Page 51 of The Sharpest Edges

The head is blunt and her body resists. She wants this, knows any pain is temporary and so when he stops, thinking he’s done something wrong, she only urges him on, opening her legs a little further and tilting her hips up for him. That earns her another small thrust and just like that, she spreads open around him, unused muscles flaming. She lets out a whimper as the tip nestles within her. Tears spring at the corners of hereyes and a flicker of another man’s face replaces Dean’s.

Her body freezes.

Her mind goes blank.

Her voice catches in her throat.

He pauses, his biceps trembling. “I’m hurting you. Shit, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He pulls out of her and she feels so fucking hopeless all over again. She couldn’t tell him to stop, but he did anyway and she could sob for how grateful she is that he didn’t keep going. And then cry even harder because she still wants him, still needs him, and doesn’t want to give up on something that shouldn’t be so difficult.

“I dunno know what’s wrong with me.” She shivers, her voice small.

“Nothing’s wrong with you, sweetheart.”

“Don’t leave? I don’t want to stop.”

“Not going anywhere.”

“I thought I was okay, but maybe it was too fast? I still want this. I want you.”

“Shhh.” He hushes her with a warm, gentle kiss. “We got all night. Lemme help you relax?”

She nods, and he slides down to work his tongue between her legs like he did before. It’s so much easier to melt like this, to let her mind drift and her body roll, to allow his thick fingers to take up space inside her again.

Ava has never understood what it meant to be taken care of. Never expected that anyone would allow her the time to ease into this, or be as patient as the man coaxing her to a gentle orgasm. Never imagined she could feel as safe as she does with Dean.

She’s coming before she even realizes it’s happening. Hesteals her breath with a soft suck on her clit, following her as her hips twist and her muscles clamp around his fingers.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, leaving her open and empty as he moves up again to cover her body. “You good?”

She nods and then he reaches down to line himself up, pressing the tip where she needs him and as he eases into her a second time, the burn isn’t as strong, her anxiety is only a figment, and accepting him only feels right.

They agreed to go slow, and he does. It’s a gradual process of inching into her, working the thick shaft deeper and deeper until she isn’t sure there’s anywhere left to go but then he pushes again and their hips connect, his pubic bone reaching hers.

She has never felt this full and despite her willingness it’s uncomfortable but then he’s kissing her again, rolling his hips to shift himself within her as his tongue pushes into her mouth and her body quakes with pleasure, nerves flaring and her desire offering him easy passage.

His movements are shy at first, testing out how they can fit together. Eventually, he settles on rolling thrusts that barely leave her at all, every push so fucking deep it could be too much, and yet she still hikes her legs up higher on his ribs, begging for more. All traces of pain are long forgotten and all she can feel is the delicious weight of him pressing her into the mattress, and his length buried between her legs.

She makes some sort of weird noise, a cross between a moan and a gasp that’s attempting to become a word. Doesn’t even know what she’s trying to say, only that she can feel everything, and there’s a building release clustering just beyond her reach. She can’t come from this alone, and it’s almost maddening to think she might not get there until she reaches down to rubher fingers where she’s swollen.

The snap of his hips speeds up and her orgasm steals her breath. She tightens around the length of him, sucking him further in while she spasms, his chest flush with hers as she rides out the waves that crest and fall and crest again. When she finally stops moving, she realizes he hasn’t come yet. He is still hard inside of her even as she squeezes him tight, only now coming down from the high she felt.

She is languid and supple and her legs fall open away from his hips, laying wide for better access. Her mind drifts, a smile lifting her lips while he pumps in and out of her.

“I love you,” she whispers, knowing she shouldn’t say it now but unable to keep it in.

He shudders above her, muffling a curse into her neck, and then there’s a warm rush within her, coating her walls and leaking out around the base of him to drip down her ass cheeks. There’s a desperation in his thrusts, like he can’t get deep enough and she wraps her arms around him tight, soothing the final few trembles with even strokes of her hands down his back until he collapses over her.

How she feels now, in the aftermath of what they’ve done, is so different from what she’s used to. She’s hard-wired to expect shame and revulsion, to count the seconds until the body pinning her down will break free and leave her alone again. But in this moment she can’t think of anything worse than being separated from Dean.

When he pulls back there is something akin to awe in his eyes and his next words reach into her heart and make a home there. “Love you so much.”

Sothisis what it feels like. Songs are written about it and movies are made around it, this coveted thing that everyonegoes on and on about but Ava always thought was a lie. Love. Such a precious gift she assumed skipped her over until now.

For the first time in her life, she feels like crying after sex because she’s so damn happy.

Their noses nuzzle and their lips mingle, and finally, he pulls free of her. She sighs at the void left behind, unsurprised when he sits back a moment to look at her because he really, really liked to look the other day. She lets him, humming out a lazy sound when he scoops up a few drops of semen from where it’s pooled at her opening and pushes it back inside her with a gentle finger.

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