Chapter 6 Pressure Points #6
“You’re doing so well,” I whisper. “So good, Jane. Just breathe. Let me in.”
“West…” She whimpers, and I feel her relax another fraction. Sink another inch.
“I know, sweetheart,” I murmur, brushing a kiss over her forehead. "There you go. So good. You're taking me so well, Jane."
She nods, taking a shaky breath. Her muscles relax fractionally. I sink deeper, finally sheathing myself fully inside her.
We both groan. The feeling of being surrounded by her, enveloped in her heat… it’s beyond anything I’ve ever felt. Beyond words.
She feels… like coming home. Like finding something I didn’t know I’d lost.
I stay buried deep for a moment, letting her adjust, letting us both feel the incredible connection. Her eyes flutter open. She looks up at me, wonder mixing with the lingering discomfort.
“Okay?” I ask again, brushing my lips against hers.
“Yes,” she whispers. Then a small smile touches her lips. “Now what?”
I laugh, the sound rough with need and affection. “Now,” I say, pulling back slowly, then pushing in again with deliberate slowness, “we move.”
I pull back slowly, almost completely out, then slide home again. A gasp shudders out of her. Her legs wrap around my hips, pulling me deeper. “Again.”
I set a rhythm—slow, deep thrusts, each one measured, controlled. Her body opens for me, welcoming me. Her sounds shift from uncertain gasps to low moans of pleasure. Her hips lift to meet mine, finding the angle, seeking more.
“Oh…” she breathes. “That’s… oh, West… that’s…”
“Good?” I grunt, losing myself in the feel of her, the tight clasp of her body.
“So good,” she gasps. Her legs tighten around me, pulling me deeper. “Faster? Please?”
I oblige, increasing the pace, driving deeper. Her head falls back, exposing the long line of her throat.
"Oh—oh, that's—"
Her moans grow louder, more urgent. She’s meeting me thrust for thrust now, her body moving with instinctive grace. The sight of her, lost in pleasure, trusting me, taking me… it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever witnessed.
She feels too good. Too right. Every thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through me. Her inner walls grip me, rippling around my cock, coaxing me closer and closer to the edge.
The slap of skin on skin fills the room, mingling with her ragged breaths and my own guttural groans.
“Look at me, Jane,” I command, my voice thick. “Look at me.”
Her eyes snap open, meeting mine. The connection is electric. Raw. Unfiltered. I see her pleasure, her trust, her growing need reflected back at me.
“You feel so good,” I tell her, thrusting deep, holding myself there, grinding against her clit. “So tight. Like you were made for me. You have any idea how perfect you feel wrapped around my cock?”
Her answering cry is pure ecstasy. “That’s it, Jane. Take more. You can take it. Your body knows what to do."
I slide a hand between us, finding her clit, rubbing tight circles as I drive into her.
Her back arches off the bed. “Oh West! I’m—I’m gonna—”
“Come,” I growl against her ear. “Come on my cock, sweetheart. Let me feel you.”
Her body tenses. Her back arches. Her eyes lock on mine, wide and desperate. A cry tears from her throat, raw and beautiful, as her climax hits her. Her inner walls clamp down on me, milking my cock with fierce, rhythmic pulses.
The sensation is too much. My own control shatters.
With a roar, I plunge deep one last time and let go, spilling into the condom in hot, pulsing waves, blinding, obliterating everything but the feel of her, the sound of her, the woman beneath me.
I shout her name, a raw sound torn from my chest, as I empty myself inside her.
We collapse together in a tangle of sweaty limbs and gasping breaths. I roll to the side, pulling her with me, holding her close against my chest. Her head rests on my shoulder. Her body is still trembling with aftershocks.
We lie like that for long moments, tangled together, sweat-slicked and utterly spent, the only sounds our labored breathing and the frantic drumming of our hearts.
Slowly, reality seeps back in. The cool air on my overheated skin. The scent of sex and salt and Jane. The feel of her body, soft and pliant beneath mine.
"You okay?" I ask.
"I'm..." She pauses. "I don't know what I am."
My chest tightens. "Did I hurt you?"
"No." She tilts her head up. "The opposite. I just... I didn't know it could be like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you actually wanted me to feel good. Like it mattered more than—" She stops herself.
"It did matter." I brush hair from her face.
I start to pull away, but her arms tighten around me.
“Don’t,” she whispers, her voice hoarse.
“Not yet.”
I settle back against her, carefully shifting my weight off her. I pull out gently, disposing of the condom quickly before gathering her back into my arms.
She curls into me, her head resting on my chest, her ear pressed over my still-thundering heartbeat. Her skin is warm against mine. Her breathing slowly evens out.
I stroke her hair, my fingers tangling in the dark strands. The silence is comfortable. Intimate… until…
“So,” she murmurs, her voice husky and spent. “Kirkland Signature. Not bad.”
I laugh. “Glad it met with your approval.”
“Oh, it exceeded expectations.” She tilts her head back to look up at me, her eyes soft, sated, filled with a warmth that makes my chest tighten. “Definitely worth the bulk buy.”
I brush a kiss against her sweaty temple. “Best investment you ever made.”
She doesn’t laugh this time.
Instead, she shifts closer and slides her hand to my chest—not teasing, not roaming. Just resting there. Feeling my heartbeat slow under her palm.
“You okay?” she asks quietly.
The question catches me off guard. Not are we okay.
You.
I nod once. Honest.
Her thumb moves in a small, absent circle, like she’s memorizing the answer.
“Good,” she murmurs. Then she settles her head against me, trusting me to hold her—trusting me not to disappear.
I don’t feel the urge to get up, get dressed, get distance.
I just stay.
I close my eyes and let that be enough.