Page 39 of Late to Love

Eyes steady on mine, he adjusts my leg to allow him better access. “You feel so good, baby. Relax. Let me in. Breathe.”

I blow out, not realizing that I was holding my breath. He pushes in another inch, and I inhale again. On my exhale, he pushes in farther.

“Almost there. You’re doing so good,” he praises.

“You’re so big,” I rasp.

“I know,” he smiles, then gently pushes a strand of hair away from my forehead before cupping my face. His thumb strokes my cheek. “You can take it. You were made just for me.”

My body goes hot again at his words, waves of goosebumps rising as I rotate my hips. The movement opens me up a little more, and his eyes go molten.

“Fuck, baby,” he grits, then, on another swirl of my hips, he thrusts all the way in.

I gasp, slamming my eyes shut at the intensity of sensations flowing around me.

“Breathe,” he reminds me.

I try. I’m so full.

“Open your eyes, gorgeous,” he coaxes.

My eyes find his, and even though his brow is furrowed, his entire body tensed with the effort of holding himself back, the sight of him is soothing. Immediately I relax and let myself sink into the mattress.

He lowers his mouth to mine for a gentle kiss. Then he raises up, his searing gaze meeting mine as he pulls out, and slams home.

I cry out, the feeling unlike anything I’ve ever experienced in my life, a riot of bliss centered low in my belly and whooshing out with every motion Anthony makes above me. I moan as his hips swirl and dip, stroking me again and again, delivering round after round of pleasure so naturally and effortlessly that I wonder why I haven’t been after a man like this for my entire sexual life.

Finally used to the size of him, I meet him thrust for thrust, watching the cords of his neck go taut with movement, nearly mindless with how good he feels.

“Play with yourself,” he commands.

My eyes snap to his. “What?”

He doesn’t stop thrusting into me. “Put your hand on your gorgeous pussy and touch yourself. Get yourself off. Because I won’t last this time. You feel way too fucking good.”

I reach down to circle my clit, and the sensation is nearly overwhelming.

“There you go,” he says. “This tight little cunt is going to come all over my cock, isn’t it? Then I’m going to fill you up.”

“Fuck,” I whine, my hips losing control as he pounds into me. “Fuck, Anthony, oh my?—”

Without warning, the orgasm slams into me, hot and bright.

Anthony growls, pistoning into me before stilling, and I feel his release as his cock moves. It’s hot and wet, and I’ve never felt anything like it.

He cups my chin and delivers a punishing kiss, sliding his hips in and out more gently now, as we both come down from the orgasms. The kiss grows softer as he relaxes, a smile crossing his lips as he pulls out of me, his cum beginning to seep out. Wordlessly, he takes two fingers and pushes the cum back inside, and my hips writhe at the pleasure his fingers deliver.

Satisfied, he rolls to the side and props his head in his hands to look at me. His gaze is gentle.

I don’t know what to do, but my only thought is to get up. When I try, he puts a hand on my wrist. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Going to the bathroom?” It comes out as a question.

“I didn’t say I was done with you.”

“But—”

His eyes narrow, but his mouth is soft as he says, “Damn, Darcy, what kind of boys have you been with before now?”

---