The sensation makes my breath catch, my hips jerking toward him involuntarily.
"Easy, jungle flower." His voice is wrecked, barely holding together. "Let me feel how wet you are for me first."
He strokes himself through my seam again, coating his length in my arousal, the head of his cock nudging my clit with each pass. I whimper and reach for his hips, trying to pull him closer, but he resists with a dark chuckle.
"Patience." He notches himself at my entrance but doesn't push forward. Instead, he circles my opening with the thick crown, teasing, taunting, making me ache for the fullness I know is coming. "I want you desperate for me."
"I am." The words come out broken, breathless. "Please, Dante. I need you inside me."
His jaw tightens at the sound of his name on my lips. He uses his free hand to spread me open, his thumb and fingers parting my slick folds so we can both see where his cock kisses my virgin entrance.
"Watch," he commands, his voice dropping to a rasp. "Watch me claim what's mine."
His?
My breath stutters in my chest as I lift my head, my gaze locked on the place where our bodies are about to join. He presses forward, just the tip breaching me, and I gasp at the stretch.
“Oh, yes.” My lashes kiss the top of my cheeks.
"No. Eyes on us, beautiful. Don't look away."
My eyelids flutter open and we both watch as my body begins to accept him, my pink flesh stretching around his thick girth, inch by devastating, deliciously painful inch.
The stretch is intense. Overwhelming. He pushes forward slowly, giving me time to adjust, and when he meets the resistance of my virginity, he pauses.
"Tell me your name." His voice is strained, his body trembling with the effort of holding back. "Tell me, and I'll give you anything you want."
"Ilona," I whisper. The truth spills from me because secrets have no place between our bodies. "My name is Ilona."
After all his patience, all his tenderness, he's earned the secret I withheld downstairs. And somehow, giving him my name while he's poised at the entrance of my body feels more intimate than anything we've done tonight.
"Ilona." He rolls my name over his tongue like he's tasting it. "Beautiful Ilona."
"And yours?" I trace my fingers along his jaw as he leans forward to place a tender kiss over my lips. "Your real name this time. I want to know who I'm giving myself to."
His dark eyes hold mine, and that hesitation flickers through them again, so brief I almost miss it. Then his lips curve into that devastating smile, equal parts sin and charm.
"I already told you, jungle flower." He brushes his mouth against mine, the words a warm whisper between us. "Dante. And I plan on having you scream it before the night is through."
Then he thrusts forward, and the world splits apart.
A burst of white pain flares bright and sharp behind my eyelids and then zips through every muscle in my body, curling my toes. It steals my breath, but his mouth finds mine and swallows my cry. He holds perfectly still, buried to the hilt inside me, his forehead pressed to mine.
"Breathe, jungle flower. The pain will pass. Just breathe."
I cling to him, nails digging into his shoulders, and I breathe. Slowly, impossibly, the pain recedes, replaced by a fullness that borders on overwhelming.
"It's like you were made for me," he whispers against my lips, the words so quiet I almost don't catch them.
But I do. And they ignite a burning need in my chest that has nothing to do with sex.
"Maybe I was," I whisper back.
Surprise flickers in his eyes, quickly replaced by a tenderness that makes my heart ache.
Then he begins to move.
Long, slow strokes at first, letting my body adjust, letting the pleasure build. With each thrust, the fullness becomes sweeter, the stretch more exquisite. He angles his hips, and suddenly he's hitting a spot inside me that makes stars explode behind my eyes.