Page 50 of A Matter of Time

He did as he was told, and when he had the small bottle in his hand, I turned my head, and his eyes locked with mine as he gave it to me.

“Come here.” I was gentle, moving slowly because he was watching so intently as I poured lube into my right hand and then slathered his length, stroking him, loving the feel of him thickening in my grip. When his eyes finally lifted to mine, they were heavy-lidded, and he was rock hard in my hand, his breathing shaky. I turned and bent over the bed, and I felt his hands sliding over my ass, parting my cheeks, opening me up before he eased inside. I brought his slick hand back to me, and he stroked me at the same time for as long as he could.

He was careful, moving slowly because he was big. And while I appreciated that, I needed him inside.

“Please,” I begged him, but still, he entered slowly, carefully, taking his time. “I really need you to⁠—”

“I wanna be in you so bad it’s fuckin’ killin’ me,” he ground out, his breath hot on my ear, down the side of my neck, “but I refuse to hurt you, you understand?”

I did, and the thought that he wanted me, desperately, but was holding back over concern for me was a novel one. Normally, when I gave myself to another person, it was more for their pleasure than mine. This was new, and I felt my stupid heart stutter in response.

The press into my body, the stretch of my muscles hurt, but also, the way he was stroking, the steady rhythm, felt amazing. I pushed forward into his fist, then back, farther onto his cock as I writhed in his arms.

“Jory,” he rumbled in my hair. “Turn your head.”

When I did, he took my mouth in a devouring kiss like he wanted to eat me. Our tongues tangled and rubbed as he pushed deeper inside, and then he thrust and I moaned loudly.

His chuckle was filthy and all smug male as he pulled back so he could ease out and then drive to my core a second time.

I screamed his name.

“Oh yes,” he crowed, feeling my muscles clenching around him, but allowing for the slide and the rutting. “Jesus, you’re so tight.”

“I feel good.”

“So good,” he groaned, his hands moving to my hips, holding me there, making sure I couldn’t move as he pounded into me.

It didn’t take long before he called my name, his hips snapping forward one last time as he pinned me under him to the bed.

“Holy shit,” he gasped, careful as he slid out of me moments later.

I rolled over on my back and was ready to take care of myself when he stopped me. I smiled slowly. “You gotta let me do this,” I panted, my laughter forced. “I could die from⁠—”

“I’ll do it. I want to.”

I shook my head. “No, I’ll⁠—”

But he was insistent on reciprocating, pulling my hands away, moving between my legs and taking me into his mouth. He had no idea what he was doing, but it still felt like heaven, and the fact that he wanted to, coupled with his eyes locked on mine, checking to make sure it was good for me, took me right to the edge. I warned him to stop, and he moved, watching me finish. When my eyes slowly drifted back open, I was surprised to find him staring at my face.

“What?”

“I made you feel good.” It was a statement.

“Yes.”

He nodded slowly, moving up beside me, still staring down into my face.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly, reaching for him, loving that he leaned close so I could touch him and smooth the hair back from his forehead. The way he was looking at me made my stomach hurt, so trusting and peaceful.

“Yes.” He nodded as I got up off the bed.

I took longer in the bathroom than I needed to, giving him time to escape, allowing for a clean getaway. I was surprised to find him in the same position, still on his back and staring at the ceiling when I finally emerged. I was halfway to the love seat when he spoke and stopped me.

“Come back to bed.”

I went to the opposite side, close to the wall, and lay on my stomach. I was trying to figure out what to do next when I felt him move, roll toward me, before his fingers slid slowly down my spine.

“I never did that before.”