I nod.
“I love peanut butter. And green beans. How’z you know?”
“Emmy told me,” I admit. “I wanted to make sure you liked what I made.”
“Iz really good. You’z tell me your limits?”
What the hell are my limits again? “I’m, uh, still figuring things out. I know I don’t want serious pain. I mean, I don’t want to give my submissive serious pain.”
Cynnie sets down her utensils and takes a sip of her drink. “I’m going to be big for a minute while we talk about limits, okay?”
“Yes, absolutely. I love it when you’re little, but this is probably important to talk about when you’re big.”
“Okay.” She brushes her hair out of her face and twists it over one shoulder in a long fall of black silk. “So, if you’ve been talking with Emmy about me, she’s probably told you I’m not a masochist like she is.” She watches me with those dark eyes and when I nod, she continues, “I’m okay with mild pain. Spankings as long as you’re not hitting me hard. Paddles and canes scare little me. I’m kind of a cry-baby when I’m little, so don’t worry if I cry. You haven’t done anything wrong. I can use safe words even when I’m very little.”
“How, um, young do you go?” I ask, remembering what Logan had to say about Emily’s little age.
“I won’t go too young with you?—”
I cut her off, shaking my head. “I don’t want you to censor yourself. I want to see your little.”
“My little’s on the younger side. Three or four when I’m deep in littlespace.”
“Is your little, um, sexual?”
She shakes her head. “I need to be older during those times.”
I let out a breath I wasn’t aware of holding. “Okay, I’m good with that. But I don’t think we should go there tonight. Right? I mean, we’re just getting to know each other.”
There’s a flash of something that could be disappointment in her eyes before she hides by taking another sip of her drink. “Right. Bad idea on a first date.”
“Super bad idea,” I agree.
That is, of course, how I end up railing her up my bed three hours later.
I could blame the beer, but I had less than a whole bottle. I could blame the warm August night that made everything cute and silly as we washed the dishes, flicking soap bubbles at each other until my T-shirt and her dress were soaked and we had to take them off. I could blame the amazing round breasts and nipped-in waist she was hiding beneath her shapeless dress that I couldn’t take my eyes or hands or mouth off, as soon as she undressed.
I could blame any of those things, but I can’t bring myself to blame anything when I’m driving into her with that basso growl rumbling through my chest again at how good she feels under me, around me as she clings to me with her round thighs and soft pussy. I shove my hands under her shoulders and grip them to hold her in place, so I don’t slam her into the headboard with every thrust and she’s squealing, moaning, panting in my ear as she rises to each plunge of my body into hers.
“More, more, more!” she chants.
I give her what she asks for, dragging down on her shoulders to pin her into the mattress while I hammer into her. The pounding must hurt. I’m going at her harder than I’ve ever let myself fuck a girl before. She buries her face in my shoulder and I’m about to ease off when she bites down hard and sinks her nails into my ass.
“Fuck!” I growl and buck into her as she pulls her head back, my skin still caught in her teeth and the pain throws me over the edge, shuddering all over in burst after burst of release that has bloody fireworks shooting behind my eyes and my ballsemptying for the second time tonight with an all-mighty moan that comes from deep in my soul.
I jerk to a stop, holding myself over her on my knees and elbows so I don’t crush her. She’s so tiny. Why the hell did I think missionary was a good idea? She came when I was eating her out and again when I was bouncing her on my cock on the couch and I’ve read most women don’t come from penetration in missionary and her body’s still wound tight as a spring under me. I reach down between us and find her little nub, flicking it with my middle finger until she throws her head back and howls a tiny howl and I feel her go over, muscles bunching in the arms and legs still banded around me and her pussy squeezing, squeezing, squeezing so hard I see stars again.
Her hands suddenly gentle on my ass like she’s just realized how deep her nails were digging and she starts stroking up and down my spine, a tapping that sets off a weird reverberation in my balls which leap again and the pussy strangling my cock squeezes and I swear I come again with another groan even though I’m sure that’s not physically possible.
She goes limp under me. So limp I rear back to check she hasn’t passed out. She smiles up at me, eyes hazy and dark. Those endless, gleaming depths. They swallow me deeper than her pussy and I glide in and out a couple of times, enjoying the way she sucks me in and squeezes, before I slip out and collapse onto my side.
Cynnie rolls to face me.
“Hi,” she says.
I start laughing. Her answering giggle fills all the silent spaces in my apartment.
“No,” I say. “No, no, no, no. You said that after the first time and that’s how round two started.”
