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I want him more than I’ve ever—Panic flares. I’m about to have sex for the first time, and he has no idea. Should I tell him? What if I’m terrible? What if it—

With a single thrust, he breaks through the barrier. The stretch and burn make me scream, digging my nails into his back.

“Fuck.” He places kisses on my cheek and neck. “You okay?”

Tears gather under the blindfold. “Y-yes.” I let out a shaky breath. “Move, please.”

He brushes his lips over mine in a tender kiss as his body remains still, letting me acclimate to the intrusion. “I’ll go slow.” His voice is strained, and his fingers dig into my hips while setting a gentle pace, hips rolling against mine.

I breathe through the discomfort, letting it flow through my whole body.

“That’s it, just breathe. You’re doing so well, taking me so deeply.”

There’s pain, but also a building pressure that has me craving more.

“You feel incredible, so hot and tight around me,” he murmurs.

His measured pace lets me gradually accommodate his size. My inner muscles flutter around him as I give myself over to the feelings.

I wrap my legs around his waist, needing him deeper. He obliges, pressing in firmly until our hips are flush.

“That’s my girl, taking all of me now,” he says. “You were made for this, made for me.”

I cry out as he hits a spot deep within me that has lightning skittering across my skin. My nails rake down his back, and he hisses, pace quickening.

The blindfold heightens every sensation, my world narrowing to the soft sheets beneath me, the slide of his chest against my sensitive nipples, his warm breath on my neck, and the rhythmic friction as he moves inside me.

I want to say his name. Except for no names tonight, so I bite my lip.

He shifts one hand between us, circling my clit, and all my effort is out the window.

“Chris.”

His movements stutter for a second before snapping his hips harder and diving deeper into me. They border on rough but never hurtful. The bed creaks under us, my moans growing louder and more desperate. I’m so close, teetering on the edge.

It’s too much. The fullness of him inside me, the electric jolts of bliss radiating out from his touch.

“That’s it, baby, let go for me.” His deep voice is ragged with lust.

A few more perfect strokes and my inner walls clamp down on him as intense, body-shaking waves crash over me, vision going white behind the blindfold. He curses, his pace faltering before he slams into me once, twice, and with a few hard, jerkingthrusts, he pulls out of me and cums. It hits my stomach, breasts, and between my legs.

“I could get used to this view.” His hands float over my body.

I giggle, still coming down from my climax and feeling so at ease. Is it supposed to feel like this, the warmth of satisfaction mixed with the chill of vulnerability?

“Don’t move.” He moves away, and I hear a door and the rush of water for a few seconds.

Then I hear footsteps coming closer, and something warm glides over my thighs. It feels like a wet cloth. He gently wipes my body, cleaning me up. Once he’s done, he slips under the covers, drawing me against his chest from behind, and caresses my arm with soothing circles.

This feels right. I snuggle deeper into his embrace, feeling safe and content for the first time in forever, like I’m finally where I belong.

Chris’s voice is a soft rumble next to my ear. “Mary?”

“Hmm?”

“I…” His grip on me tightens. “You should sleep. Is it okay if I hold you like this?”

“It’s perfect.” Why would he even ask?

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