Page 157 of New Growth
He was so afraid of hurting me. I’ve never met a more perfect man.
“I’ve never been more sure,” I whispered, lifting my hips just slightly, giving him the answer he needed.
Keeping his eyes on me, he pressed in slowly, inch by inch, careful not to overwhelm me. My breath caught in my throat as my body stretched to take him, and I reached for him instinctively—needing to feel him, needing to anchor to something.
He responded by wrapping me up. His chest pressed perfectly against mine, his toned arms embraced me and his face buried in my neck. His lips planted reassuring kisses, erasing every trace of lingering doubt. Even if my body tried to protest, even if the past tried to creep in, he wasn’t giving it space this time.
“You’re doing so good,” he murmured into my skin, so low and wrecked. “Tell me if it’s too much,okay?”
I closed my eyes and nodded, pleasure coiled tight inside me.
He kissed my cheek, then my jaw, then my lips, slow and tender as he began to move. Every thrust was deliberate, like he was trying to memorize the feel of me wrapped around him. My fingers dug into his back, legs locked tight around his waist as the pace built until the rhythm made my mind blur and my body beg for release.
A quiet gasp slipped from my throat as my hips tilted into his.
“Right there, baby?” he asked softly.
I nodded, my nails digging harder into his back. “Yeah… right there.”
The rhythm found us easily, like our bodies had been waiting for this moment all along. His hand laced with mine, pinning it gently to the pillow, while his other gripped my hip. Our foreheads touched, our breath mingled, and my body shook for a new reason.
It wasn’t just sex.
He didn’t fuck me like I was broken.
“I love you, Elliot,” he groaned in my ear. And I believed him.
I felt the build before I could brace for it. It crept up my spine and bloomed in my belly until it stole the breath from my lungs.
“El…” I gasped, my fingers curling tighter around his. “I—I think I’m—”
“I got you,” he whispered against my neck. “Let go, baby. Just let go.”
And I did.
My body trembled around him, the pressure unraveling into something I couldn’t put into words. My jaw slackened as I cried out against his neck, the sound muffled by his skin and how close we were. He didn’t stop moving. He held me through it, whispered through it, worshipped me through it until the tremors passed and I could breathe again.
He followed soon after with a groan that I felt in my bones, his hips pressing down hard as he pulsed inside me, burying his face in my neck. The warmth of his release flooding into me, making everything feel real. When he collapsed beside me, he didn’t let go. One arm draped over my waist while his other hand still held mine against the sheets, like he wasn’t ready to release me back into the world just yet.
Neither was I.
For a long moment, all I could hear was our breathing. The fan whirling overhead. The soft creak of the bed settling underneath us.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded, but I couldn’t speak. My throat felt tight. My chest too full. I blinked up at the ceiling, eyes stinging. He pulled me into his chest, by the arm draped over my waist, wrapping me up so that my back was flush against his chest.
“E,” he whispered.
“Yeah?”
He looked down at me, his hand brushing a damp curl from my forehead. “You didn’t shake.”
I swallowed hard. “I know.”
“Why do you think that is?”
I hesitated, then rubbed my thumb against his arm.
