Page 112 of Penance

“Is it going to hurt?” I ask.

He pulls his eyes away, and I can see the hurt in them.

“It only hurts the first time,” he says. “But I can be gentle.”

Lifting onto my knees, I pull my panties to the side and struggle to put enough room between us that I can push him against that part of me—the part of me that aches and throbs, desperate to be touched.

To be filled.

I can feel his skin sliding against mine, and I moan without thinking.

I can feel the him pressing against my entrance, and I gasp.

It’s so bad, but it feels so good.

But it’s not bad, not anymore.

Right?

He’s going to be my husband. This is right. This is as right as it will ever be.

I push down slowly, teasingly slow, and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out.

It hurts, but it feels good.

It’s exquisite pain, and it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.

He’s stretching me open, filling me up.

I’m his.

His hands find my hips, holding me steady.

It feels so good.

Too good?

I can’t tell anymore.

My body tightens around him, and he growls deep in his throat.

I feel like I’m being split in two, but I don’t want it to stop.

It feels so right.

I push down more, my thighs shaking when they finally meet his hips, and I sit on his lap like a princess on a throne.

I took it.

I took it all.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re so tight.”

It feels like I am, but somehow I’m not.

It feels like we fit together like puzzle pieces, like he was made for me.

“I-I want you to take me,” I say. “I want you to f-fuck me, Draco. Please?”

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