“Not on your life,” he says, keeping his fingers moving exactly the way they are. It’s like a spark arcing between two connection points. One moment I’m deep in pleasure and the next that pleasure is roaring. A bright orgasm that hits me fast and makes me gasp. “Ohhhhh,” it’s the only sound I know how to make, and I’m even wetter now than I was when he started.
I look up at him, and he’s staring down at me. While I’m watching he lifts his fingers to his mouth and licks them. He groans and closes his eyes like he’s just eaten a good desert, and I shudder with renewed need. Watching him do that—taste me—is more powerful than I ever could have imagined. “You taste fucking good,” he says. I swear his voice has dropped lower, and now I’m blushing. “And I loved watching that.”
“I want to see you,” I say.
Eric understands what I mean, because he stands up, quickly stripping off his jeans, and then his boxers, and he’s naked in front of me. And he’s gorgeous. The same lean physique that I’ve seen when we’ve been swimming flows down his legs into muscular things, and him. He’s hard and long and this is very, very real.
“Can I touch you?” I reach out for him, and his breath catches when I touch his heated skin. It’s a strange sensation for something to be so hard and so soft at once. It jumps when I run my fingers down the side, and Eric’s eyes are dark, completely focused on me.
He has a condom—because he was prepared—and I watch in fascination as he rolls it on. It makes him look larger. He doesn’t seem small to me, not that I have any experience.
Lying down together, Eric kisses me again, slowly moving us so that he’s between my legs, and he’s pressing against me, guiding himself to my entrance. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he says.
“Go slow.”
He fits himself where he needs to be, and that first press of him makes me close my eyes. It’s so strange and so good. Already I feel full, but I know that this is just the beginning. Eric does move slowly, easing deeper with his hips a fraction at a time.
There is some pain, sharp and brief, and I gasp. But I grab Eric’s arms and tell him to keep going. It feels good and uncomfortable and new. I don’t want him to stop. And he doesn’t, until he’s deep inside me. Deeper than I thought he’d be able to go.
“God, Persephone,” he says when he’s all the way inside me, leaning down so our faces are close. “You feel amazing.”
“So do you.”
Suddenly I’m fighting tears, and I blink them away. I never thought I would be the girl that cries during sex. But it’s not the sex that’s doing it. It’s us. The closeness we have. I can scarcely breathe. As long as I live, I don’t know that I’ll ever feel this again. We’ve bared our souls to each other, and I know that I’ll never be the same.
“Are you okay?”
I nod. My body is easing. Getting used to the feeling of him. It’s an instinct when I squeeze down on him, and he moans. “Do that again.” I do, and he curses. “That feels…fuck.”
Eric moves his hips, and it’s my turn to moan. It’s time. We both feel it. He starts to move, slowly. “Okay?”
“Yes,” I say. “Please.”
A little harder, and there’s a slight edge of pain that’s overridden by the pleasure I’m feeling. I’ve already come so my body is ready to do it again. A breeze blows mist onto us from the waterfall and I shiver.
It feels good. Different than I had imagined.
Eric braces his arms beside me, moving inside me, eyes closed. He’s moving with slow precision, steadily building. Reaching out, I place my hands on either side of his face. He opens his eyes with a start. “You’re holding back.”
“I won’t last if I go any faster.”
I smile, because he’s being sweet. But I want him to feel what I felt. That sweet pleasure and release because of another person. “I don’t care,” I say. “I want you to feel good too.”
He stops holding back, thrusting with erratic power, and I hold on to him, letting him take. It still feels amazing, having him this deep. The echoes of pleasure are ringing around in my body and I let myself sink into the sensation of his movement and delicious release.
Eric groans, driving into me one final time, and I feel him move inside me as he comes. He nearly collapses on top of me, and he’s breathing hard. Lips find my cheek, pressing. “Are you okay.”
“I’m great,” I whisper.
“I don’t want to move,” he says quietly.
I shake my head. “Don’t.” There’s something about this—resting with him on me, still inside me. It’s like a moment that was meant to be.