Run To You

pain.
    His hands slid to her back and he pulled her against his bare chest. His arms shook and he buried his face in the crook of her neck. “Stella.” He exhaled and sucked in oxygen like he found it difficult to breathe. “Stella. What have you done?”
    She’d given him her heart and soul and body and she wasn’t sorry. But . . . her own pleasure was quickly being replaced by the tender pinch and her own awkwardness. It had to get better at some point. It had to feel good or people wouldn’t do it. “Does it usually feel like this?”
    “No.” His lips brushed the side of her throat. “Never this good.”
    “I don’t really know what to do now,” she confessed.
    “I do.” With her still clutched against his chest, he changed positions until she lay on her back on the couch with him above her. “Am I hurting you?” He lightly pressed his forehead into hers. “You’re tight. I don’t want to hurt you, Boots.”
    Instead of answering, she kissed him and wrapped her legs around his waist. Slowly, he pulled out, then pushed deep inside. The bulbous head of his penis rubbed her slick vaginal walls and awakened a different passion than she’d ever felt before. It built deep inside and got hotter with each long stroke. A deep groan tore from his chest and wrapped around her heart. She was a novice but a fast learner and matched his rhythm of pleasure.
    His harsh, warm breath brushed her face as he drove into her faster, deeper, more intense. Pushing into her. Pushing her toward climax. Coaxing a cry from her lungs and a confession from her heart. “I love you, Beau. Oh my God, I love you. Don’t stop.”
    “No stopping now. You feel good. So good,” he said through a groan as he thrust into her faster, higher, and hotter. “So soft and slick and so fucking good.” He drove his hard penis into her over and over until she hit a peak more intense than she’d ever felt before. Scalding heat constricted her inner muscles and spread fire outward across her body. He held her face in his hands as he plunged deeper. Her climax spread, hotter, burning more intense.
    “Come for me, Stella.” His body surrounded hers, covering her in warmth and pleasure, and as always, she felt protected. “You’re beautiful.”
    Her toes inside her boots curled and she cried out at the new and exquisite pleasure of him deep inside her. The pleasure of giving herself to the man she loved.
    The muscles in his arms and chest turned to stone. His breath whooshed from his lungs and he swore like a Marine. In and out, a smooth pump of his hips until his breathing finally slowed and he stopped. He dropped his face into her neck and asked, “Did I hurt you?”
    “No.” She did feel a bit raw, but so content she didn’t care. “Are you okay?”
    “I’m better than okay. I love watching your eyes when you come.” He kissed her nose. “That was so good, Stella.”
    It was better than good. There just weren’t words to describe how good it felt to be with him. Like this. She was twenty-eight. She’d been a grown woman for a long time. She didn’t need a man to make her a woman, but Beau made her feel complete. Gave her something she’d never known before. “Can we do that some more?”
    “Are you sure you’re up to it?”
    “Oh yeah.”
    “Then we’re going to do that all night long.”
    And they did, stopping around midnight to take a shower, and he made dinner of frozen pizza and cheese sticks they found in the freezer.
    “How was your first time?” he asked, but the cocky, knowing grin twisting his mouth told her he knew the answer.
    “Better than . . .” She thought a moment of all the possibilities that she could compare it to: sparklers and infernos and warm fluffy clouds. Of all the possibilities he would understand. “Better than flashbang.”
    “Better?” He chuckled. “It’s damn near impossible to top a good flashbang.”
    She smiled. “Yet somehow you managed.” Which wasn’t surprising. Beau was good at most things. Perfect. “Your flashbang is wonderful.” There was one thing that could have made last night perfect: if he told her he loved her. He had to love her, she told herself as he took her hand and took her back to bed. She could not feel so overwhelmed, so overpowered by her love for Beau and him feel nothing. It was too big to be felt by her alone.
    He had to love her. She felt it in the way he looked at her and kissed the side of her neck. The way he touched her was