Chapter 32 Come for Me
Emily's POV
I tried to relax, tried to remember that I'd just come twice and should be ready for this, but my body was tensing up involuntarily. Ethan must have felt it because he shifted his weight to one arm and slid his other hand between us, finding my clit and rubbing gentle circles.
The added stimulation helped, pleasure cutting through the discomfort, and when he pushed forward another inch I gasped but didn't tense up as much. He kept that maddening rhythm on my clit while working himself deeper, inch by careful inch, until finally—finally—he was fully seated inside me.
"Fuck," Ethan breathed, forehead pressed against mine. "You feel incredible. Are you okay?"
I took inventory of the sensations—fullness, stretch, a dull ache that wasn't quite pain but wasn't comfortable either—and nodded. "Yeah. Just—don't move yet."
"Take all the time you need."
We stayed like that for a long moment, both breathing hard, bodies completely joined. His thumb was still circling my clit in slow, steady strokes, and gradually the discomfort faded into something that almost felt good. I experimentally shifted my hips and pleasure sparked through me, making me gasp.
"Okay," I said. "You can move."
Ethan pulled back slowly, almost all the way out, before pushing back in with a controlled thrust that had us both groaning. He set up a careful rhythm, watching my face for any sign of pain, and with each stroke the burn faded further until all that was left was pleasure and fullness and the overwhelming sensation of being completely connected to him.
He shifted his position, hooking my legs over his shoulders, and the new angle drove him impossibly deeper. When he thrust forward this time, his pelvis ground against my clit with each stroke, the friction sending sparks through my entire body.
"Oh God—" I gasped, because it was perfect, the pressure exactly where I needed it.
"Better?" he asked, voice strained with the effort of maintaining control.
"Yes—don't stop—"
Ethan's control started to slip, his rhythm becoming less measured, more urgent. Each thrust drove deep, his body grinding against my clit while I felt the soft weight of his balls pressing against me with every stroke, the fullness overwhelming in the best possible way. The combination of sensations—being completely filled, the pressure on my clit, the intimate touch of every part of him—built into something that felt almost unbearable.
"Right there," I gasped. "Don't stop—"
He adjusted his position slightly and hit something even deeper inside that made me cry out, pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. He did it again, setting up a relentless rhythm that had me climbing toward release with terrifying speed.
"Ethan—I'm—"
"Do it," he gritted out, hips snapping forward harder. "Come for me."
I came with a scream, my whole body convulsing, inner muscles clamping down around him so hard he cursed. He thrust through my orgasm, each stroke sending aftershocks through me, before his rhythm shattered completely and he buried himself deep with a groan that was half my name.
I felt him pulse inside me, cock throbbing as he came, and the sensation triggered another smaller orgasm that left me trembling and gasping. We stayed locked together for a long moment, both of us shaking, before Ethan carefully pulled out and collapsed beside me.
I immediately missed the fullness, the connection, but when he pulled me against his chest and wrapped his arms around me the emptiness didn't feel quite so stark.
"You okay?" he asked after our breathing had slowed.
"Yeah," I managed, though my voice sounded wrecked even to my own ears. I could feel the ache settling in now, a dull soreness between my legs that would definitely be worse tomorrow, but it felt like proof that this had really happened.
We lay there in comfortable silence for a while, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my shoulder, before a thought occurred to me through the post-orgasm haze.
"Are you—" I paused, suddenly uncertain how to ask this. "Have you done this a lot? You seemed to know exactly what to do."
Ethan's hand stilled for a moment. "I've been with a girl before," he admitted. "But it wasn't—we weren't dating or anything. No relationship, just—" He paused, seeming to struggle with how to explain it. "Sometimes I think she didn't really like me, you know? She just wanted to see if the quarterback could give her a good time. And I didn't say no." His voice dropped, tinged with regret. "I'm sorry, I should have saved it for someone who actually mattered. Someone I cared about. Like you."
I felt something soften in my chest at his honesty. "I understand," I said quietly. "And honestly? If it really had been your first time, tonight probably wouldn't have been this good."
Ethan let out a surprised laugh. "Yeah, you're probably right about that. The first girl—she definitely didn't seem satisfied. After a few times she just stopped calling."
I pulled back slightly to look at him, genuinely surprised. "She has no idea what she missed."
His expression turned tender, and he pulled me back against his chest, arms wrapping around me securely. "Maybe the difference is that we actually have feelings for each other," he said softly. "Maybe that's what makes it good."
I pressed my face against his shoulder, letting the truth of that settle into me. He was right. This wasn't just physical—it was everything we'd been building between us, all the trust and care and genuine connection, finally expressed through touch. And that made all the difference.
"It was never like that," Ethan continued, "You were so responsive, every time I tried something you'd react in this way that made me feel like I was doing everything right. It was—God, Emily, you have no idea how good you made me feel."
Heat flooded my face and I buried it against his chest. "I wasn't—I mean, I didn't do anything. You were the one—"
"You did everything," he interrupted gently. "The sounds you made, the way you moved, how you let me see you like that—do you know how incredible that was? You were perfect."
"I thought maybe I was too—" I struggled to find the right word. "Too loud? Or too much? I've never—I don't know what I'm supposed to be like."
Ethan tipped my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. "You were perfect," he repeated firmly. "Not too anything. Just perfect. The fact that you let go like that, that you trusted me enough to just feel it—" He shook his head. "That's the best thing anyone's ever given me."
The sincerity in his voice made my throat tight, and I pressed closer to him, overwhelmed by feelings I didn't have names for. For the first time in my life, I'd been completely vulnerable with someone and it hadn't ended in disaster. I'd let myself want something, feel something, without calculating the cost, and the world hadn't fallen apart.
I pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, then another to his jaw, trying to express through touch what I couldn't put into words—gratitude, wonder, something that felt dangerously close to devotion.
I felt him smile against my hair, his chest rising with a quiet laugh.