'Yeah,' I admitted low, my voice shaky.
'Do you want me to stop?'
Hell no! We'd come this far; I wanted all of him, pain and all. 'Nope,' I said softly, shaking my head.
He lifted my chin gently, his thumb brushing away the tear track on my cheek. The touch was so tender it made my chest ache in a good way. 'Tell me when you want to keep going,' he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, all softness now.
I nodded and rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. It calmed me, like a lullaby. His hand stroked my hair, fingers threading through the strands slow and soothing.
He waited patient, not pushing. Minutes dragged on, the sharp sting in my p***y easing into a warm throb. The pain mixed with something new—pleasure starting to bloom, tentative but real.
