Page 75 of Tell Me Again

“—slow? Yeah. Of course. And tell me if—”

“Yeah.”

He’s shifted closer, one hand on his erection to guide him and the other on my thigh. I can feel the head of his dick pressing against my hole, and there’s a funny flutter in my chest. I take a deep breath and try to relax, because I’m totally not fucking relaxed—I’m on edge with need and want and whatever this intense pulse is that’s giving me the urge to push myself down so he’s inside me now.

His hand caresses up and down my thigh gently, and then he’s entering me, pushing into me carefully, slowly. I want to watch, but it’s too overwhelming. I screw my eyes shut and tilt my head back with a loud groan. He stops, and his hand tightens on my thigh.

His voice is thick and rough as he asks, “Is this okay?”

“Yessssss. It’s—yes.”

His hand relaxes, and he pushes in more, groaning as he slowly stretches me out. It’s tight and hot. The tightness is only a little uncomfortable and only for a very short moment. And then all I feel is him and his hard shaft as he inches into me deeper and deeper. He’s going slowly, but I can tell when he’s fully inside me because he stops and moans.

Fuck, I still love that sound.

“God, you’re tight,” he rasps. “I’ve never—god, it’s so good. It’s so hot. Is it—is it good for you?”

I can’t speak, but I nod, and I’m lost. Gone in some haze of all these fucking incredible things I’ve never felt before. I feel him pull out—not quite all the way—and then push back in. Slowly. And again and again. And there’s this tightness and pressure and some fucking amazing something building low in my belly.

It’s so profoundly different, and it builds gradually. I feel hot and tingly as I moan and reach for him, needing to touch him. He shifts over me, still thrusting at an impossibly slow and perfect pace that’s exactly what I want and need. My hands frame his face, and I pull him to me for a kiss. He groans, and I cry out something, and we’re both panting, breathing hard, shaking.

“Coop . . .”

“God—oh god.” It’s more now. Deeper. Fuller. Fuck. Fuck, it’s building, and I think I’m almost gone.

“I’m . . .”

“Y-yeah. Me—me, too.”

His lips cover mine again, although he’s moaning into the kiss, and I’m not sure what to do with my hands. I need him deeper and harder now. I think.

“Ahhhhhh, fuck, I—”

His head falls onto my shoulder as his hands grip my thighs, and he speeds up. Just exactly as I want. Just enough.

And then I’m crashing. Hard waves rippling through me. It’s more intense than anything I’ve ever felt, and there’s this shaking and tingling. And I fucking might be floating, I’m really not sure.

It’s probably several minutes later when I can finally feel myself again—the bed solid underneath me. I hear an indistinct sound, and there’s a warm breath and lips on my cheek. And I realize I’m on my side, and he’s no longer inside me, but he’s holding me, his hand rubbing my back.

“I—I can’t...” My voice is trembling, and there’s a tingling feeling still in my fingers. My whole body’s buzzing or on fire maybe.

“God, I know. I know,” he agrees. He kisses my cheek again, and it’s somehow soothing to me.

“That . . . just . . .”

“Yeah,” he agrees, and he holds me to him a little tighter, his arms wrapped around me.

It’s warm and comfortable. And I couldn’t move right now, even if I wanted to.

But I don’t. I don’t want to. I want to stay here, forever. Just him and me and whatever this thing is that’s so incredible and real and perfect.

It’s a fucking really, really good place to be.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Josh

“Stay.”

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