He entered me slowly, for an inch, maybe two. Heated, hard flesh pressing into me, pushing,
opening me oh-so- slowly.
“Fuck, you’re tight.”
I was so tight, and he was so big… but it was pressure and not pain, and my insides clenched
with need. I pulled him to me and practically vibrated as I buried my face in his neck and told
him, “I’m okay. You don’t have to take it easy. I’m good.” God, I needed him to fill me. I knew
what this man was capable of, and I’d missed it.
Sex with Darnell might be slow and easy the fourth time, but he was never capable of it the
first couple of times. Now, he looked me in the eyes, breathed in, and held eye contact as he
slammed into me. I yelped, moaned, and wrapped my legs around him to give him a better angle.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” his voice was gravelly and I knew the wolf wasn’t far below the
surface. “Missed a piece of me. Missed my fucking heart.”
Tears came to my eyes again, but not sadness this time. I was overwhelmed with emotion —
some of it sad — for the years I’d lost and the pain I’d created — but more of it was happy. I’d
been missing pieces of me, too.