Chapter 31 Daybreak #4
He pushed a little deeper, and the initial resistance faded as her body yielded, opening around him in a slow, tight embrace that stole coherent thought from his skull.
He sank an inch and stopped, his jaw clenching so hard his molars ground together, every nerve ending screaming with the effort of not driving deeper.
Long and trembling, her breath washed across his collarbone.
No pain, only pleasure.
The rightness of a lock finally meeting its key.
“More,” she whispered.
He sank a little deeper, and her walls fluttered around him, adjusting, accepting, drawing him closer with a pulsing warmth that made his vision blur at the edges. She was tight in a way that bordered on unbearable, her inexperienced body gripping him with fierce natural instinct.
The silken pressure of her lit every nerve on fire.
Her lips parted as he withdrew slowly, lifting his hips as he braced his weight on one arm while the fingers of his other hand entwined with hers.
He watched himself emerge from her body, slick and throbbing, then pressed forward again.
Deeper this time, but maintaining his aching control.
He filled her by careful degrees until his pelvis finally met hers and the entirety of his length was sheathed inside.
Her breath caught.
They both stilled.
The room contracted to the sound of their matched breathing, to the pulse that hammered in the place where their bodies joined, to the extraordinary silence of two people occupying the same space for the first time.
“Are you okay?” Discipline had ravaged his voice.
She nodded. “Are you?”
It was, perhaps, the first time anyone had asked him that. The tenderness of her concern gutted him in ways he couldn’t explain. Ways he welcomed.
“I’m…incredible.”
A soft smile curled her lips. “Don’t stop.”
He moved then. Slowly at first, withdrawing halfway before sliding home, letting her body learn and adjust to his rhythm.
Each thrust was deliberate, measured, a conversation spoken in the oldest language.
She tilted her hips to meet him, her legs wrapping his, heels pressing into the small of his back, urging him closer, deeper, until there was no space left between them.
The pace quickened. His strokes lengthened, each one pulling a moan from her chest that climbed in pitch and volume.
Nothing in his life had prepared him for the way she felt. Every nerve in his body ignited as her tight, slick heat enveloped him, gripping his shaft in a pulsing embrace that rewired his understanding of pleasure from something annihilating to something fortifying.
He withdrew slowly and pressed forward again, deeper, and the velvet drag of her walls along his full length sent a shockwave rolling from the base of his spine to the crown of his skull.
She was liquid silk and clenching warmth, her body opening and tightening around him in alternating waves that made his jaw slacken and his vision narrow to the place where they joined.
He could feel her heartbeat inside her, that intimate flutter pulsing against his cock with every thrust, and the knowledge that he was the first man to feel this, that no one had ever occupied this sacred space, hit him with a reverence so fierce it nearly stalled his rhythm.
But his body refused to stop. Instinct took command, ancient and fluent, driving his hips in long, rolling strokes that drew moans from both of them in a tangled chorus.
The friction was exquisite, her arousal coating him in slick, molten warmth that made every withdrawal a glistening torment and every return a homecoming.
He was drowning in her, lost in the consuming heat and the obscene perfection of her body wrapped around his, and for the first time in his existence, drowning felt like breathing.
“Jack, yes…yes…”
His grip on her wrists tightened, and she arched into the restraint, her breasts pressing against his chest, her nipples dragging across his scarred skin with each thrust. New courage awakened, and he loosened his hold of her, trusting her to know where his boundaries hid.
She immediately wrapped her arms around him, holding his shoulders and leaning up to kiss his skin. Her nails trailed down his back, tracing his scars without flinching.
Jack shivered under her touch, welcoming her claim.
“God, that feels…” His words disintegrated as her sex clenched around him, her inner muscles gripping his shaft with a pressure that sent sparks cascading behind his eyes.
“Jack.” She whispered his name like a prayer.
He buried his face in the curve of her neck, breathing her in, his hips driving deeper as the rhythm turned urgent. The headboard knocked against the wall. If the world outside continued to exist, he didn’t know or care.
In his room, in his bed, there was only the two of them. A symphony of skin against skin, breath against breath, the wet, obscene sound of him moving inside her, and the broken music of her pleasure.
The tenderness in her expression shattered him, magnified by the flush on her cheeks and the swollen redness of her lips. Not only did she trust him, but he trusted her as well.
In one fluid motion, he rolled to his back, pulling her with him, keeping himself buried inside her. The shift in gravity was immediate, and she gasped, seating herself fully on his cock. Her eyes widened as she registered the new depth of penetration.
The intensity of the position stole his breath as much as her beauty. She sat astride him with the exquisiteness of a queen, her thighs bracketing his hips as her palms braced on his battered chest.
The sunlight fell across her shoulders, painting her flawless curves in gold like the delicate underbelly of a cloud. The wild tangles of her hair tumbled over her temple, cascading down her back in a waterfall of champagne waves.
