He flexes his hips and his hard length slides further inside me. I wince as pain blooms, becoming more of a burning sensation. He leans down and takes my lips with his own before carefully thrusting against me. When it feels like he can’t slide any deeper, he angles himself differently and moves further inside my body.
A whimper escapes and he swallows it down. Our tongues tangle as he holds himself perfectly still, balancing on his elbows so the full weight of his body doesn’t pin me to the mattress. It takes a few moments for the sharp bite of pain to recede.
I blow out a steady breath, and he gently withdraws his cock from my abraded body.
That can’t be all there is, right?
There has to be more.
Just when I wonder if he’ll pull out all the way, he slides back inside, burying himself to the hilt.
I gasp at the flash of pain as my insides stretch around his girth. It’s not entirely unpleasant.
“Are you okay?” He holds himself above me. “I don’t want to hurt you, Mia.”
“I’m okay. Don’t stop.” All the previous pleasure swirling madly around inside me is long gone. My insides sting with the intrusion. His cock buried inside my body feels like a foreign entity.
He pulls out again before gliding back inside.
Once.
Twice.
By the third time, the sting has abated and a tiny ripple of desire sparks to life in my core.
His thrusts are gentle and rhythmic. Pleasure continues to flourish deep inside me until I’m gyrating my hips, trying to match his movements.
He closes his eyes as his breathing picks up speed, becoming more labored. His tempo becomes faster as I’m pushed to the edge again. When his body stiffens, he throws his head back and groans out his release. As his thrusts become deeper, it sets off my own reaction and a firework of sensation explodes in my core. A flood of warmth fills me as he chants my name over and over before collapsing on top of me in a heap.
I wrap my arms around Beck and pull him closer. His harsh breathing fills my ears as I stare at the ceiling with dazed amazement.
With a huff, he lifts himself up and balances on his elbows. He stares at me with eyelids at half-mast. Pleasure swirls through his eyes. “Are you okay?”
My lips lift into a tentative smile. “I’m fine.”
“Did I hurt you?”
I shrug. “It wasn’t too bad.”
His lips curve as he presses them to mine. “I tried to be gentle.”
I give in to the nagging urge to tunnel my fingers through his mussed hair. I’ve never felt closer to another human being, and it feels so good.
No. Better than good.
Amazing.
There’s a connection between us, one that bonds us in the most intimate way possible. It’s something I’ve never shared with anyone else, and that makes it infinitely special. I want to soak it up and marvel at the unexpectedness of it all.
Carefully Beck pulls out of my body and onto his back. The loss of his warmth and closeness is staggering. It brings unwanted questions hurtling to the surface.
Was this nothing more than a hookup?
Or did it mean something?
I open my mouth to ask when a deep voice cuts through the silence of the bedroom.
“Goddamn it, Beckham Archibald Hollingsworth!”
Every single thought swirling through my head disappears as my eyes widen. I screech at the top of my lungs and scramble under the comforter, yanking it to my chin.
What the hell?
Instead of freaking out, Beck doesn’t move a muscle. More surprising than that, he looks unfazed. As if his father hasn’t walked in on us. He throws a well-muscled arm over his eyes and huffs out an exasperated breath.
With his body on full display, my gaze drops to his condom covered cock. Now that his erection has deflated, it’s nowhere near the size it was earlier. If I wasn’t dying of mortification, I’d be tempted to investigate the situation.
“Goddamn it, Beckham Archibald Hollingsworth!”
Annoyance bleeds from every syllable.
I yelp again and glance around the room in confusion. Beck’s father is nowhere to be seen, but there’s no mistaking that booming voice. I’ve heard those very words fly out of his mouth dozens of times. That’s Archie’s usual reaction when Beck has done something boneheaded and gotten himself into trouble. Which he does often.
“What is that?” I croak.
“My phone,” Beck grumbles before rolling over and swiping the thin silver rectangle from the nightstand. He taps the screen. “Hey, Dad.”
Archibald’s voice bursts over the line, but I can’t quite make out the conversation.
Beck runs a hand through his hair. Instead of taming the locks, the movement only musses it more. I’m so tempted to reach out and straighten it into submission.
“Yeah, just a couple of people.” A smirk curves his lips as he winks at me. “Perfectly chill.”