We both hissed a breath then, and I pulled my hand back, searching his eyes as he hovered over that spot.

His green irises flared, pupils dilating a bit as they flicked between mine. “Please tell me if it hurts.”

I nodded, and Clay took a long, deep breath, his eyes staying locked on mine.

And he pushed.

The tip of him slipped inside me, making my lips part and my breath catch. He withdrew it again, only to slide it in deeper, up to his first knuckle this time.

Slowly, again and again, he withdrew and pushed until I stretched bit by bit for him and let him inside. When he finally pressed all the way in, pushing that thick middle finger inside me and curling into a spot that made me see stars, I cried out his name.

It did hurt. But then again, it didn’t. It was like picking at a scab, painful but satisfying, and I only wanted more.

My hands found his hair, guiding his mouth down to mine. I needed to kiss him. I needed to feel him encompassing every inch of me.

He obliged.

That torturous tongue of his slipped inside my mouth, a long swipe of it timed just right with his finger gliding inside me and curling again. This time, he left it there, deep inside me, and wiggled it.

“Oh, God,” I breathed into his mouth. “I… what is…”

My next gasp for air stole the words, and Clay held me tighter to him as he withdrew and slipped inside me again. This time it felt like… more. Full. I was full, and stretched, that bit of pain battling with the pleasure until pleasure won out and consumed my entire being.

I rocked against his touch, even more so when the heel of his hand pressed against my clit and rubbed it in time with his fingers working inside me. That heat that had been building seared white hot and dangerous, like a literal fire was building from the depths of my core.

“Clay,” I warned, scared of it, of how it built and built and flooded me and… something… something was happening.

“Let go,” he said, capturing his mouth with mine. His fingers worked inside me, pushing and curling, his palm slicking against my sensitive peak.

I shook my head, terrified, but that fear was snuffed out in the next moment by rolling waves of delectation. I whimpered into his mouth, and those little cries turned into moans that grew louder and louder as I shook and writhed and clung to him. It was as if every sense I had was zeroed in on where he touched me, and they all rejoiced at once. I felt and tasted and smelled everything and nothing all at once. A black hole of pleasure — that’s what it was.