Hey, Mister Marshall (St. Mary's Rebels 4)

“You had a condom in your wallet?” I ask as he settles himself over me.

“Been carrying it this whole time,” he rasps, adjusting me now, opening my thighs up, hiking them up around his naked hips so his pelvis locks with mine. “Didn’t want to take any chances around you.”

By the time his meaning slams into me, that he’s been carrying around a condom in his wallet all this time because he’s wanted me, because I’ve been torturing him, his mouth is back to kissing mine and I forget all about condoms and wallets and everything else but him.

But the searing heat of his dick on my stomach.

Which doesn’t stay on my stomach for long though.

It moves.

It travels down and then I feel it in my pussy.

Right at my hole.

At my tight, virgin hole.

That a second later doesn’t stay that way because he takes it from me. He rips my virginity from my body with a sharp, stabbing push.

And the pain is so fierce and hot and fiery that for a few seconds after that I see and feel things in flashes.

I feel him break the kiss and shush me, licking my cheeks where my tears are streaming down. I feel his fingers caressing my hair and pushing my thick bangs away from my sweaty forehead. I feel his stomach juddering and hollowing out over mine, his chest vibrating and scraping against my nipples.

But there are two things that I feel the most.

One, the throb of his cock inside of me, stretching me, making my channel pulse in the rhythm of it.

And the second, his voice.

The deep, hypnotic hum of it when I whisper, “It hurts.”

He lifts his face up from my neck where he was licking and leaving little kisses on my skin. His jaw is clenched, his forehead sweaty and tight, such a contrast to his soft words. “I know, baby. But it’ll pass, I promise.”

My belly clenches. “You called me baby.”

His eyes go liquid. “You like that?”

I clutch his biceps. “Yeah. And you think I’m cute.”

He kisses my forehead. “Because you fucking are.”

“Say it again.”

“My cute little Poe.”

“Again.”

“My baby.”

“Again.”

He whispers it in my ear and it makes me smile. “Thank you.”

He whispers it on my neck and it makes my pussy clench and I want to thank him again but I’m too lost in the sensations of it. And when he whispers it over my collarbones and throat and chin and lips, I move.

Which makes him move.

And as soon as he does, the pain recedes.

Magically, the pain goes down to a level where I start to feel things. Incredible things. Things that I’ve been feeling all this time but were overshadowed by the pressure, the sheer stretch of my pussy with his cock.

And then he does it again. And again, his dick sliding in and out in small inches.

All the while looking into my eyes, reading them, studying them like his favorite book.

And God, he’s a fast learner.

He’s a super fucking fast learner because one second, I’m only starting to feel good, I’m only starting to enjoy his slow glides, and the next, I’m craving them. I’m craving his moves. I’m juicing up for his moves. I’m swelling up and ripening for his length to invade me over and over.

Then he hits a spot in my pussy, a spot I didn’t even know existed until he brought it to life, that makes it impossible for me to stay quiet. That makes it impossible for me not to throw my head back, digging it into the pillow. Impossible not to push back.

And when I do, it’s his turn to grunt.

It’s his turn to bury his face in my neck and clutch my face like it’s the most precious thing ever.

Which only makes me push back harder, and soon we establish a rhythm.

Soon, my nails are scratching his back because this rhythm that we have is driving me crazy. This rhythm that we have is making me go feral and I’m digging my heels into his thighs, feeling his bare and clenching muscles, the coarse hot and hairy skin. I’m lifting and arching my pelvis to take him in deeper. I’m sweating and burning and feeling something in my belly.

Something like a tight fist.

A fist I recognize but it has never been this tight. It has never been this overwhelming and scary.

Yeah, it’s scary.

I’ve never felt like this before and so I hold him tighter. I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face in his chest, hoping that he’ll protect me, hoping that he’ll keep me safe from whatever is happening inside my body.

And he does.

God, does he.

He hugs me back.

His giant guardian arms wrap themselves around my tiny body as he plasters us together, both our skins sweaty and sliding against each other. And just the fact that I’m all cocooned in the heat of his muscles and bones and him makes that fist unfurl.