He uttered a curse that landed like a prayer. The way he filled her completely, the way her body bore down on his length with her full weight. It was enough to drive his head back in ecstasy.
“Oh.” The single syllable carried a world of discovery as she shifted, realizing she was now in control.
His thumbs traced slow circles on the crest of her hipbones, steadying her without guidance.
“Find your way,” he said softly, looking up at her perched above him, naked and flushed. “My body is yours.”
She rocked tentatively, testing the motion, and the subtle shift of her hips sent his cock sliding against her front wall in a way that made them both gasp. She rocked again, adjusting the angle, slowly discovering all the things her body could feel.
A moan spilled from her lips, throaty and devastatingly female. Her confidence grew, and she rolled her hips again.
Her fingers splayed across his scarred chest, palms planting in muscle. She used the leverage to lift herself before sinking down, taking him to the root.
The groan that escaped him was indecent, a guttural moan torn from behind his sternum, but her answering smile was radiant and wicked and entirely new.
“You liked that?” She bit her lower lip.
“I like everything you’re doing.”
“Me too.”
She found her rhythm. A slow, grinding roll that dragged the full length of his shaft through her gripping heat, her body pressing against his pelvis each time she bore down.
Her breasts swayed with every motion, lush and perfect, her sensitive nipples taut and flushed, still damp from his mouth. Her head tipped back, and her lips parted as pleasure climbed her spine in visible increments, tightening her stomach, curling her toes, drawing her shoulders taut.
He watched in awe. His love and admiration for her doubled with every thrust. Pressure that had nothing to do with his approaching release built behind his ribs.
Every point where her skin touched his sent warmth flooding through him. He felt her everywhere, even in the tissue of his torn flesh where he’d assumed sensation had permanently died.
When she met his gaze with him buried completely inside her, with her hips undulating in a rhythm that was entirely her own, she created an intimacy so acute it disarmed him.
No one had ever looked at him like that.
His hands moved from her hips to her waist, palms sliding up her ribs, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts. She covered his hands with her own, pulling his touch where she needed it most, pressing his palms harder against her skin, as she increased her pace.
The slick, rhythmic sound of their joining filled the room alongside ragged breaths and muffled cries. She rode him with growing urgency, her thighs trembling, her inner walls clenching around his shaft in irregular, fluttering spasms that told him she was close.
He planted his feet flat on the mattress and thrust upward to meet her, driving deeper, hitting the spot that made her scream in ecstasy.
Her rhythm faltered as her body tightened around him in a spiraling grip that stole every remaining thought from his head. “Jack.” Her voice cracked between his name and another moan. “I love you.”
The words landed, solid and irreversible, forged to his heart with heat and conviction and the unmistakable timbre of truth.
He pulled her to him, wrapping her tightly in his arms, her chest flush against his, as their hips moved in frantic, graceless synchrony. His lips traced her lips, her eyes. He kissed every inch of her face as her heartbeat slammed against his, their pulses trading places in a rapid give and take.
“I love you.” He said it into her lips. It was more than a confession. It was a covenant, whispered between souls.
Her inner walls seized around him in a fist of liquid heat, so sudden and so fierce that the air punched from his lungs.
Her spine arched off his chest, her nails biting crescents into his shoulders, and the sound that tore from her throat climbed the high ceilings and filled every corner of the room.
He gripped her hips as her thighs clamped around his. His arms slid up her back, holding her tight to him, as her body convulsed in rhythmic, clenching waves that rippled along his buried length.
His vision dissolved to white as he followed her over the edge, the wild percussion of her heart slamming against his own. His arms locked around her as his hips drove upward in three final, shuddering thrusts that buried him so deep he couldn’t tell where his body ended, and hers began.
Hot, pulsing waves fled his body, wringing sounds from his chest he didn’t recognize, guttural and broken and raw. He buried his face against her neck as his fingers knotted in her hair.
They stayed like that for an eternity, gasping each time the lingering pleasure spiked with another jolting little wave. Slowly, the tremors subsided, and his length softened still inside her.
His arms did not loosen, and her fingers never left his skin as she traced slowly over his raised flesh as if memorizing every hidden part of him.
Their breathing slowed in tandem, ragged edges smoothing into something sustainable, something that could carry them through the next minute and the one after that and all the minutes that followed.
She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, a content smile softening her face.
She traced a slow line down the bridge of his nose with her fingertip, over the bow of his upper lip, along the stubbled ridge of his jaw. He turned his face into her palm and pressed a kiss there, right at the center, where her lifeline carved its deepest groove.
“I love you,” he whispered against her skin.
She settled back on his chest, nestling into him. “I love you too.”
The morning settled around them. Curtains billowed in the rising humidity as a songbird sang its territorial claim.
Jack eased her into the crook of his arm, her cheek against his chest, fingers resting lightly on the scar above his heart.
That was where he felt her most. In the hollowed cavity of his chest that had only ever known injustice and pain.
Somehow, she pushed it all aside and spread something light where darkness had always been.