Page 13 of His Secret Toy
“Yes.”
He moves quietly and purposefully. He takes his jacket off, then his shirt. When he unbuckles his belt, he doesn’t break eye contact. It’s not a performance. He’s not putting on a show.
It’s a warning.
He pauses, just long enough to look at my face again.
“I’m not going to pretend I didn’t know,” he says. “You’re not the kind of girl who lets men in.”
I swallow hard. “And now?”
He leans closer. “Now you’re letting me own what no one else touched. And you’ll remember every second of it.”
He kneels on the bed, knees bracketing mine. I reach for him eagerly, but he catches my wrist.
“No touching. Not yet.”
His other hand moves to my cheek, thumb dragging along my lower lip. Then he leans in and speaks directly into my mouth.
“I’m going to go slow.”
“I want that,” I whisper.
He shifts lower, his hand sliding between my thighs, checking. My hips lift without thinking.
“You’re ready,” he says. “Look at me.”
I do.
He groans softly, spreading my legs wider as he positions himself at my wet entrance. I buck against him, desperate to have him inside me.
“Every inch of you,” he murmurs, pushing forward, “all for me.”
He enters in one long, steady press.
I gasp. My hand flies to his chest, not to stop him—just to feel him. I’m desperate for his heartbeat, the heat of his skin, to try to gauge the weight of him inside me.
He holds still.
“Too much?”
I shake my head fast. “No. Don’t stop.”
His hips roll forward once, then again, deeper. His body tenses instinctively, but I surprise him by holding still, waiting without easing up, very firmly and fully sealed.
The world is held suspended as I struggle to adapt to his girth. I'm unsure of what to do, I've never felt so impaled; so full.
The stretch burns, but not in a way that makes me want out. It makes me want more.
I close my eyes and feel him tap my cheek almost immediately.
“No. Eyes open. Stay with me.”
I obey and breathe through the push of him. My legs spread wider as he drops his forehead to mine.
“You’re taking it well.”
A single tear slips down the side of my face. I’m not sure why. It’s neither from pain nor regret.
