Page 27 of It's Only Ever Been You

Nothing feels rushed or frantic. It’s deliberate, every movement filled with promises. He hovers over me, his gaze searching mine as if he’s waiting for me to change my mind. But I don’t. I meet his eyes, my hands trembling as they rest on his shoulders, and nod.

“Emma,” he whispers, his voice low and unsteady, “I need you to tell me if you want to stop. If this is too much, you just say the word, and we’ll stop.”

I shake my head, my voice soft but firm. “I don’t want to stop, Ethan. I want this… I want you.”

His forehead presses against mine for a moment, a shaky breath escaping his lips. His hand glides down my side, gentle, as if he’s afraid I might break. He shifts, for a moment and grabs something from the night stand. A condom, god I hadn’t even thought of that. Once he has it rolled on he settles his body between my legs, the weight of him grounding me. His hand brushes down my thigh, coaxing it to wrap around him, and I do, my skin tinglingwhere we touch.

“It’s going to hurt,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over my cheek. “I’ve heard the first time can be a little uncomfortable for a girl, maybe even hurt. But I promise, if you tell me to stop, I will. You just say the word, Em.”

I nod again, biting my lip as his fingers find mine, lacing them together. “Okay,” I whisper. “I trust you.”

He leans down, kissing me slowly, deeply, as his free hand guides himself to my entrance. The moment I feel him there, pressing against me, I tense. It’s a new sensation, unfamiliar and overwhelming, but his lips don’t leave mine, his voice low and soothing.

“Breathe for me, Em,” he whispers. “Nice and slow, relax.”

I take a shaky breath, and he presses forward, just a little. A sharp sting shoots through me, and I gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders. He freezes instantly, his gaze snapping to mine.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice filled with concern. “Do you want me to stop?”

I shake my head, even as the tears prick at the corners of my eyes. “No,” I manage, my voice trembling. “Just… just go slow.”

He nods, his hand coming up to brush hair back from my face. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs. “We’ll take it slow.”

He inches forward again, his movements careful. The burn gets worse, and I grip his shoulders tighter, my breath hitching. He stops completely, his brow furrowing as he watches me.

“Talk to me, Em,” he says softly. “Does it hurt too much?”

“It hurts,” I admit, my voice barely a whisper. “But it’s… it’s okay. Just give me a second.”

He waits, his chest expanding with controlled breaths as I try to adjust to the intrusion. The discomfort is sharp, a stretching sensation that feels like too much, but beneath it, there’s a flicker of something else—something warmer, deeper, waiting just beneath the surface.

“You’re doing so good,” he whispers, his lips brushing against my forehead. “I’m not going to move until you’re ready. You’re in control here, Em.”

The tenderness in his voice makes my heart ache, and I nod again, my hands trembling as they slide down to rest on his back. “I think… I think I’m okay now.”

He pushes forward a little more, and this time, the burn is still there, but it’s softer, mingling with a warmth spreading through me. I let out a shaky breath, my fingers clutching at him as he pauses again.

“Does it feel better?” he asks, his voice low and filled with concern. “Or do you want me to stop?”

“It’s better,” I whisper, the words barely audible. “You can… keep going.”

He moves slowly, inch by inch, giving me time to adjust with every push. The stretch is still intense, but the pain begins to melt into something else—something more profound. By the time he’s fully inside me, my body is overwhelmed but alive, every nerve ending buzzing with sensation.

Ethan lets out a shaky breath, his forehead resting against mine. “God, Em… you feel fucking unbelievable.” His voice is raw, filled with awe and restraint.

I bite my lip, tears slipping from the corners of my eyes—not from pain, but from the sheer emotion of the moment. He brushes them away with his thumb, his gaze locked on mine.

“Are you okay? Am I hurting you?” he asks, his voice soft but urgent.

I nod, my breath catching as I shift slightly, feeling the way he fills me completely. “It’s… different,” I admit, my cheeks flushing. “But it’s good. Really good.”

“Do you want me to move?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” I whisper back, my fingers tangling in his hair. “Please.”

He starts to move, slow and careful, his hands sliding down to grip my hips, steadying me. Thediscomfort lingers at first, but with each movement of his hips, it fades, replaced by something sweeter. The sensation builds slowly, a delicious heat curling in my stomach, and I let out a soft moan, my head falling back against the pillow.

“You feel so good, Em,” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. “So perfect.”

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