He called me his. A ribbon of deep emotion wound through my insides.
The thick head of his cock dragged through my wet, open lips again and again, teasing me. I didn’t know if he was trying to torture me, or if he was asking for permission. “Yes,” I breathed into his lips, kissing him dreamily as I pulled him as close as I could, my legs spreading wider.
He locked his gaze with mine as he slowly pressed inside me, earning every gasp, every sigh. I’d never been vocal in bed before, but I wasn’t in control of myself at the moment. The way his warm eyes sparkled with every noise I released made me feel even more connected to him.
He paused, letting my body adjust to his thickness. “Is this too much?”
I grinned into his lips. “More,” I whispered.
He moved slowly, his gentle strokes opening me wide for his amazing girth. His fingers tensed against my back as he softly hit bottom, so deep there was nowhere else to go as he was still for a moment. “Bailey,” he groaned. “You feel so perfect.”
Daniel wasn’t fucking me, he was losing himself inside me. I’d never felt so utterly worshiped. His slow, tender motions made me feel like I’d stepped into another reality. In what world was a man like this so romantic?
His thumb tugged at my bottom lip while he melted my eyes with his, before reaching lower to twist my nipple carefully between his fingers. My little cry seemed to amuse him, and his lips found my throat as I arched back, submitting completely.
He wasn’t taking me, he was making me. Making me surrender to the moment, making me his. Making me happy.
My fingers caressed the back of his firm, wide shoulders, pulling him close as his skin warmed me straight through. His body moving inside mine, flesh against wet flesh, was making me feel so high I was nearly dizzy.
His speed increased slightly, and I watched him check my eyes. “Yes,” I whispered.
That saucy grin unraveled me, as he freed one hand, licking his fingers with a wink. He found my clit as if it had a homing beacon, his touch flaring through my entire body. My tiny gasps couldn’t be stopped. The soft, steady brushing over my nerves increased my moaning, letting him read me. Know me.
His patience in letting my body adapt to his sent pangs of sweetness echoing through my heart. Logic be damned – my body yearned for his touch, his heat. His comfort.
My thighs wrapped around his hips, pulling him deeper. The pressure inside me was incredible, every nerve ending confused and overjoyed at once. “Oh!” I cried out, shocked by the intensity of the heat, the electricity surging through me. “Daniel... Yes...” The deep flutter in my center swelled, growing too big for my body to contain it, rippling outward.
r /> I could feel my eyes and mouth stretching wide, helpless as I relinquished command of my body completely, not recognizing my choked, sharp squeals. Feeling his thick cock swelling inside me was indescribable, as I twitched under him.
Each scorching thrust grew even deeper, faster, and the thrill of making him lose a shred of control sent shivers through every nerve all over again.
“Bailey, baby,” he growled softly, kissing my throat as he buried himself deep in my soaking pussy while I came quivering under him.
My fingers gripped the back of his hair, his shoulders desperately as the waves continued ringing through me. “Yes,” I cried, then I felt his back muscles clench. He kissed me almost roughly as I felt him throb and jerk, his delicious wet heat flowing through me. Rocking against him, I was thrilled by the way he was overcome, as if were surrendering to me as well, every thrust driving us both wild.
Slowly calming down, he lifted his weight onto his forearms carefully, kissing me softly, dreamily. Finally he sat up, rolling and pulling me onto his chest. He was watching my eyes for a reaction, but I didn’t know what to say.
A giggle burst out of me that I couldn’t control. He simply raised an eyebrow, waiting. “I feel like I’m supposed to say something profound, but my brain isn’t braining at the moment,” I babbled.
Daniel’s rumbling chuckle shook my head slightly. “Bailey, gorgeous, that was...” He poked his forehead. “Nope. No words there.” His fingertips ran down the side of my jaw as we quietly caught our breath together.
With all of the secrets I had to keep locked away, I felt that I should reveal what I could to him. “Confession time. I’m actually embarrassed by how badly I needed that.”
Sitting up, he held me tightly against him. “Me too, baby.”
I’d never liked it when any man called me ‘baby’. It was dismissive. Diminishing. Reductive. But the word sounded so different from his lips. It was a term of sweetness. A true endearment. It made me feel strangely girlish and fluttery.
“Hey,” he said, holding my left arm out, checking the bandage. “You weren’t moving this too much, right? I was trying to be careful.”
His warm eyes were filled with such genuine concern that I had to swallow hard. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? You look upset. Does it hurt?”
I tried to laugh while blinking back tears. “I’m just not used to anyone being this sweet with me.” I immediately regretted saying that, as he looked a bit disturbed for a split second. I drummed my fingers on his chest lightly, trying to make him laugh. “It’s an alien concept. My brain still can’t do brain things. I think we might need a glass of wine to recover.”
“Good idea,” he grinned. He bundled me back up in my robe, and threw his shorts back on, blissfully staying shirtless.
I cracked a bottle of red and found some glasses as we curled up in the living room.