Page 9 of Christmas with the Firefighter
"Come here," I breathe, reaching for him.
He moves over me, bracing his weight on his forearms, and the first touch of skin against skin makes us both gasp. He's warm and solid above me, all muscle and strength and control that I suddenly want to shatter.
He reaches between us, the head of his cock brushing against me, slick and hot. "You sure?"
"God, yes."
He pushes forward slowly, carefully, letting me adjust to the stretch and fullness. It's been so long that the sensation is overwhelming.
"Fuck," he groans, forehead dropping to rest against mine. "You feel incredible."
When he's fully seated inside me, we both go still, breathing hard. I can feel my body adjusting around him, muscles relaxing to accommodate his size, and when I experimentally clench around him, he makes a sound like I'm killing him.
"Don't," he warns. "Not yet. Need a minute."
"Are you okay?"
"Too good. You feel too good."
After a moment, he starts to move—long, slow strokes that light up every nerve ending I have. I wrap my legs around his waist,heels digging into the small of his back, changing the angle so he hits that perfect spot inside me with every thrust.
"There," I gasp. "Right there."
He adjusts his rhythm, hitting that same spot over and over until I'm seeing stars. His mouth finds mine, swallowing my moans as he moves inside me with increasing urgency.
But I want to see him lose control, want to watch his face when he comes apart. So I press against his chest, encouraging him to pull out, to let me move.
"What—?"
"Turn over," I whisper. "Let me."
He rolls onto his back without argument, and I straddle his hips, taking him inside me again from this new angle. The position lets him go deeper, and we both groan at the sensation.
I start to move, finding a rhythm that works for both of us, my hands braced on his chest for leverage. From here I can watch his face, can see the way his jaw clenches when I roll my hips, can hear the way my name sounds like a prayer on his lips.
"God, Miranda. Just like that."
His hands grip my hips, guiding my movements, and when I lean forward to change the angle, his mouth finds my breast, tongue circling my nipple until I'm gasping above him.
The new position puts pressure on my clit with every movement, and I can feel myself getting close again, that familiar tension building low in my belly.
"I'm going to—" I start, but the words get lost in a moan as he thrusts up to meet me.
"Do it," he growls against my breast. "Come for me."
But before I can tip over the edge, he's rolling us again, pinning me beneath him with renewed urgency. This time when he enters me, it's with purpose, driving deep and hard until I'm clinging to him desperately.
"Need to feel you," he pants against my ear. "Need to feel you come around me."
The orgasm hits like a tidal wave, rolling through me in pulses that make me cry out and dig my nails into his back. I clench around him helplessly, body shaking with the force of my release.
"Fuck, yes," he groans, and then he's following me over, driving deep one last time as he spills inside me with a hoarse shout of my name.
We collapse together, both breathing hard and slick with sweat. He's heavy on top of me, but I don't want him to move. Don't want this perfect moment to end.
After a few minutes, he lifts his head to look at me. "You okay?"
"More than okay."
