Wasted Words by Staci Hart

She gasped, rolling her hips again as I palmed her, needing her wet, and she was — she was so small, so slight, I didn’t want to hurt her. I never wanted to hurt her.

My finger curled, finding the rough spot inside, grazing it steadily with each flex of my palm until her breath was shallow, eyes pinned shut, and she squeezed around my finger once, just once, enough for me to know she was close.

I moved down her body again, pulling off her panties before lying between her thighs. She looked down at me, and I met her eyes for only a moment before looking back to my hands as I stroked her, parted her, closed my lips over her and sucked. Her hands found my hair again. I licked up the line, sucking again once I reached the top, and she writhed, knees raising and parting to open herself up to me. When I looked up, her head was kicked back, ribs protruding as she sucked in a deep breath.

Her fingers tightened in my hair. I didn’t want her to come yet, not like this. I wanted to be inside of her, wanted to feel her fall apart around me. So I let her go.

She looked down at me, eyes barely open, licking her lips as she leaned up and grabbed me, frantic, pulling me to her to kiss me, licking the taste of herself off my lips, slipping her tongue deep into my mouth, breathing me in.

And I couldn’t wait for her any longer.

I pulled away, both of us panting, reaching for the condom I’d brought as she sat up enough to take off her bra and fling it across the room. She watched me, eyes locked on my hands as I rolled the condom on. Her lips were parted, tongue darting out to wet them, and when she met my eyes again, she looked afraid.

But I smiled knowingly. “I’m not going to hurt you, Cam.”

She nodded as a pain shot through my chest, wondering if she’d hurt me instead. But she’d promised. It was over. She was mine, and now I’d claim her as she’d already claimed me.

I grabbed the bottle labeled Slide, and her face softened with realization of what it was. She took it from my hand and poured a little out, coating her hands before she reached for me.

I sighed at the feeling, her slick, warm hands around my shaft, squeezing and sliding, gripping and flexing. I poured a little out into my palm and slipped my hand between her legs to stroke her. But she didn’t want to wait any more than I did.

She pulled me down to her to kiss me again, and I moved between her legs, settling in, my shaft against the wetness of her. Her hips flexed and rolled against me, shifting and angling, looking for my crown, and I pulled back my hips, dropping between her legs until I rested at her entrance.

She stopped kissing me, her body frozen against me, her eyes finding mine.

Neither of us breathed when I flexed, filling her slowly.

Her eyelashes fluttered and closed with a sigh, chin tilting back.

She was so small, so tight around me, I pulled out slowly, body trembling with want, with need for her as I held on to control with everything I had. I rolled my hips gently, and her head dropped to the side, stretching her neck long, and I kissed the soft skin up to her ear.

I wound my arms around her and I sat, bringing her with me, holding her up, guiding her until her knees were braced on the bed, her arms hanging on my shoulders. She needed to be in control until I knew how much of me she could take, and she seemed to understand, watching me with half-closed eyes as she shifted slowly, relaxing her thighs. Her breath was shallow, her thighs trembling, and my heart thumped against my ribs like it was reaching for her.

“Are you okay?” I muttered, barely able to think, barely able to stop myself from grabbing her hips and dragging her down my length until she hit the end.

She nodded. “So good.” The words were a breath as she sank farther onto me. I squeezed her thighs, trying to hang onto her. I tried to hang on to my breath. I tried to hang on to my heart. But she had all of me.

She flexed her legs and rolled her hips, dragging me in a slow circle inside of her, raising herself up before dropping down again.

I couldn’t take it.

“Cam,” I whispered, dropping my head to her shoulder, body shaking. Her arms cradled my head as she rolled, flexing again, dropping down even more. She was close, so close to taking all of me, and I was close, so close to letting it all go. I needed her, a slow need that burned so hot, I could think of nothing else.

Her hips rolled faster, and I cupped her breast, thumbed her nipple, held her to me as she moved faster still, squeezing me tighter, clenching around me, gasping so deep, it stole my breath. And she came, the force of her body more than I could take. She sank down to the end of me as she pulsed and flexed, her breath shallow as she muttered words of pleasure, and I grabbed her hips, lifting her, pulling her down, filling her, once, twice, until I came, my heart stopping, her name on my lips.

She sank down until there was no space between us, our bodies wound and hooked around each other so that every inch of us touched, from head to toe. My arms were around her small waist, hers around my neck, and she squeezed me tight.

We stayed that way until our hearts slowed, and she lifted her head to look up at me, her eyes full of tenderness. She touched my face and kissed me reverently. And all I could do was think about how perfect the moment was. How perfect she was.

She leaned back, pulling on my neck, and I laid her down before rolling away, separating us, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. But I headed for the bathroom to clean up as my mind began to wander through the night, through my feelings, through her feelings, tallying up what I could control and what I couldn’t.

Cam was tucked under the covers when I came back, facing the empty side of the bed, and I slipped in beside her. She shifted until her body was against mine again, our legs entwined.