Page 73 of Nash
My head lowers, and I give her everything. With my tongue, I circle her clit in fast, tight, relentless circles as my fingers curl inside her in the rhythm her body has been begging for. She breaks in stages. First, her thighs clamp against my head. Then her back lifts off the mattress. Her hand pulls my hair hard enough to sting. She says my name once, twice, three times, each one louder, rawer, until the last one isn't a word anymore. It's just sound, pure, wrecked, shaking through her whole body.
She goes limp against the mattress, gasping, her fingers loosening in my hair.
I kiss my way up her stomach. Her ribs. The space between her breasts. Her collarbone. Her throat. She's still trembling when I reach her mouth and kiss her, letting her taste herself on my tongue.
"Why?" she breathes against my lips. Her hands find my belt and start working it open. "Why is it like this with you? Why do I want to push every button you have, but the second you take control I—" She pulls my belt free and tosses it on the floor. "I've never wanted someone to tell me what to do. I argue with everyone. Fight everything. But when you say hands down, my whole body just..." She unbuttons my jeans. "Why do I like it?"
I push my jeans and boxers down before kicking them off. Her eyes drop to my hard, thick cock, and her breath catches. Her tongue wets her bottom lip and her thighs press together.
"Because you carry everything," I say. I press her back against the mattress, settling my weight between her thighs. My cock rests against her pussy, the contact making us both exhale. "You fill every room. Hold every silence. You make sure everyonearound you is taken care of before you even think about yourself. You've been doing it so long you forgot what it feels like to put it down."
I roll my hips once. The head of my cock drags through her folds, slick, swollen, and she whimpers. The sound goes straight to my spine.
"When someone you trust takes that weight off you, when you can stop controlling everything because someone else is holding the structure..." I reach down between us and position myself at her entrance. The heat of her against my tip makes my jaw clench. "You can finally let go."
"Nash." Her voice is barely a whisper.
"It's not about being quiet. It's not about giving up who you are."
I push inside her slowly. The first inch goes in, and her pussy grips me so tight my vision blurs. I hold still, letting her adjust, feeling her stretch around me, feeling how wet and hot she is. Her body pulls me deeper even as her muscles resist the width. Her eyes go wide, her mouth falling open on a gasp, nails digging into my shoulders.
"It's about trusting someone enough to stop carrying it all."
Another inch. Her back arches off the mattress. She's tight, impossibly tight, and the pressure of her clenching around my cock sends a tremor through my arms that I have to lock my elbows to control.
"Oh god." Her nails drag down my shoulders. "Nash."
"Breathe."
She exhales, shaking, and I push deeper. Her legs wrap around my waist, her heels pressing into my lower back, pulling me in. When I'm fully inside her, buried to the base, we both go still. Her pussy pulses around me, adjusting, gripping, the wet heat of her surrounding me so completely that the edges of my control start to burn.
I've waited months for this. Months of watching her across rooms, tracking her hands, memorizing her laugh, pulling back every time my body tried to close the distance. Now there's no distance. She's wrapped around me, her breath on my throat, and her heartbeat hammering against my chest. The reality of being inside her is more than any version I built on the other side of her bedroom wall.
"That's why you like it," I say against her ear. My hips pull back slowly, dragging my cock along her walls, and her whole body shudders. "Because you've been waiting for someone you can put it down with."
"Nash." Her voice breaks. "Move. Please move."
I move.
The first stroke is slow. Long. I pull almost all the way out and push back in, feeling every inch of her grip and release, the slick drag of her pussy along my shaft. Her mouth opens on a sound that starts as a moan and ends as my name. Her fingers dig into my back, holding on.
The second stroke is deeper. I angle my hips, searching for the spot my fingers found. When the head of my cock hits it, her entire body jerks.
"There," she gasps. "Right there, oh fuck—"
I set the pace. Controlled, every thrust deliberate. My hips roll into hers, grinding at the deepest point, pressing against the spot that makes her eyes lose focus. She tries to speed it up, rocking her hips, her heels digging into my back.
"Faster," she says.
"No."
"Nash, please—"
"Feel it."
"I'm feeling it, you absolute—"
She cuts off with a moan when I grind into her again deeply and hold myself inside her before circling my hips. Her head tipsback on the pillow, her throat exposed, and I press my mouth to her pulse point. Her skin tastes like salt and coconut. The sounds vibrating through her throat buzz against my lips.
