrance. The visual contrast of thick and small, my dusky cock and her ballet slipper pink pussy sent a clench of jagged need tearing through my groin. I had to suck in a deep breath to steady myself.
“The minute you need to stop, tell me,” I told her. “I won’t risk hurting you.” I wouldn’t risk hurting anyone—this kind of fucking required certain considerations and etiquette that I’d always adhered to—but there was more on the line than merely my pride in my sexual manners. She was on the line. All the tomorrows I needed were on the line. I had to prove to her I could give her the kind of dirty, wonderful things no other guy could.
“Okay,” she murmured. “Go slow, like you did with your fingers.”
“It’s the only good way to do it, baby. Slow.”
It took a tense second or two for the thick crown of my cock to press fully into her. Even though her pucker had been teased and pleasured into softness, it still took some effort to move past the rings of muscle, and even more effort still to keep myself from ejaculating as she panted and moaned beneath me. The noises she was making, the distant vibrations of the toy—and above all, the slippery, hot squeeze of her arse—were driving me fucking mental.
“Are you—are you shaking again?” she asked on a sharp inhale as I gave her another thick inch.
I managed to rasp out a rough, “Yeah.”
“Because it feels good?”
“There’re no words for how it feels,” I grunted. “Tight doesn’t even begin to cover it. Or hot.” I pushed in a bit farther, and then stopped, panting hard. The slick inside of her was massaging me, caressing me, and the pleasure was so big and so vast, I felt it beyond my erection. I felt it everywhere: in my balls, in the pit of my stomach, in my lips, and on the soles of my feet. “It feels so good that I could die. Like this is more than any man can take.”
I pushed in one more time, giving her all of me, and she made an indecipherable noise. I stilled my hips, reaching down to brush a damp strand of hair away from her temple. “Talk to me,” I said, looking over her shoulder into her face. “Does it hurt?”
“It’s the good pain, I think,” she said, blinking fast. “It’s uncomfortable, but also I think I—” She shivered underneath me, and then pleasure streaked hot and fast up the length of my organ, straight into my belly. She was moving underneath me, a small, tentative motion, but motion all the same.
She was fucking herself on me.
“Bloody hell,” I whispered, trembling even harder now. My hands shook, my abdomen clenched, and my thighs and chest went
