Page 177 of Dante
Just the tip.
My breath catches.
He stretches me. Fills me. Even this small amount feels like too much.
"That's it." His voice is rough. Strained. "Just like that."
I sink down another inch.
My thighs tremble.
"Dante—"
"I know." His thumbs stroke circles on my hips. "I know, cara. You're doing so good."
Another inch.
I gasp.
My walls clench around him, trying to adjust, trying to accommodate his size. It's overwhelming. Too much. Not enough.
"More," I whisper.
"Take what you need."
I lower myself further.
Slowly.
So slowly.
Each inch is a revelation. A stretch. A burn that edges toward pleasure.
Dante's jaw is clenched. His neck corded with tension. He's holding himself perfectly still, letting me set the pace, but I can see what it costs him. See the restraint in every line of his body.
"You feel incredible," he grits out. "So tight. So wet."
Heat floods my cheeks.
I sink down more.
"That's it." His fingers dig into my hips. "Take all of me."
I do.
Finally.
I'm seated fully on him, his cock buried deep inside me, and I can't breathe.
He's everywhere.
Filling me completely.
"Marina." His voice is wrecked. "Look at me."
I open my eyes.
Didn't realize I'd closed them.
