Chapter Fifteen #3
But knowing that this piece of me will be given to him, this singular moment that can never be relived—it makes me want to cry. The thought of it is making me pathetic and clingy.
And this singular moment we are on the precipice of, once it happens, I kind of want it to be without anything separating us. I want to feel every inch of him, the heat of his skin, and most importantly, I want to feel his release.
So, no. I do not need a moment to think this through. I’ve already decided how I feel and how this will go—I will not regret it. Even drunk, I know this.
My eyes find his again, and Everett is watching me with wide, nervous eyes.
I’m done being bratty now; I’m done being vicious. I think I’d like to be his puppy again.
“Everett.” I sit up, holding a hand out for him.
He approaches the end of the bed, taking my palm in his as he peers down at me. “Yeah?”
“Please take it from me. It has to be you.”
His eyes widen even further, a breath stuttering out from somewhere deep in his chest. Relief.
And as he stands there, shocked, I add, “I won’t accept anything less.”
“Okay,” he concedes. “Okay, Sky. Lie down.”
Everett nudges me backward until I’m lying in the center of the bed again, crawling over me. As he blinks at me, I notice that his eyes are wet and glazed over.
Reaching up, I cup his cheek. “Evie?”
He shakes his head, as if to tell me that nothing is wrong. Then his hand is next to my mouth again, cupped. “Spit for me.”
So I do, and he adds his own to the mix just as he did so many nights ago when he jacked us off with one hand.
He brings our saliva to his length, rubbing it up and down his shaft. He’s panting, hips jerking slightly before he leans down low and pushes one of my legs up by the back of my thigh, only to spit again.
I feel it land on my balls and slide down, straight over my hole. Shivering, I fight against the cold air mixing with the wet feeling and how it’s covering my skin in goosebumps.
My hole clenches around nothing—searching for him already.
“So pretty,” Everett mutters, mostly to himself once again, but I blush anyway.
Before I can reply, or ask him to say it again, I feel his swollen head press firmly against my entrance. My eyes snap up to meet his, where he’s watching me.
There seems to be this long moment between us, one in which we’re communicating through our eyes alone. I’m telling him that yes, I am scared. And no, I don’t want him to stop.
And he’s telling me that he’ll never hurt me; that he thinks I’m so fucking beautiful.
But then his eyes grow weary, and he says, “Sky… This really isn’t going to feel good with just our spit. Fingers are one thing, but my dick… That’s a whole different story.”
I sigh. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”
“But I don’t want to hurt you.” Everett sounds so defeated.
He won’t tell me no; he could never deny me, but he is terrified to give me what I want. But I don’t have any damn lube, and I need him.
I peer around the room, using his earlier trick and trying my best to manifest it. Have I ever accidentally bought lube before? I mean, it’s possible, right?
No. It is not. I’m a fucking virgin.
Right as I’m giving up, my eyes land on the bottle of baby lotion I keep on my dresser. Being barefoot in the sand so frequently dries out my feet, so I use it after showers.
Turning my attention back to Everett, I ask, “Could we use baby lotion?”
He huffs out a laugh. “What? You have baby lotion?”
I point to the right of us, over his shoulder, and he takes a look, getting up from the bed to grab it.
He reads the back for a moment before saying, “Actually, I think we could. It’s safe for babies, so I’m sure it’s safe to go inside of you.”
A moment later, he’s lathering his dick generously.
“It smells good,” I comment, to which Everett laughs again.
“Now you’ll smell even better as I fuck you senseless.”
It comes out as a whine as I say, “Let’s get a move on then!”
He rubs some of the lotion over me as well, and then he’s pressed firmly against me once more, my calves resting on his shoulders. I can feel him holding himself level with my hole, the other hand pulling my right asscheek to the side.
Everett takes one deep inhale and begins to sink into me.
And oh fuck, does it hurt. It hurts bad. Three fingers are nothing compared to him, and I can’t speak; I can’t even breathe around the pain until his head pops through that ring of muscle.
As he does, Everett lets out a low groan that accompanies my quiet cry so nicely.
“You’re so tight,” he says, voice strained as his eyes clench shut.
He stays perfectly still; I think he’s trying not to come.
Suddenly I am all too aware that Everett Young is fucking me. That his cock is penetrating me and I’m desperate for it. How did things end up here? How long has he wanted this?
Fuck, this hurts!
“Evie!” It’s a busted cry as it leaves me, and I’m realizing in this moment that I am crying. In real life. “Evie, please.”
Everett’s eyes shoot open, his hands immediately dropping my legs so that he can lean forward to get a better look at me. Only, this is a major miscalculation, because as he does, he sinks an inch further into me.
“Fuck,” he groans, and I’m crying even harder.
It’s almost an ugly cry, a sob. But it’s so much, so much emotion—and it hurts so bad.
“Look at me, Sky,” Everett demands. “What’s happening?”
I hadn’t realized that my eyelids had fallen shut. As I look at him, I see that Everett’s eyes are watery too.
“I…I…” I try and fail to speak.
“I’ll pull out. You’re not ready; this is too much. I should have prepped you better.” He tries to lean back up, but I’m grabbing him by the back of his neck, pulling him back down.
He stumbles, his hand slipping out from under him for a moment, and his dick glides in further.
“Oh, god,” I whimper, holding on as tightly as I can.
“Skylar, please. Let me pull out.”
“No!” I gasp out. He’s staring at me—waiting for an explanation, for direction. “I’m just overwhelmed. I… Yes, it hurts. It really hurts. But that’ll fade; I know it will. But I’m just now realizing that I’m here with you and we’re doing this and—”
“And you’re regretting it,” Everett says with certainty, as if he read my mind and knows that this is a fact.
“And I’m so full of this affection for you that I don’t know where to put it,” I finish.
His mouth falls open, and he says nothing. He watches me cry softly as I adjust to him being halfway inside of me.
Then, with no warning other than the reigniting of the flames in his eyes, he begins to push forward at a steady rate. I’m clenching the back of his neck in a painful hold, desperate to feel grounded.
As Everett bottoms out, his hips tapping against my ass, he releases a gentle sigh.
“Skylar, baby,” he sighs, leaning up to his full height and glancing down at me with barely restrained desire. “Let me know as soon as you’ve adjusted to me. Once you do, I’m going to pound into you so hard you won’t be able to think about anything but me.”
My heart skips a beat. I take in his towering form; I feel him pulse from where he’s completely sheathed inside of me. And oh, wow, he’s completely sheathed inside of me. Everett is… fucking me.
I try to focus on the feeling of him there, but I’m unable to tell if I’ve truly adjusted. Sure, the burning has started to fade into a dull throb, but does that mean I’ve adjusted?
Experimentally, I roll my hips down, attempting to test the friction, and Everett chokes on his own spit.
“Sky,” he groans.
“Sorry,” I pant out. “I had to test if I was ready.”
The test worked—the friction felt good.
“And are you?” Everett asks, and as our eyes connect once again, I give him a soft nod.
His big hands grip my hips as he begins to pull out of me until all that is left inside is his swollen head.
Then, he slams back in with unnecessary force.
The only thing keeping me from being shoved up the length of the bed with each snap of his hips is his hands on me, keeping me locked into place.
He’s fucking into me hard and fast, and on every thrust he angles upward, already eerily familiar with the placement of my prostate.
“Everett, oh, that feels so good.” I’m crying again, but this time from pure pleasure.