Page 60 of The Teacher of Nothing
“I want that,” I purr.
He shakes his head. “No, beautiful. I’m going to take care of you like I promised. Knocking you up the first time we have sex isn’t very responsible of me. Trust me. We’ll have our chance.”
Since I do trust him, I nod. “I trust you.”
“Good girl.” He smiles at me. “Relax and let me make love to you, baby.”
Our mouths meet for a heated kiss, his tongue teasing and dancing with mine. I’m dizzied by the sensations he’s offering both physically and emotionally, that I almost miss when he starts trying to enter me. At first, it feels as though my body is a wall and he’s attempting to crash through it. I clench every muscle in anticipation.
“No, Willa,” he growls. “Not like that.”
Our eyes meet and his are full of fire.
“Relax. If you don’t, it’ll hurt, and I refuse to hurt you.”
I focus on releasing the tension that has me seized up, but fail miserably. My muscles burn and now my eyes do too.
“I can’t relax,” I whimper. “I’m too nervous. I’m sorry I’m messing it all up.”
“Hey,” he murmurs, lips against mine, “you’re not messing anything up. You just haven’t learned how to let go yet. I’m going to teach you.”
He trails kisses along my jaw to my neck. It feels so good to have the heat of his breath and the slickness of his tongue on my sensitive flesh. A moan rattles out of me and my eyes flutter closed.
“There you go. Such a perfect girl.”
His cock is slowly easing into my body, stretching and filling me with each breath we take. I’m overwhelmed by him and us and what we’re doing. It’s painful and amazing and beautiful and sexy. Too much and yet not enough.
The burn is intense and the stab of him inside me feels like it could leave a bruise, but that’s not what has tears forming in my eyes.
It’s him.
He’s so caring and gentle and attentive.
And he wants me.
Needs me.
Willing to risk everything to be with me.
I’ve never had anyone go all in with me like this. It’s the words he says, the things he does, the way he makes me feel, both mentally and physically.
“Perfect fit,” he murmurs against my neck. “Feel me deep inside you?”
“Y-yes.”
“I won’t last long. Not with how tight you are. Fuck, it’s like being a teenager all over again.”
“I feel good?”
“You feel fucking amazing.”
“Will you kiss me?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, his lips find mine. His hips thrust and I’m knocked into oblivion. I claw at his skin—neck, shoulders, biceps—all to feel closer to him. The next few seconds or minutes or eons go by in a blur. He slides a finger between my pussy lips, seeking out my clit, when his thrusting goes quickerand quicker. I feel like he’s close and he wants me to come at the same time. With him massaging my clit relentlessly, it doesn’t take long before my back arches and I cry out something unintelligible.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, mouth hovering over mine.
His cock swells and he tenses. I can feel him pumping and pumping. I’m struck with sadness because the condom will keep his cum from filling me up. Now that he’s mentioned what he wants to do but won’t because he’s trying to be responsible, it’s all I want too.
