Page 105 of Bean

“You have been…but that’s a lot of trust you put in me, sweetheart.”

“You wouldn’t lie to me.”

His expression was one of pure love. “No, I wouldn’t…but I love hearing you say that.”

“Will you do it? I want to feel you.”

I wanted to feel his…his cum inside me. That part was still hard to say aloud, even if I could acknowledge it to myself in my head. I would get there. For now, this would work.

“I’d love to.”

He resumed prepping me and, in no time, declared me ready for him. I was. I was so ready for him in more ways than one.

When he stretched out on top of me and guided himself toward my hole, a shiver of anticipation traveled down my spine. I wanted him so bad. This time, when he pressed against me, I let him in without any issues, maybe because he’d prepped me so well.

With his mouth on mine and our tongues tangling and dancing, he worked his way inside me, my body giving way and making room for him. I welcomed him, savoring the slight burn and the fullness he brought.

His mouth lazily roamed mine as if he wanted to explore every corner, taste every little bit of me, and I was all too happy to let him. His hips moved equally slow, sliding in and out of me in a deliciously dirty way. The sounds alone were turning me on, let alone that exquisite sensation of his cock inside me.

It felt even better than the first time, though why, I wasn’t sure. Maybe I was more relaxed? Or less nervous and thus less focused on all the details? Not that it mattered, but I wanted this to last forever, even though the pressure inside me was building rapidly.

He rocked into me, only sliding out a little before surging back in. He was not only slower than the first time but more tender, gentler. I’d loved the force of his thrusts that first time, but this was even better.

“I love you,” he whispered against my lips, and then I understood.

He was making love to me. This wasn’t sex. This was an expression of the love between us.

I wrapped my arms around him and held him close, our chests pressed against each other as our hearts synced. He sucked on my throat, undoubtedly leaving a hickey—though that was way too banal a word for the way he marked me.

I was his.

And he was mine.

I sucked on his shoulder, creating my own mark, then found his mouth again. All that time, he rocked his pelvis, driving me higher and higher without ever pushing me over that edge.

He was edging me, and I loved every second of this sweet torture. Oh, I wanted to come, make no mistake, but I was content to let Jarek sweep me away. I trusted him.

I loved him.

God, I loved him.

“How handsome you are, my beloved,” I whispered. “Your love is more delightful than wine.”

Finally, a Bible verse that was actually applicable—though my father had rarely spoken about Solomon’s Song of Songs. No wonder since it was pretty explicit if you read between the lines.

Jarek smiled at me. “Beloved… What a beautiful word.”

“My beloved is mine, and I am his,” I said softly, then kissed him again.

And so we made love, losing all sense of time as we kissed and stayed connected until finally, finally, we both came. As wonderful as it felt to finally have that pressure released, the orgasm almost felt like an afterthought to the intimacy we’d shared, of the love I’d felt in his every kiss, his every touch, every slide of his hips.

Feeling his load drip out of me was a whole new experience, though…and it was one I loved far more than I had expected.“Can you tell me why?” Jarek asked as we lay cuddling, me with my head on his shoulder.

“It feels like… Like you marked me in another way. Like I’m yours.”

“You are.”

“And you’re mine…my beloved.”

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