Page 94 of Isla

"Good girl," he breathes, pressing into me, steady and slow. I can feel every inch, relishing the burning stretch as he bottoms out, filling me completely. I would stay like this with him forever. His forehead presses to mine, our pants mingling, ecstasy sparking in the air, coating our skin. He slips a hand between us, putting pressure against my clit with a fingertip, rolling it as he slowly pumps back and forth. Almost too much but never quite enough. He doesn't stop until I'mwrithing beneath him, desperate to break from his grip, to take, take, take. His muscles tense beneath my hands, and then he's ripping away from me, and I'm empty, and he's standing three feet away, chest heaving.

"That was too close."

"Not fucking close enough," I pout, my cunt squeezing around a phantom cock, desperate to come.

"If you're patient, I'll give you the best orgasm of your life, Freckles."

"That better be a promise." I fold my arms over my chest, staring daggers at him.

"It's more than a promise." He sees my teeth chatter before I can clench my jaw and shakes his head slightly like he's disappointed in himself for not catching on sooner. He twines his fingers with mine, pulling me to the stairs, and then we're running into the locker room, back to the steaming hot shower. It's impossibly romantic being here with him like this. Desire thick between us despite our earlier romp in the woods, despite his cum still dripping from between my thighs. I back him against the tile wall, pressing up on my toes to fit my mouth against his, our goosebumps slowly melting away. He kisses the top of my head and walks me into the shower spray, pumping body wash into his hands, lathering it between his palms before scrubbing the chlorine from my skin.

"What would you like to do?" he asks, squatting down to run his hands over my legs. "Go back to the carnival? Go out to dinner?"

"Go home?" I ask hopefully.

"Or go home," he concedes, chuckling.

"We can stop by the pub for dinner if you're hungry," I say, hoping to God it will be takeout—whatever will get us home the quickest.

"Sounds perfect." We switch places, and I soap him up, making sure to get every nook and cranny so I don't taste chlorine when I’m licking him from head to toe later. I have so many plans for him. There are so many things I need to know if he likes. Heat pools between my legs just thinking about it.

"Before we go home, we have to make a quick stop," Dylan says,his breath hitching as I run a soapy hand back and forth over his cock.

"A quick stop where?" I ask, reveling in the way his throat bobs, the way he licks his lips and the way his eyes roll back as he closes them.

"Fuck, Freckles," he groans, thrusting into my grip before pulling out of my reach.

"Theo told me we need to find a sex shop and buy you a butt plug."

Fuck.

We'resoggy and damp from pulling on our clothes without drying ourselves off, forcing us to keep the windows down as Dylan helps me navigate to a cute gingerbread-looking house on the edge of town. I've never been anywhere like this before. I've ordered things online, of course, but to see walls and racks and displays of all manner of sex toys? It's a little intimidating.

"Never been to one before, have you?" Dylan asks, reading my face like an open book.

I can only shake my head as I take everything in.

"It's overwhelming the first time. Well, the first few times. But eventually, it won't be a big deal."

"How many times have you been in a sex shop?" I ask, wondering exactly how much I don't know about him.

"I used to work at one."

"You what? I thought you were a baker."

"I was. But I also needed a part-time job, and they were the only place hiring. It was only for one summer. An incredibly informative summer."

"I'm sure it was," I say, sarcasm dripping from my words. What is this feeling? Jealousy? Am I jealous that Dylan had a life before me–that he learned how to use toys with someone before me?

Yes. Yes, I am.

I tuck that little fact away to think about later. I don't remember a time I've ever been jealous of past sexual partners before. I don't know if I ever cared enough to be jealous, if I'm being perfectly honest.

"Okay, Mr. Expert, lead the way." I follow him into the store, the intimidation slowly turning into something that heats my blood and sets my heart pounding. We stop along the back wall, which is entirely filled with anything you could possibly want for butt stuff. "What's the best thing to start with?" I ask, wondering how some of these things can even fit in a human body.

"Something like this," Dylan says, pointing to a set of three magenta butt plugs, the first one barely wider than my thumb, the biggest one about three times bigger, both with a flared base.

"But that's not even as big as you."

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