The way his brows draw together tells me that’s a definiteno.
“Why the fuck would you do that?”
“I’m all… sweaty, like I just played a round of tennis or something.”
“And you’ll get sweatier and soon you’ll have my come leaking from your pussy onto your thighs. I don’t give a shit about that. You’ll fucking shower when we’re done, woman.”
Alrighty, then, Mr. Caveman.
I gasp when he takes my wrists in his hands and pushes them onto the bed. The loss of control and the spike of fear make my pulse race. I wonder if he’ll kiss me, and then I wonder if I’ll taste myself on him, and then I stop wondering things altogether as he parts my legs with his knee and I feel the massive, hardened length of him on my belly. He must’ve taken off those boxer briefs before he came up on the bed.
Oh, my.
Did he remember the part about me being a virgin?
I hold my breath when he whispers against my ear, “Try to relax as much as you can. It might hurt a little, and this isn’t the way I’m going to hurt you.”
Oh, so that’s lovely. Glad he isn’t even pretending he doesn’t want to hurt me. Just notsexhurt, but his palm or belt can do that job.
Got it.
I draw in a breath.
Try to relax.
Both of my wrists are gathered in one hand as he guides his thick cock to my entrance. I feel the slickness between us, and now I know why he made me come first. I’m wet and pliant and as ready for his cock as ever.
I can’t breathe for fear of what it will feel like when he glides into me. I’m glad he isn’t making me look at him this time, because it’s easier to focus on relaxing when I close my eyes and try to breathe.
“Relax, Marialena,” he repeats, this time his tone harder.
The head of his cock throbs at my entrance. No condom. No birth control. Like most men like him, he wants to take me bare, and if children come as a result, so be it.
Slowly, he pushes further in me. I’m full and wet and my pussy clenches around him. Further.Further.I’m impossibly full, and it feels now like he’s so far in me he’s going to hit my lungs. I draw in a deep breath and remind myself that’s not how anatomy works.
It hurts a little, a stinging sensation of stretching flesh that’s never been stretched quite that far before, but I wouldn’t say it’s unbearable. It’s a strangely good kind of hurt, the kind that feels right and natural.
The next thrust stretches me deeper. I gasp and my arms tighten around his neck. He’s so big, I feel as if he’s tearing me open, but as soon as I brace, he slows.
“Does that hurt?”
I nod. “A little.” Now that he isn’t pushing, it’s not as bad, but when he does, it aches.
“Breathe with me,” he whispers. I do. He takes in a deep breath, and I breathe with him,in.A little more of a thrust.Out.A little further in again until I feel him fully in me, stretching. A glimmer of pleasure sparks with the first feel of friction and the walls of my sex clenching around him.
“There it is. Good girl. Relax and breathe.”
I close my eyes and breathe with him as he gently slides his cock past my barrier, deeper still, until he’s fully submerged to the hilt. He stays like that for a moment, and I relish the sound of his own groans. “So tight, so wet, so fuckin’perfect,” he mutters. “Jesus, Marialena.”
A shiver of pleasure washes over me, and a second when he slowly increases the tempo of his thrusts. The flash of pain melds to pleasure. Our bodies were meant for this, this coupling and sharing, this joined comfort and bliss. His sounds of pleasure only increase mine.
I’m lost to the weight of his body atop mine, the friction he builds between us, the pulsing need that’s returned with a vengeance. I’m vaguely aware of the shadow of pain quickly fading with each perfect, blissful thrust.
“How are you doing?” he whispers.
I thread my fingers through his hair, suddenly craving the intimacy. Grateful that he cares.
“Ready to come again,” I whisper. “Fuck me, Salvatore.”