“So there’s only one way to get you stop talking,” I say, shaking my head.
“Oh?” she wriggles her eyebrows adorably.
I glide my cock to her pussy and drag the head through her folds, relishing the hot, slick feel of her skin against mine. Her mouth drops open and she does this little whimper. “Mmm. Mmm.”
Her eyes flutter closed as I gently place the head of my cock right at her entrance.
“There, baby. Just relax.”
I love the way her shoulders rise when she draws in a deep breath.
“If anything’s too much, you tell me.”
She nods. “It isn’t. More. More.”
I groan, trying hard to hold myself back. I want to drive into her. Feel her gripping me. Own her.
“I need you to know this, that I can stop at any time. You got that?”
She holds my face in her hands, her eyes bright with excitement and need. “Thank you for that. Now fuck me. Please?”
With a gentle push, I enter her.
I stifle a groan myself. She’s so tight, so hot, squeezing my cock with perfection. I don’t want to hurt her, so I don’t move, just stay like that with her pussy hugging my cock. I kiss the apple of her cheek, light pink and slightly damp, and hold myself just like that.
“That feels so good, Miguel. I love the feel of you inside me. But don’t be afraid of hurting me. I know you won’t. Don’t hold yourself back.”
I have to. If I let myself go, I’ll hurt her. Still, a gentle thrust breaks past her barrier. She tightens just a bit.
“Does it hurt?”
“Only a little.”
Slowly, so slowly it’s almost painful, I work a rhythm that eases the pain, gentle friction that makes her sigh into me.
“Yesssss. God, yes, please. Please, Miguel. Don’t stop. You aren’t hurting me.”
I love the feel of her arms around my neck as I work a perfect rhythm, and my cock throbs inside her.
“Yesss,” she whispers, and she begins to move with me, each of us milking pleasure from the other until I can’t think beyond my need for release. I love the way she gives in to this, the way her legs wrap around me, the way she’s totally abandoned. She pants, her grip tightens, then she moans out loud as she clenches and climaxes.
“Miguel, oh God, yes,” she says, as I climax right on the heels of her own pleasure.
“Oh my God,” she moans when we come down from release. “That was so damn exquisite. Exquisite.”
“Yeah, baby,” I whisper, holding her to me gently. “It was perfect.”
The best I’ve ever had. Bar fucking none.
She lets me clean us up, then we sit in the moonlight, each sipping a drink.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“For what?”
Her hair’s all tousled and the sheet’s haphazardly strewn over one shoulder. She’s got bite marks and hickies, and her lips are beautifully swollen. She’s been well and properly fucked, and I couldn’t be prouder that she gave that to me. “For making my first time so memorable.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?” she asks, with a grin.
“For making that so perfect. Hey!” I fall back when she whacks me with a pillow.
“You’re joshing me!”
“Joshing you? For real?” God, this girl’s words.
“You are! Teasing me. Taking the piss outta me!”
“I’m not!” I dodge another pillow whomp and pluck the pillow from her hand, tossing it to the other end of the bed.
“Figures,” she says with a smirk. “Your bed’s the size of Everest, and now I can’t reach the pillow.”
“Only you have pillow fights after fucking.”
“That wasn’t a fight. That was like a whaddyacallit. Skirmish. Practice.”
“Practice?”
The next thing I know, I’m practically knocked straight off the bed when she wallops me upside the head with my body pillow.
“That, kind sir, was a pillow fight.”
“Oh yeah?”
Game on.
I block one smack while I fist another pillow, then slam her with it while she squeals with laughter. I dodge, get up on my knees, grab another pillow and double-whammy her.
“Uncle!” she finally screams under a barrage of pillow smacks. “Oh my God, I’d rather be spanked.”
I toss the pillows onto the bed and fall back, panting. I yank her on top of me and squeeze her ass. “I can arrange that.”
Chapter 17
Samantha
I fall asleep in the most unladylike of positions, mouth open, arm strewn over my head, wrapped up in one of his tees. I’ve been well fed, properly spanked, thoroughly fucked, and all that was finished off with a bit of a nightcap. In other words, I sleep like a drugged woman.
I wake at dawn to the gorgeous view of Miguel’s muscular shoulders etched in morning light. He’s on his belly, still dead asleep, his arms all gorgeously bunched muscle tucked under his pillow. He’s gently snoring.
I could watch him forever like this. He looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping, none of the cares of the world marring his features or tracing age lines across his brow, no frown marring his perfect lips. He looks young and carefree.