That was all I needed.
I pushed slowly inside of her, loving how her tight, warmth enveloped me.
A look of pain crossed her face, so I stopped moving. “You okay? Am I hurting you?”
She shook her head. “It’s been a while, that’s all.”
Fuck.
The thought that Marianne hadn’t had anyone in a long time shouldn’t make me so happy.
But it did.
I slid out, then pushed back in—even slower this time.
She let out a gasp.
But it wasn’t a good one.
I retreated.
This time for good.
After I rolled onto my back, I gathered her up in my arms.
“Why did you stop?” she asked, resting her chin on my chest.
“I’m not going to keep hurting you. It’s okay, we don’t have to fuck.” I rubbed her arm and kissed her forehead.
“But I want to fuck,” she said with a pouty look on her face.
I covered my eyes with my arm, then growled, “Don’t talk like that! You’re not helping.”
She laughed at me and placed a few kisses on my chest. “I’m fine.”
I peeked at her from under my arm. “You aren’t.”
She shrugged and played with my chest hair. “I’m sure I would be after a while.”
I let out a sigh. “That’s not my scene, darlin’. You know that. Either we both have a good time—or neither of us does.”
Her hand wandered down my chest—down my stomach—down to me.
“I was having a good time,” she said while her fingers wrapped themselves around my cock.
My hips instinctively pushed into her fist. “Is there something I can do to make it easier on you?”
Her hand kept moving. “I’m not sure. I haven’t had sex in ages.”
I hated that for her.
A woman like Marianne should have that kind of enjoyment.
And often.
I had to admit, though—the selfish bastard in me loved the fact she hadn’t.
“What about some lube? Would that help?” I asked as she continued to touch me.