Page 118 of Playing for Keeps
“It just keeps getting better.” I watch as he steps away from the bed and slides off his pants. My eyes are drawn to the obvious outline beneath his boxers, and his arousal is impossible to miss.
I bite my lip, my pulse quickening as he pushes his boxers down his legs. I’ve got nothing to compare him to, but damn, he’s big. I own toys, sure. They’re single girl essentials, but none of them come close to this.
He bends down to grab his pants from the floor and pulls out his wallet, sliding out a condom. As he starts to tear it open, I sit up.
“Can I do it?” I ask.
His lips curl into a smile. “Yeah. Of course.”
He kneels in front of me on the bed and I wrap my hand around him. A low groan escapes his throat as I stroke him slowly, savoring the feel of him in my palm. But before long, his hand covers mine, stilling it.
“Ivy,” he breathes. “As good as that feels, if you keep going, it’s going to be over too soon. After touching you, I’m barely holding on.”
My eyes widen a little, and he chuckles, handing me the condom.
With trembling fingers, I tear it open and roll it down his length, my grip drawing another strained sound from his lips. He leans in to kiss me, slowly easing me back onto the bed as our mouths stay locked.
His hand skims down my side, finding its way between my legs. His touch has me moaning, my body arching into his as he works me closer and closer to the edge. His fingers stretch me open, two, then three, and every movement leaves me aching for more.
His lips trail kisses along my jaw, hovering just beneath my ear.
“You close, baby?”
I can only nod, lost in the sensation.
When he pulls his hand away, I let out a quiet whimper at the loss. Then he positions himself between my legs, guiding himself to my entrance.
“You’re sure?” he asks, his voice gentle.
“Yeah,” I whisper, nerves fluttering in my stomach. “Just… go slow.”
He cups my cheek, his thumb brushing my skin. “I will. If you need me to stop, just say the word.”
I give him a small, reassuring smile.
He kisses me again then slowly begins to ease inside. I gasp into his mouth, my body tensing against the unfamiliar pressure.
“Relax,” he murmurs against my lips. “Just breathe.”
I’m trying, but it really fucking hurts. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, willing myself to let go. Wyatt continues to kiss me, and slowly I feel myself relaxing.
“I’m all the way in, baby,” he says, his voice low and I know he’s holding himself back. “Are you okay?”
I manage a nod, too overwhelmed to speak. The sensation of fullness is intense, almost too much, but not in a bad way. He stays still, giving me a moment, then slowly begins to move, pulling back and easing forward again. It still hurts, but the discomfort is fading with each careful thrust.
Wyatt drops his head to my breast, pulling my nipple into his mouth. His tongue circles it, the sensation pulling a moan from my lips. My hips lift instinctively, meeting his rhythm as the pain starts to blur into something else, something better.
“God, Wyatt,” I whimper.
He stills and lifts his eyes to mine. “Am I hurting you?” he asks, his voice full of concern.
“No. Please don’t stop.”
He chuckles. “I won’t. You feel so good, Ivy,” he says, his voice husky. “You’re so tight.”
“Can you go faster? Please,” I ask, not caring that I’m begging.
He smiles and slowly increases the speed of his thrusts, until he’s slamming into me.
