Page 19 of Pretending with the Mountain Man
"Understatement."
He sits beside me on the bed, gathering me against his chest. "We can stop here if you want. That was beautiful to watch."
"I don't want to stop." I look up at him, seeing my own desire reflected in his dark eyes. "I want all of it. All of you."
His jaw tightens. "You're sure?"
"I've never been more sure of anything."
He stands, removing his jeans and boxers in one motion. My eyes widen at the sight of him, fully aroused, and nervous energy floods through me.
"That's going to fit?" The question escapes before I can stop it.
His laugh is warm, affectionate. "Yes, baby. Bodies are designed for this. But we'll go slow. I promise."
He retrieves a condom from the bedside drawer, rolling it on. Then he's back, positioning himself over me, his weight supported on his forearms.
"Look at me," he says, waiting until my eyes meet his. "We stop the second you want to. Say the word, and I stop. Understood?"
"Understood."
He kisses me deeply, tongues tangling as his hand slides between us to ensure I'm ready. When he positions himself at my entrance, he pauses.
"Deep breath," he instructs. "And relax as much as you can."
He pushes in slowly, and I feel my body stretch to accommodate him. It's not painful exactly, just intense. Full. Foreign.
"You okay?" he asks, voice strained with the effort of holding still.
"Yes. More. Please."
He sinks deeper, and this time there's a sharp pinch that makes me gasp. He freezes immediately.
"Melody?"
"It's okay," I manage. "Just... give me a second."
He holds perfectly still, pressing kisses to my forehead, my cheeks, my lips. "Breathe through it, baby. Your body needs time to adjust."
I focus on breathing, on relaxing muscles that want to clench. Slowly, the discomfort fades, replaced by a different kind of fullness. A rightness.
"Okay," I say. "You can move."
He does, pulling back slightly before sinking in again. Each slow thrust helps my body adjust, accept, welcome him. The pain fades completely, leaving behind building pleasure as he finds a rhythm.
"You feel incredible," he groans, forehead pressed to mine. "So tight. So perfect."
His words send heat spiraling through me. I'm doing this. Actually doing this. And it feels nothing like I feared and everything like I hoped.
"Faster," I breathe, wrapping my legs around his waist.
"You sure?"
"Please, Malik. I need more."
He complies, increasing his pace while still maintaining control. One hand slides between us, finding my clit and circling with practiced precision. The dual stimulation pushes me toward another peak.
"I'm close again," I gasp, surprised by how quickly my body responds to him.
