I ripped my hand away. “Oh, God. Did I hurt you? Did I fuck up?”
“No,” he panted, grabbing my hand and moving it back. “It feels good,” he breathed, and then a soft curse left his lips as he helped me slide my fist over his shaft. “So fucking good.”
I lit up under the praise, mirroring what he’d done. I ran my slick palm up to his mushroom tip, applying light pressure as I slicked it all the way down to his base again. Another moan of satisfaction rewarded me, and he flexed his hips into my touch.
“More.”
I squeezed tighter on the next roll down, and he cursed, nodding and flexing into my hand again. He was so thick I could barely get my hand all the way around him, and the thought of taking him inside me both excited and terrified me.
“The tip is really sensitive,” he tried to explain through his panting, his chest heaving with every new roll of my hand over him. “You want to touch it, yes, but not too much, not too aggressively.”
I nodded, taking mental notes as I slicked his head before moving to his shaft.
“Just like every girl is different, every guy is, too. Some want it slow, some fast, some like light pressure, others like harder.”
“What about these?” I asked, dipping my hands down beneath his shaft without warning.
He jumped as I cupped his balls, cursing as his eyes flew open and he rolled, pinning me into the sheets.
“Oh, God. Bad?” I asked, panicked. Hadn’t the books said those were good?
Clay heaved a laugh, shaking his head before he dropped his forehead to mine. “Good,” he breathed. “At least, for me.”
“Then why did you stop me?”
“Because I don’t want to come before the lesson is over.”
I bit my lip, and Clay kissed my shy smile before rolling over to the right of me. He balanced himself on one elbow, the free hand trailing down and drawing a line from one of my hips to the other.
I shivered under the touch, eyes floating up to meet his.
He swallowed, dipping just the tip of his fingers beneath the band of my sweats. “Can I touch you, Giana?” he whispered.
I’d never known such simple words could unravel me.
I nodded, and just like he had, I lifted my hips, using the arm not trapped beneath him to help him push my sweats down. I wasn’t wearing anything underneath them, and Clay’s nose flared at the sight of me bare before him.
“I didn’t… I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to like… shave or something. Of course, I didn’t think we’d be… I usually just have this little strip,” I explained, cheeks flooding with heat the longer Clay stared between my legs. I bent my knees together. “I can jump in the shower real quick and—”
“Stop,” he told me, catching my knees before they could meet in the middle. He lightly pressed against the inside of my left one until I opened again, and his hand slowly trailed down my inner thigh toward the apex.
He swallowed, pulling his gaze up to meet mine.
“You’re perfect,” he breathed.
I wasn’t allowed the opportunity to refute that claim, not before his attention was back between my legs, and his hand slid farther up.
He cupped me.
Gentle at first, and then firmer, the whole heat of his palm covering me as I gasped for air.
“God, you are wet,” he husked, gliding his fingers between my lips as I rolled my hips involuntarily. “This is so fucking hot, Kitten.”
All I could do was hold onto him, one hand fisting in the back of his shirt while the other twisted in the sheets.
“Has anyone done this to you?” he asked, the heel of his palm rubbing against me lightly as he slipped his middle finger a little deeper between my folds.
“Just me,” I breathed.
Clay paused, his eyes finding mine. “Are you sure—”
“Do it,” I begged, rolling my hips again. “Please, Clay.” I covered his hand with mine just like he’d done with me before, pressing his finger deeper until the tip of it touched my entrance.
We both hissed a breath then, and I pulled my hand back, searching his eyes as he hovered over that spot.
His green irises flared, pupils dilating a bit as they flicked between mine. “Please tell me if it hurts.”
I nodded, and Clay took a long, deep breath, his eyes staying locked on mine.
And he pushed.
The tip of him slipped inside me, making my lips part and my breath catch. He withdrew it again, only to slide it in deeper, up to his first knuckle this time.
Slowly, again and again, he withdrew and pushed until I stretched bit by bit for him and let him inside. When he finally pressed all the way in, pushing that thick middle finger inside me and curling into a spot that made me see stars, I cried out his name.
It did hurt. But then again, it didn’t. It was like picking at a scab, painful but satisfying, and I only wanted more.
My hands found his hair, guiding his mouth down to mine. I needed to kiss him. I needed to feel him encompassing every inch of me.
He obliged.
That torturous tongue of his slipped inside my mouth, a long swipe of it timed just right with his finger gliding inside me and curling again. This time, he left it there, deep inside me, and wiggled it.
“Oh, God,” I breathed into his mouth. “I… what is…”
My next gasp for air stole the words, and Clay held me tighter to him as he withdrew and slipped inside me again. This time it felt like… more. Full. I was full, and stretched, that bit of pain battling with the pleasure until pleasure won out and consumed my entire being.
I rocked against his touch, even more so when the heel of his hand pressed against my clit and rubbed it in time with his fingers working inside me. That heat that had been building seared white hot and dangerous, like a literal fire was building from the depths of my core.
“Clay,” I warned, scared of it, of how it built and built and flooded me and… something… something was happening.
“Let go,” he said, capturing his mouth with mine. His fingers worked inside me, pushing and curling, his palm slicking against my sensitive peak.
I shook my head, terrified, but that fear was snuffed out in the next moment by rolling waves of delectation. I whimpered into his mouth, and those little cries turned into moans that grew louder and louder as I shook and writhed and clung to him. It was as if every sense I had was zeroed in on where he touched me, and they all rejoiced at once. I felt and tasted and smelled everything and nothing all at once. A black hole of pleasure — that’s what it was.
It was violent and all-consuming for what felt like the shortest minute of my life, and then it slowly faded, even as I tried to grapple and hold onto it.
“No,” I whimpered as the last of it faded, and Clay laughed against my mouth, kissing me as his fingers stilled within me.
“Don’t worry, Kitten,” he whispered. “There are plenty more orgasms where that came from.”
I gasped. “Is that what that was?”
“Wait,” Clay said, pulling back so he could see my eyes. “Was that the first time?”
I flushed. “I mean… I’ve… you know I’ve done that a few times to myself but… never… never that.”
Clay’s brows bent together, and he shook his head. “Jesus, Giana… I didn’t know. I…” He swallowed. “Thank you. For trusting me.”