“You feel so… big, and you’re not even in me yet.” I don’t know why I’d said those words, but I saw this absolutely primal expression cover his face after I spoke them.
He leaned in and rested his forehead against mine, and we gasped against each other’s mouths. “You sure you’re ready?”
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders again, and did the same with my legs around his waist. “I’ve never been surer, Jameson.”
“I love you,” he said against my cheek. “I love you, Lia.”
I closed my eyes, not reading into it. Loving someone and being in love with someone were two very different things.
“I love you, too,” I said, the truth in those words so real I teared up.
And then he started to push inside of me, stretching me, thrusting those thick inches into my virgin body, giving himself to me just as I was doing the same to him.
I let my head fall back against the mattress and closed my eyes, pushing past the discomfort, noting he moved slowly, giving me time to really feel him and get used to the sensations. It felt like I was burning alive, stretched in two, so fully penetrated I couldn't even catch my breath.
And then Jameson was buried to the hilt inside of me, his cock so thick and long, so hard and filling me up completely. For long moments he didn’t move, just stayed there, his cock twitching, my inner muscles clamping down.
“You doing okay?” he asked right by my ear, and I nodded, not trusting my voice.
In and out. Slow. Steady. Jameson moved within me like he thought I’d break. I wanted to tell him I wanted it all, fast and hard, completing me and consuming me.
“Oh, Lia. Christ.” He grunted. “You feel so fucking good wrapped around me.” He pulled back, his arms straight on either side of my head, his skin tight. Seeing all of that hard muscle flexing under golden flesh had a shiver working through me.
He felt so deep inside of me.
“More,” I whispered and Jameson made this low sound in the back of his throat before he pulled almost all the way out, the head poised at my entrance, then slammed back into me.
I arched my back, tipped my head, and closed my eyes as that discomfort started being pushed away and pleasure took control.
His movements became fluid. Steady. Even.
The sound of wet skin slapping together, of sex meeting sex, of grunts and groans filled my head.
Thrusting in. Pulling out. Pushing in deep, retreating until just the head was lodged in me.
Jameson had his eyes closed, a fine sheen of sweat all over his body. He clenched his jaw and relaxed it. Clenched and relaxed. He was the perfect male specimen. Strong and virile, masculine and powerful.
“Lia,” he moaned and rested his chest back on mine, went back to kissing me while never stopping his even thrusting. “That’s it.” His voice was tight. “God… fuck, yeah.” His words were clipped and heated, his pleasure evident. He slammed into me once, twice, and on the third time stilled, pulling back and staring into my eyes, making me feel every last hard, big inch of him. “Tell me this is as perfect for you as it is for me.”
I swallowed hard and nodded.
He shook his head. “Say it. Say the words.”
“It’s more than I could have ever dreamed of.” And god wasn’t that the truth. This would hurt in the morning, and not in a physical sense. I knew this was a once in a lifetime thing between us.
Jameson started thrusting in and out of me again, his motions faster, harder as if he were losing control. “Come on, Lia. Give me another one. Let go for me again.”
His words were my undoing.
I felt myself falling over the edge once more, and climaxed long and hard, moaning softly as pleasure slammed into me. He kept up the thrusting until I sagged back on the bed, spent and exhausted, my body singing in pleasure.
The heavy weight of his muscles pressed to every single inch of me, having my pussy clench around him in need, causing my blood to catch on fire all over again. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, the sound of him inhaling deeply an auditory orgasm.
“Mine, Lia. God… so mine.” He ran his tongue up the side of my neck and I arched up against him, moaning at the feel, loving how he started moving once more, still so hard in me, not yet finished.
I was helpless to try and grasp what was happening, to comprehend what I was doing, what we were doing together. I was lightheaded from the way he made me feel, from the rush of the alcohol moving through my veins, from the fire surrounding us.
“Yes,” I breathed out. “So good, Jameson. More.”