He moves his hand from my thigh, grasps himself, guides himself to my opening.
At last, I take him. I take him a millimeter at a time I ease myself down, my hands spread on his chest as the tip of his cock slides into me and I open, stretching, filling.
It almost hurts, but not quite. It’s a sensation right on the edge of pain, right at my limit.
If he moved it would hurt. If I went too fast it would hurt but he’s gentle, patient, lets me go at my own pace. After a moment he lets his cock go, touches my clit with his thumb lightly.
“Is this okay?” he asks, and I nod. He strokes me and I keep moving, up and down, slowly working him inside me, and then he hits the spot.
I groan and Caleb moves the tiniest bit, his hips flexing and his cock throbbing. I gasp at the quick pinch of pain but then it’s gone and he’s deeper, pressing against a spot I’ve found before on my own but holy shit, never like this. Never anything like this.
“Did I hurt you?” he murmurs, and I just shake my head, dig my fingers into his shoulders.
“I’m fine,” I murmur.
I’m fighting with myself, caught between the almost-pain, the knowledge that I’m on the edge of it, and the instinctual, primal urge to ride Caleb as hard as I possibly can.
I know I need to be careful, take it slow, this first time at least, but I don’t want to. I don’t want to at all.
“Fine?” he asks, thumb still drawing slow circles over my clit, his hand slippery with lube and my own wetness.
“Good,” I say, voice low and rough, and as I say it I flex my hips and move back and for one second there’s another pinch but then it moves his cock against that spot again, harder and longer.
This time I moan out loud, and this time I don’t care that it might hurt and I take him deeper, harder.
Caleb groans, and even though it was too deep and too hard and I should stop, I don’t because it also feels so good that I don’t think I can. I don’t think I can do anything but ignore the sensation that I’m at my limit and take all of him, every last millimeter, my fingers and toes curling and his thumb moving faster on my clit.
I’m whimpering, my eyes half-closed, my lips parted. My hips are barely moving against his but it’s all I can take, stretched and filled, my whole body a live wire.
“Still good?” he rasps.
“So good,” I half whisper, half whimper. I swallow, gulp air, lean in, rock back on his cock.
I find that perfect angle again and I groan, my eyes going closed and slowly, carefully, I ease into a rhythm of small, shallow strokes as he strums my clit.
“Fuck, it’s so good,” I breathe, barely aware of what I’m saying. “God, you feel so good.”
“Tell me how much you like it,” he growls, and his other hand wanders up my body, caressing me. His cock twitches and I inhale sharply then moan, every single movement magnified times a hundred.
“Do that again,” I say, taking his hand, sliding his palm over one breast, his callouses skipping over my nipple. “Please?”
He moves, barely, and my body trills a quick warning but it’s lost among the feeling that I’m a symphony in crescendo.
“You like that?” he says, doing it again, his voice raspy and heavy, his breathing hard and fast. “Just like that?”
“Yes,” I breathe. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop. God, more, don’t stop. Don’t stop, don’t stop…”
Now I’ve got his hand in both of mine, his knuckles pressed to my lips, eyes closed, and I can barely move but I’m rocking back and forth on his cock and he’s thrusting barely, just barely, and it almost almost hurts and I can barely breathe but I manage to whisper I’m gonna come oh God Caleb I’m gonna come so hard, and then I do.
I come so hard it hurts, so hard I nearly fall over, Caleb’s hand clutched in mine. I shout into his knuckles and whimper and say oh God oh God. I’m wracked. I feel like I’m melting, like I’m a bell being rung for the first time.
It fades slowly, into an afterglow that makes me dizzy, lightheaded. I kiss Caleb’s knuckles again and he stops stroking my clit, moves both hands to my hips, pulls me down another millimeter.
“I love the way you feel when you come,” he whispers, and then he explodes inside me, throbbing and pulsing. He grabs my hips even harder, the muscles in his arms flexing and I rock back, wanting more of him. I need more. In this moment, fuzzy-headed and sated, I feel powerful and wildly possessive, like I’ve been blessed that he’s mine and this is mine, and also like I want to go exact blood revenge for anyone else who’s ever seen him this way.