Page 87 of Kept in the Dark
He’s trying to let me adjust, I know, but my muscles have ideas of their own, fluttering around him, and he groans. He pauses, gives me a moment, then shifts his hips back. His first thrust is shallow, slow, and he watches me so carefully that I know he’s still not convinced I’m not going to call the whole thing off. I can feel myself molding around him, conforming to every ridge and vein. A perfect fit.
“Fuuuck,” I wheeze as the air squeezes from my lungs.
It’s a lot. It’s almost too much. And I love every damn bit of it. Tears prickle behind my eyes. I cry out as he hits my cervix, and his hip bones touch my inner thighs.
His penetration is so absolute, it feels life-altering.
How can I ever be the same after knowing how full I can be of someone?
26
Dimitri
That makes her mine entirely, whether she likes it or not.
I have pictured this exact moment, when I would finally take my woman, many times. In the darkness of the top cabin as it rocked gently on calm waters under the stars, I imagined how it would feel to have her under me. In the quiet, soft moments of morning when I woke with her in my arms, I imagined how it would feel to turn her onto her back and settle in between her legs. In the happy moments when I managed to make her laugh, I imagined her on her knees before me, with ruined makeup and a willing mouth.
But I was not imaginative enough to picture the line forming between her scorching golden eyes as her brows come together in pleasured focus, or her lips rounding into an O on a silent cry.
Nothing I imagined could have compared to this. I am glad she did not turn on the light—I do not want her to see me so close and so bare, to remind her I am hard and scarred and ugly, not beautiful and soft like her. But I also hate the darkness of this room for how it deprives me of the finer details. I can feel better than I can see her flushed, heated body, covered in a thin sheen of sweat from what I did to her with my fingers. But the scent of her, the sounds she makes against my lips, the feel of her…
God, the feel of her. Fuck, she’s gripping me so hard.
I intended to fuck her slowly, staying up on my knees, too far for her to reach, but it is too much. I fall onto my hands, framing her lovely face, curling around her until she is everywhere. Her heat is scalding. Her staccato breaths spur me on, ghosting across the sweaty skin of my neck. Her hands clutch my sides. Her legs curl around me.
And her pussy drips with need. She craves me, wants my cock more than she knows how to express. It satisfies something deep and jealous inside me. I wish I had more time or self-control to touch and kiss every inch of her.
Next time.
One hand digs into the mattress for balance, and the other curls around the back of her head, weaving between the rough yet silken strands of hair. She is in a cage of my arms and legs and body, pinned by my grip in her hair, but her skin is hot with lust, and the noises that escape her lips encourage, even as they convey overwhelm.
I greedily claim those noises, taking them into my mouth, swiping my tongue along her lips and teeth. Her taste is so unique—strange, and addictive. I press forward, swallowing her mewl of surprise at the invasion.
The width of her hips provides the perfect, smooth cradle for mine, a pillow for my body that absorbs the force of each thrust. I start slowly—controlled and deliberate—giving her the chance to get used to me. But her sweet moans of pleasure are too much, and after a while, I am driving myself crazy with the achingly slow pace. The burning heaviness in my balls and shaky tightness in my legs and abs are distracting. Holding back like this is torture when all I want is to clench, to pound, to release my strength into her open, willing softness.
She squirms underneath me, tilting her hips up for me to urge me on. And even though the apex of each thrust has my cock nudging her insides in a way that rips a small cry from her chest, still this little vixen’sgolden eyes shine in the low light as she meets mine and hoarsely requests, “Please… please, more.”
Faster, she could have said, or harder. But no,my woman—mymed—wants more. She wants all of me.
With a growl, I adjust our positions, grabbing her upper calf and jerking it away from my hip so I can slide my arm underneath. I pull it up, fitting my forearm into the space behind her knee, and she gasps as the angle changes and I sink even deeper.
“No, no, no, no, no,” she chants, whining on an exhale, moaning and tossing her head side to side against the sensations. Her brows come together, and her face screws up with the pleasure-pain.
My grip in her hair tightens, halting the movements that tug on her scalp. “Yes, Nicole. You can take it. Youwilltake all of me.”
Fuck.Fuck.
That final inch. That last part of my cock that never seems to fit except in certain, less intimate positions. Inside her. It is a tight fucking fit, like a too-small glove, but we are locked in.
“Fuck, Dimitri,” she gasps. “You’re so... so deep!”
“Tell me to stop,” I order as her voice pinches with pain that bleeds into her tone. I know I told her she already had her last chance to say no, but I grit my teeth and manage to still myself, hovering over her.
She just inhales shakily through her teeth.
“Say it,” I growl. If she does not say something, I am going to unleash on her; that final thread holding me back is just about to snap.
“No, don’t! Just… No one’s ever… It’s amazing.”
