Page 101 of Brittle Heart

It sends her over the edge, her thighs tightly squeezing my arm, which draws a growl of appreciation from me. “You’re so fucking sexy. I’m lucky I didn’t just come in my pants,” I tell her, punctuating my words with a peck on her nose.

When she stops panting, I pull my hand from her jeans and bring my finger to my mouth, tasting her. Her flavor is addictive, and I close my eyes to fully savor it. When I open them again, she’s looking at me wide-eyed.

“Everything okay?” I ask, brushing some hair from her face. She nods, her gaze dropping to the noticeable bulge in my pants. As she reaches for it, I stop her. “No, Carolina, this was just about you. You don’t need to—”

“But I want to,” she says, her cheeks coloring again. “I’m curious. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I’m not sure I can make it as good for you, but I want to touch you too. Can I?”

Fuck.“I’m all yours. You can do whatever you want with me,” I say, kissing her before reclining back on the mattress and unbuttoning my pants.

She scoots over, and her hand hovers above me, carefully watching my every move until her eyes meet mine again. “I don’t know what…”

I take her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm before guiding it to my crotch, over my boxers, my cock rock hard. “Touch me. Hold me. Squeeze me. Do whatever you feel like doing.”

“What if I hurt you?” she asks, her voice filled with concern.

I can’t help but chuckle. “I promise you won’t.”

With my reassuring words, she seems to gain a little confidence. She slowly, tentatively takes me in her hand, her touch light over my boxers.

A sharp breath hisses through my teeth from finally having her hands on me. “See? You’re doing great,” I encourage her, my voice strained. “You can… you can go a bit firmer if you want.”

She takes my advice to heart and grips me, her hand moving up and down in an uncertain rhythm. I close my eyes, trying to focus on not coming right then and there, all because of her innocent touch.

It’s pure bliss, and in the back of my mind, I marvel that she chose me to be her first with this, to be the one who shows her stuff.

“Carolina…” I murmur her name like a prayer, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through me.

This girl is going to be the end of me.

As she continues to touch me, she grows more confident, her movements becoming less hesitant, her rhythm steadier. She stops, but just to pull my boxers down and grip my cock without a barrier. “You’re so soft and hard at the same time,” she comments, and a low groan escapes me.

I reach over to cup her cheek, my thumb stroking her flushed skin. Pulling her closer, I capture her lips with mine, pouring all the feelings I have for her into the kiss.

Caught up in the heat of the moment, I weave my fingers through her hair, pulling her even closer. The taste of her lips, the scent of her skin, and the feel of her hand on me it’s all too much, a sensory overload that’s driving me to the edge.

She seems to be overwhelmed too, because her strokes get a little bit too fast.

“Breathe,” I manage to say between heavy breaths. “Take it slow… just… like that,” I direct, gritting my teeth with how good it feels.

My heart is pounding in my chest, my breath ragged. This connection between us goes deeper than anything I’ve ever known. I want this moment to last forever, to stay lost in her touch, in the rhythm of her hand moving against me.

I’m wasted on her in the way she grips me, and no matter how much I want to prolong this moment, I come with a strained groan. My hips jerk involuntarily with each jolt as I release into her hand.

My body trembles with the force of it, the moment leaving me breathless, my chest heaving as I try to regain some semblance of control. I rest my forehead against hers. “That was… amazing,” I manage to say between panting for breath, my voice hoarse.

When I lean back to look at her, the look in her eyes is one of pride mixed with a sweet innocence that takes my breath away all over again. She’s truly perfect in every sense of the word, and I am the luckiest man alive.

I’m just about to get up to get her something to clean up with when she brings her hand to her mouth, licking it. I moan, nearly coming again just from watching her taste me.

“Carolina, you don’t—”

“You taste good, salty but good,” she states, and I stare at her in disbelief. “Do I taste good too?”

I let out a huffed laugh before leaning in to kiss her again, tasting myself on her tongue. “You taste like the dessert I could eat for the rest of my life,” I whisper.

I pull my boxers and pants back up and lay down, drawing her close so her head rests against my chest.

“What does your name mean?” she asks after a while, drawing circles on my forearm with her finger.

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