[ it's a strange thing to feel—the combination of anticipation and nervousness once the sheets fall away, his body pressed flush against hers from chest to hip. she feels hot all over, heartbeat loud in her ears as she hooks her leg over his hip easily, only for all the breath to leave her lungs at that first nudge of his cock against her slick center. he tells her to relax—how can she, when she's already so overwhelmed? but she finds herself nodding, bringing her other leg up over his waist, opening herself fully to him.
her brows knit together once they align, kiss-swollen lips parting as he presses deeper. she closes her eyes to the feeling, trembling in his arms by the time he gets about halfway in; each time she thinks he can't get any deeper, the angle shifts and he sinks another inch further until he's completely seated inside, the base of his cock nudging sweetly against her clit. her breaths turn shallow, fingers digging little crescents into his shoulders as her body accommodates to the intrusion, to how full she feels, balanced precariously on the knife's edge of pleasure before it tips over into pain. it's so much that she's dizzy with it, giving in to sensation, to the way he holds her so closely that even if she were to shake apart completely, he would keep her together. a small part of her—the part of her that had always accepted that her body would inevitably be used this way, not for pleasure but for ambition—feels soothed by it: the care, the gentleness layered with safety; an intimacy she'd never known but always craved.
her body is no longer consecrated, but his touch and warmth feel like a blessing anyway. ]
It's okay, [ she says eventually, after minutes or hours. her lips find his again, less of a kiss and more of a sharing of breath. ] You can move. I want you to.
no subject
her brows knit together once they align, kiss-swollen lips parting as he presses deeper. she closes her eyes to the feeling, trembling in his arms by the time he gets about halfway in; each time she thinks he can't get any deeper, the angle shifts and he sinks another inch further until he's completely seated inside, the base of his cock nudging sweetly against her clit. her breaths turn shallow, fingers digging little crescents into his shoulders as her body accommodates to the intrusion, to how full she feels, balanced precariously on the knife's edge of pleasure before it tips over into pain. it's so much that she's dizzy with it, giving in to sensation, to the way he holds her so closely that even if she were to shake apart completely, he would keep her together. a small part of her—the part of her that had always accepted that her body would inevitably be used this way, not for pleasure but for ambition—feels soothed by it: the care, the gentleness layered with safety; an intimacy she'd never known but always craved.
her body is no longer consecrated, but his touch and warmth feel like a blessing anyway. ]
It's okay, [ she says eventually, after minutes or hours. her lips find his again, less of a kiss and more of a sharing of breath. ] You can move. I want you to.