“I’ve only ever—ever had men with soft hands,” I said on a gasp.
“You only ever had boys,” he scoffed, “you’ve never had a real man’s hand on you. How do you like it?” he said, voice taunting as he drew his thumb languidly down the length of my slit. I bucked up off the bed, gritting my teeth against the wash of bliss that rushed over me.
“I like it,” my voice was high and tight.
“Do you think you want more of it?” he said, dragging his thumb back and forth, opening me with his fingertips. As I felt myself spread for him, his calloused fingers dipping in my sex, making me clench, I grunted, whimpered, and worked my legs helplessly. Finally I lifted my hands and grabbed his biceps, squeezed them, glad to have something hard to hold on to as he worked me mercilessly, never slowing down to give me quarter, to give men an instant to breathe.
“You like how I touch you. Say it,” he said.
“No one—ever—touched me—this way. You have the best hands. I want you all the time. You’re not the only one who couldn’t stop after we met. I went so hard with my vibrators, and I couldn’t get—couldn’t get close to this. Flesh and blood,” I smiled weakly.
He dipped his head and worried my nipple with his lips and tongue, giving me appreciative licks and sucking me in to his hot, liquid mouth. His teeth scraped my pebbled nipple. He tucked his fingers inside me again, filling me with them, made me clench.
“No,” I said, scrambling up the bed away from him.
“Did I hurt you?” worry clouded his handsome face. I shook my head, a little frantic, drew my knees to my chest.
The bed was so narrow that there was no getting away from him. I turned my face away instead. But he engulfed me, arms, hands, his mouth on my cheekbone, my forehead, kissing me, kissing me like I was his.
“Let me touch you. Let me make it good,” he said, parting my lips, kissing me so deeply, so sweet and long that I shook again in his arms.
“Why don’t you want me touching you?”
“I do want it. I want it too much. I’m just—afraid that after I have you, it’ll hurt twice as much to be alone.” I confessed.
Tyler didn’t hesitate, didn’t reassure me with empty words. He put his hands on me and drew me down onto the mattress, moving on top of me.
“I don’t have a condom. I don’t keep them,” he said.
“Just us. Just you and me, nothing in between,” I moaned. “I’m so empty without you, Tyler. Please,” I said. My words ignited him. I could see it, could feel it in his touch, rougher and more frantic.
“I won’t let you be empty,” he said, his mouth a curious frown as if trying to hold back. Then I felt him there, the flare of the hot, velvety head of his cock, the wetness.
I touched his face, brushed back the hair that had fallen across his brow. The rush of affection I felt was strong and full. I rose against him, nudging my lips to his. His tenderness had shocked me—a big Marine with rough hands, a man who hauled wood and massive sacks of dirt and mulch. A man whose big, brutal body could punish and crush, but cherished instead. With the clever stroke of his fingers between my thighs, my legs opened more for him.
Tension rolled through me, my body stiffening with apprehension. It had been so long since I’d been with a man this way. Logically, it could hurt. I didn’t want to kill the mood by mentioning it, by asking him to go slow and be gentle. I wanted to be with him, not ruin it. It was typical of me—I couldn’t just relax and enjoy myself. Not even when I’d made the impulsive decision to call in sick so I could go to bed with a former patient. I tried not to frown, made an effort to smile up at him.
I saw the tight control in his face, his arms poled on either side of my head. I saw him dip his face to mine and kiss my forehead.
“Are you ready?” he asked tightly. I nodded, my hand still on his face.
He kissed my lips, urgent and passionate, our tongues mating, making me forget my worry as desire pooled hot and dark in me. I was flat on my back looking up at Tyler Leeds. It was like a thunderclap, just realizing how much I wanted to be here and nowhere else.
“It’s you I want,” he said, “know that.” I nodded again, words having left me.
The pressure of his entry, the long, slow slide of his cock invaded me. I felt my body stretch and adjust to him, my heart pounding, first with nervousness, then with something like joy. He was inside me, fully seated in my body. I could hold all of him, was just the right fit for him. All those times I’d wished I were smaller, more delicate were swept away. Because someone like that couldn’t match Tyler in this, in passion and pleasure. It was a kind of madness then, my palms flat on his back, feeling the flex of muscle there as he worked away at me with deep, powerful thrusts, measured in such a way to make me grind with bliss against him. He felt so good inside of me I could’ve wept. This was what I’d been missing, what I’d never had before. The heaviness and heat within me, touching all the right places inside and making me writhe and moan.
Suddenly I felt the head of his cock brush against the upper wall of my womb. Bright colors flashed and a gurgling noise broke from me. He grinned, worked it again and again, stroking the same exact spot until I was crazed, my nails clawing at his back, trying to climb him, demanding more and trying to scrabble away at the same time. My head thrashed on the pillow, eyes shut. He grabbed my face, held my chin, “Look at me,” he said hoarsely. I tried to hold his gaze, my arousal ratcheting up to one thousand when I met his eyes like every dark promise I’d ever been too shy to beg for. He would give me everything and more. Things I never knew I wanted. In complete control, he kept riding along the edge with me, bumping the spot that made me see stars, reaching down to finger my clit, so swollen and tight. Just the barest brush of his fingers threatened to be too much for me there.
“You feel incredible inside me,” I managed in a harsh whisper. He held my hip, hitched my leg up higher on his back and rode deeper. I was screaming by then, rolling my head to the side again, almost lost.
‘No,” he said, “look at me,” his voice was ferocious.
I obeyed. I gave him what he wanted as I came, slick and lewd, squeezing and releasing on his hard cock. As soon as the orgasm started to ease off so I could catch my breath, he sped up his thrusts again. I was so sensitive, so tender down there that I tried to wriggle away, but he was having none of it. I could hear the slap of his thighs against me as he thrust, and I whimpered with the sudden second wave of release, the sharp contractions of my body as the spike of pleasure shot past anything I’d ever known. It was another level of orgasm, and I clung to him. Tremors rippled through me, my legs twitching. I had lost control of my body, the clenching of my inner muscles around him hard and relentless. He gave a shout. I felt the hot lashing of his orgasm inside of me and bucked off the bed with the feeling of completion his hot seed leaking out of me gave me.
Still within me, Tyler, rolled onto his side. He stroked my face, held me, kissed my hair and forehead. His breath sawed in and out like he’d done a marathon. Our breath mingled in a kiss that had no beginning or end, just a constant ebb and flow of our lips and tongues, gentle and sensuous and deeply satisfying. The closeness of those moments, our bodies still joined and our bare flesh pressed together as we kissed back and forth, light and affectionate—was so profound that I fought tears back.