Chapter 43 #2
And god, he’s bigger than he looks.
At least, that’s the first thought I have as his cock breaches my entrance. I let out a moan that’s part pain, part pleasure, and I hear him grunt above me as he stops moving.
“You’re . . . god, you’re so tight,” he says, his voice strained. “Are you okay?”
I’m trembling, but I manage to nod. “Yeah. Just give me a minute?”
“Of course. Does it hurt?”
I open my eyes to look up at him, shaking my head.
“A little,” I say, “but it’s also”—I groan and close my eyes again—“it’s also fucking incredible.
” I reach out and cover his hand on my thigh and then force myself to take several slow, deep breaths.
When the burn stops, I squeeze his hand. “Okay, I’m ready again. Go ahead.”
Alex lifts my hand to his lips and presses a kiss on my knuckles. Then he pushes in a little more and a little more, slowly filling me. Raw need and pleasure mix with a brief sting of pain as he stretches me to accommodate his size.
I want it. I want more of it.
I press my head back into the bed with a rough moan as he sinks in the last few inches.
“Oh fuck, Nico,” he gasps, his hands moving to grip my thighs. “Tell me when I can . . . move.” He’s trembling now, probably struggling to hold himself still.
“Yeah . . . just a—just a minute,” I manage, and he nods.
“You feel incredible,” he murmurs, and he slowly leans forward, resting his elbows down on either side of me. He’s still shaking, but he buries his head in the crook of my neck and grazes my skin with his lips. “So perfect.”
“God, Alex.”
“Beautiful and perfect.” He breathes sharply, still kissing my neck. “And tight and hot.”
He shifts just a little, and I moan and then let out some whimper-whine-groan that would maybe be embarrassing if it didn’t make him curse and gasp my name again.
“Fuck, Nico, please tell me you’re ready,” he begs.
His lips find mine, and he swallows any response I might have had.
I can feel him clinging to me, and something about that—the fact that he seems about to come undone without even starting to move inside of me—sends another jolt of pleasure and need through me.
My hands slip around his back, and I caress up to his shoulders and back down as he continues kissing me. When he pulls back, he’s panting, and he groans and drops his head to my shoulder.
“Please, Nico.”
I kiss his temple and whisper, “Yeah. I’m ready.”
His body shudders, maybe with relief, and his mouth covers mine as he slowly pulls his cock out and then buries himself inside me again.
He does it over and over, gentle and careful with each thrust, but more confident, too.
When he breaks the kiss, he’s breathing hard, like I am, and he props himself up on his elbows but then leans back in, his breath warm against my ear.
“You’re so perfect, my Nico,” he whispers sweetly. “Perfect and beautiful and sexy. I love you so much. Let go. Come for me.” He brushes my hair back out of my face and kisses my forehead, letting his lips linger there.
And I think it’s that touch that pushes me right up to the edge, bolts of pleasure and pressure coiling inside me.
I mumble another string of curses and beg him to give me more.
He presses his lips to my forehead again, then reaches between us, his fist closing around my sensitive cock, as he thrusts into me again and again.
And then I come hard, crying out and clinging to him.
His arms wrap around me, and he holds me through every intense pulse of relief and release and bliss. Just as I’m coming back down, my heart still racing and my body trembling, he pumps into me one last time, burying his head against my chest as he comes with a muffled grunt.
He groans and hugs me tighter and then pulls back just enough to kiss my cheek. “God, that was amazing. I love you. Are you okay?”
How he’s breathing and saying words right now, I’m not sure because I definitely can’t do either of those things.
I nod, though, and he sighs with relief.
Both of his hands cup my cheeks, and then his lips cover mine with an earnestness and tenderness that sends more warmth to my chest. He kisses my lips and my cheeks again, then he places a tiny kiss on the tip of my nose before he slips his arms around me and holds me to him.
I finally manage a laugh, and I hug him back, burying my head in the crook of his shoulder. It’s perfect, to be here with him, to have this together. Tears slip down my cheeks, but I ignore them and hold him tighter.
He must notice my tears when he presses another kiss to my cheek, because he asks, “You’re sure you’re okay?”
I let him go and collapse back onto the bed, exhausted. I close my eyes. “Very okay.”
He pulls out of me slowly, leaving me feeling strangely empty. But as soon as he falls onto the bed next to me and gathers me up in his arms and starts kissing every bit of me again, the feeling is gone.
All I feel is him, his touch gentle, caring, loving. I feel safe and cherished and so, so loved. And at least in that moment, any and all uncertainties and doubts I had don’t seem important anymore. It’s just him and me, here, together.
After a few more minutes of his soft, affirming kisses, he stills, resting his forehead against mine. His fingers caress my cheek.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”
“Couldn’t even if I wanted to,” I admit.
He laughs lightly and kisses my cheek. Then the bed shifts, and he disappears, returning a moment later to touch his lips to my shoulder and then my neck and then my lips.
He doesn’t speak. Instead, he cleans me up with a warm washcloth he brought from the bathroom.
It’s oddly intimate, even given what we just did.
And when he’s finished and put the washcloth back in the bathroom, he pulls down the covers and coaxes me underneath them, and then he’s holding me again, flush against his chest.
He nuzzles my hair and breathes in deeply, and I can feel him smiling into me. I love that.
I let my hand settle low on his stomach, and I slide my foot down his leg until I reach his ankle. He hums contentedly and tightens his arms around me.
“Comfortable?” he asks quietly.
“Mmm, definitely.” I tilt my head back just enough to see his face. His cheeks are still flushed, his hair mussed and his eyes slightly unfocused. Like he just had the best orgasm of his life. He looks fucking incredible. “I love you,” I whisper.
His eyes brighten, and then he grins and says, “You mean that?”
My cheeks heat up, and I nod. “Yeah.” I stretch up to kiss him softly. “With all of my heart.”