Page 320 of A Vicious Love

She eased back, mouth wet, cheeks flushed, breathing uneven. “I wanted to.”

Christ.

“I know, baby.” I brushed my thumb along her lower lip, gathering the shine there. “And I’m very proud of you for wanting. But if you keep trying to take more, I’m going to forget the plan.”

Her eyes dropped between us, then back up. I eased my finger from her slowly. Her body tightened around me for a second, reluctant, and she made a soft protest into my mouth.

“Easy,” I murmured. “I’m getting something.”

She watched me move to the bedside drawer, eyes following every line of my body with growing confidence. It should have soothed my ego. It did. Far too much. My fiancée, naked in my bed, staring at me.

I found the lube and returned to the bed.

Her gaze fixed on the bottle.

“That looks serious,” she said.

“It is serious. I’m serious about making this good for you.”

Her throat moved. “And if it still hurts?”

I sat beside her and set the bottle on the sheet.

“I thought it was supposed to hurt the first time,” she said.

“It might.” I stroked her thigh, keeping my touch slow, giving her the truth without letting fear own the room. “I can’t promise no pain. You’re tight, you’re new to this, and I’m not small.”

Her cheeks went bright again, and the corner of my mouth almost betrayed me.

“Do not look that pleased with yourself,” she said.

“I’m showing restraint.”

“You’re doing something with your face.”

“My face is innocent.”

“It is absolutely not.”

I laughed softly and leaned down to kiss the inside of her knee. “You’re arguing with me while naked and spread in my bed. Very brave.”

Her breath caught when my mouth moved higher. “I’m trying to distract myself.”

“I see that.” I poured lube over my fingers, warmed it in my palm, and watched her eyes follow the movement. “Keep talking if it helps.”

She smiled, nervous then lost the smile when my hand returned between her thighs.

I touched her slowly at first, over her pussy. She was wet for me already, so wet that my jaw flexed from the feel of her, but the lube made every stroke slicker. Her body responded immediately, hips rolling into my palm before she seemed to realize she had moved.

I eased one finger back into her, slower than before, and she took it better this time. Still fluttering around me. But softer now.

“Good girl,” I murmured. “You’re taking that so well.”

Her hands twisted in the sheet. “It feels different with the… with that.”

“The lube?”

She nodded, embarrassed by the word for no reason I understood and every reason her upbringing probably did.