He’d gone slow with her... at first, anyway. He’d been cool, calm as he slipped her already unclipped bra off her shoulders, his hands lingering there, stroking her now bare skin, as she began to remove her pants, fumbling with the buttons and zip as she did so. His own hands moved away from her breasts, almost reluctantly, taking off his slacks with far more ease, and far less speed, than she did; by the time she was completely naked, he was only in a shirt, a garment he took off a little more urgently as she lay down on the mattress, eyes closed as her breathing became harsh with slight fear rather than excitement. Her legs clenched together as he moved over her, running a hand up her thigh as he exhaled, his moist breath heating her sweat as she squirmed underneath him, as he propped himself above her, pressing a hand into the mattress above her shoulder.
“You’re... You’re going to have to open your legs.” He could feel her muscles tense as she slowly spread her thighs, letting his fingers circle her center, his lips stretching at the sound of her desperate gasps, her whimpers of his name as he stroked her clit.
“You like that? That feel good?” he breathed, delicately closing his finger and thumb over her swollen flesh to nods accompanying her moans of need. Still grinning, he slipped his fingers away from her burning nerves, slowly entering her to her soft cries, her arms wrapping around him as he broke through her.
“Oh, god... GOD...”
“You... fuck... That hurt? That feel good? You want more?”
“No... This... This is good... Oh God...” The feel of him inside her already felt too much at too little notice, her eyes squeezing shut as he thrust ever so slightly, apparently trying not to deepen himself in her. After this, it’s ‘fantastic’? I can... God... I can see why I held off for so long. Whores like this?
It almost drove him to insanity, the sensation of her drenched flesh tight against his organ, the sound of her soft, sharp sounds, whimpers rather than moans, as he lightly jerked his hips. He would have gone further in, pushed into her until she possessed every inch of him, but for the sliver of control he still had, that small part of his brain that seemed to conquer the majority telling him to ram all of him inside her, to hell with the fact that she’d never done it before. He gently pressed his lips against her own, almost stifling her cries, pulling away to look at that expression, that odd mix of pleasure and discomfort.
“Peter... God... Strahm... Don’t stop...” That breathless gasp, her black hair spread against the mattress, a raven-dark halo around her face, the way she’d gently bucked her hips upward... all of those factors... put together in that one moment... Any control a section of his mind once had vanished, buried under the wave of his libido. His hips slammed into hers, his groans increasing as he felt his entire length inside of her, his moans almost drowning out her screams.
She writhed from the pain of his repeated grinding into her, his cock digging into her depths without mercy, without some form of rest or preparation. She could feel water bead up in her eyes, rolling down her face as his pelvis continued to crush hers, as she felt her screams run out and transform into mere dog-like choking on her breath, as he continued to fuck her seemingly without end.
A final roar as he peaked, while she worked up the breath enough to wail as he gave one final, hard shove into her. She could hardly feel the sensation of his come, rushing through him and into her, rather focusing on the ache within her, the pain that seemed to remain even after he pulled out, rolled next to her, panting.
“God... Angelina... Fuck, that... I... You’re... For a virgin, you’re a good fuck.” He looked back at her, noticing for the first time the tears that she’d been producing; he’d vaguely heard her screams, seen her face screwed up in agony, but, in all honesty... he was only half-within reality. He extended a hand to her, brushing her hair out of her eyes to better see her face, while she sat up, wrapping her arms around her legs as she sobbed.
“Angel? Shit... Was it... I’m sorry?”
“God...” She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t look at the spots of blood staining the sheets, the mark of losing a part of herself, could only look at her knees as the tears continued to flow down her face.
“Please... Angie, if... I... What’s wrong?”
“It- It hurt. It hurt.” She whispered it as he moved closer to her, wrapping her in a softer, gentler embrace than she would have thought, given how hard he’d gone with her. To whispers of ‘I’m so sorry’, to the sensation of the wet, dark red spots of blood on the sheets under her, to the feel of his breath drying her tears, she was able to ignore the pain, lapse into a coma-like version of sleep.
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