She screams. Thighs clamping around my head. One hand tangled in my hair like she doesn’t know whether to push me away or pull me closer.
I don’t let up until she’s shaking.
Then I go gentle. Kisses. Slow licks. Nothing demanding.
She’s stares at me like I just cracked her open and rearranged her insides.
“Come here,” she breathes. Her voice wrecked. “Need you. Please.”
I kiss her thigh. Her stomach. Her ribs. Climb her like a man returning to a home he forgot he had.
Kiss her. Let her taste herself on my tongue.
Her hands fumble at my jeans. I help her, too desperate now to be patient, kicking them off along with my boxers.
She looks down. Her eyes go wide. “Oh,” she breathes.
Something possessive and male surges through me. Pride. Want. The need to be inside her right fucking now.
“We can stop,” I manage, even though stopping might actually kill me. “If you’re not.”
“Don’t you dare stop.” She wraps her hand around me.
I groan. Like a teenager getting touched for the first time.
Her hand strokes. Learning me the way I learned her.
“Stevie.” Warning. “If you keep doing that, I’m not going to last.”
“Then don’t last.” She pulls me closer. Positions me at her entrance. “I want you inside me.”
I push in. Slow. So fucking slow it’s torture.
She’s tight. Hot. Perfect. Gripping me like she doesn’t want to let go. Every inch feels impossible. Like I might break her. Like she might break me.
I pause halfway. Breathing hard. Watching her face.
Her eyes flutter open. Meet mine. “More,’ she whispers. “All of you.’
I sink in the rest of the way. Bury myself completely.
We both make sounds. Broken. Desperate.
She’s so full of me there’s no space left. No room for doubt or fear or anything except this.
“Okay?” I manage.
“More than okay.” She wraps her legs around me. Pulls me deeper. “Move. Please.”
I move. And I’m lost.
This isn’t fucking. I’ve fucked plenty of times. Hard and fast and thinking about nothing but the finish. This is different.
This is her eyes locked on mine. Her hands on my face, my shoulders, my back. Her breath mingling with mine. The sounds she makes, soft and desperate and real.
I move slow at first. Fighting every instinct that screams harder, faster, more. Watching her. Making sure she feels good. Making sure I’m not too rough, too much, too…
“Enzo.” Her voice breaks. “You’re holding back. Fuck me.”
