His eyes soften, something fierce and protective flashing through them. He brushes his thumb over my cheek. "We'll go slow. You tell me if anything feels wrong, okay? Say stop and we stop."
I nod, swallowing hard.
He kisses me again—slow, deep, unhurried. His tongue strokes mine until the tension in my body starts to melt. When he pulls back, I'm panting.
"Let's get you comfortable." His fingers find the hem of my shirt. He watches my face as he slowly drags it up, giving me every chance to change my mind. I lift my arms, letting him pull it off. Cool air hits my bare breasts and my nipples tighten instantly.
"Beautiful," he breathes, voice husky. He cups one breast, thumb circling the nipple until I gasp. "So perfect."
He kisses a path down my neck, across my collarbone, then lower. When his mouth closes over my nipple, wet and hot, I arch off the bed with a whimper.
"That's my good girl," he murmurs against my skin, the words vibrating through me. "Let me hear you."
Oh god. The soft praise hits me low in my belly, making me clench around nothing.
He takes his time, licking and sucking until both breasts are flushed and sensitive, my breathing ragged. His hand slides down my stomach, slipping under the waistband of my shorts. He cups me through my panties first, feeling how soaked I am.
"Fuck, Fiona. You're dripping for me."
I cover my face with my hands, embarrassed, but he gently pulls them away.
"No hiding. This is mine tonight." He kisses me again as he tugs my shorts and panties down my legs, leaving me completely bare. "All mine."
He stands and strips off his own shirt and sweats. I've seen him shirtless during training earlier, but this is different. His erection strains against his boxer briefs, thick and intimidating. My thighs press together instinctively.
He notices. "We'll go slow," he promises again. He hooks his thumbs in his briefs and pushes them down. His cock springs free—long, heavy, the head already glistening. My eyes widen.
He climbs back over me, settling between my thighs. He kisses me deeply while his fingers slide through my wetness, circling my clit until my hips start moving on their own.
"Feel good?" he asks against my lips.
"Yes... oh?—"
He slides one finger inside me, slow and careful. I'm so wet it goes in easily, but the stretch still makes me tense.
"Relax, baby. That's it. Good girl." The praise makes me moan. He pumps gently, adding a second finger when I'm ready, curling them until I'm gasping and trembling.
When he pulls his fingers free, I'm whimpering with need.
He reaches for the drawer, grabs a condom, and rolls it on. Then he settles over me again, the blunt head of his cock nudging my entrance.
"Look at me," he says softly.
I meet his eyes. They're dark, intense, but tender.
"You set the pace. We can stop anytime."
I nod, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please, Chase. I want you."
He pushes in—slow, steady, watching my face the whole time. The stretch burns, a sharp pinch that makes me gasp and dig my nails into his shoulders.
"Easy... breathe, baby." He holds still, buried halfway, letting me adjust. "Such a good girl taking me so well."
The words melt me. The burn fades into a deep, full feeling. I shift my hips experimentally and a spark of pleasure shoots through me.
"More," I whisper.
He sinks deeper, inch by inch, until he's fully seated. We both groan. He stays still, kissing me softly, stroking my hair, murmuring praises—"So tight... so perfect... my sweet girl"—until the discomfort completely fades.