Page 35 of Citadel

If he believes I don’t like this—even a little—he’s not going to do it at all.

In part, it’s a relief. A comfort. He’ll never push me to do something I don’t want. But it also kind of annoys me. That he might believe I’m not ready to fuck him.

It’s like a challenge.

Because I am ready. I do want this. And yes, he feels way, way too big inside me, but my body is already adjusting and it feels better than it did a minute ago. I breathe and relax and meet his gaze without wavering.

After another minute, the corner of his mouth twitches up very slightly.

I suck in a breath. “What?”

“What?”

“What are you laughing about?”

“I’m not laughing.”

“Yes, you fucking are. I saw it on your face. Are you really laughing at me?”

“No, I’m not laughing at you. You really think I’d be tempted to laugh when I’m all the way inside your hot little body?” His voice is rough and mesmerizing. “But you were glaring at me like you’re mad.”

“I’m not mad.” I can’t hold back a little giggle at his dry tone. “I thought you were going to stop, and I didn’t want you to stop. I’m not a kid or a weakling, and I want to do this.”

He moves his hands, shifting my hips so that he slides just slightly inside me. It makes me gasp. “I know you’re not a kid or a weakling, baby. I know it for sure.”

He rocks his pelvis a few times, making small pumps inside me. I suck in another sharp breath and reach out to grip the sheet beneath me.

“You like that?”

I make a humming sound. I’m biting my bottom lip again, trying to process the new sensations.

He thrusts some more—still slow and shallow. “You like that?”

I close my eyes and try not to flail. The aching pressure has eased a lot, and everything is starting to feel so deep and needed and good. “Mm-hmm.”

He adjusts my position so the angle of his penetration changes. He’s thrusting steady and rhythmic now. “You like that?” The question is more insistent now, demanding an answer.

“Yes!” The word is forced out of me as a new orgasm starts to build at my core.

He fucks me like that—steady and fast but not hard—until I shake through a deep climax. Then he pulls out, lies down beside me on the bed, and pulls me on top of him so I’m straddling his hips.

I’m awkward for a few seconds, unsure of what to do in this new position, but he holds his cock in place and helps me position myself until I sheath him with my pussy.

He stares up me, his big hands gripping my hips. He’s fully in control of my motion, which I like. I don’t actually want to be in charge here. I don’t feel like I know what I’m doing.

After a minute, I feel more comfortable and start to ride him, leaning down enough to brace myself on his shoulders. As I speed up, my breasts start to bounce. His eyes lower to watch them, his gaze shifting from my face to my breasts to where his cock is sliding in and out of me.

He’s still into this. He’s really liking it. It looks like he wants to swallow me whole.

“Fuck, baby,” he mutters after several minutes. “Rub yourself off.”

It never even occurred to me. The sensations have plateaued, but they’re all incredibly pleasurable. But I do what he says automatically, letting go of his shoulder and sliding my hand between my thighs until I can reach my clit. I rub it in fast, tight circles, whimpering as my pussy starts to clench around him.

“Yes,” he says between his teeth. His nostrils are flaring. His face is damp with perspiration. “That’s my girl. Just like that.”

I keep rubbing and get excited when the pleasure starts building again. Then I cry out loudly when the orgasm breaks hard.

As I’m still riding out the spasms, he sits up, changing our position again. He’s pushing into me now, his face very close to mine. I can feel his panting breath. The heat from his body. The tension in his muscles.

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