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I swallow at the feel of him, hard and thick and hot along my bare skin. Just from feel alone his size is intimidating but it doesn’t stop me from reaching down with my hand, to cup his girth in my palm.

He moans at my touch, a throaty primal sound that shakes his whole body.

“Ada.” His lips move along my collarbone, his breath hard and heavy. “I’m not sure you want me to let go. I don’t think I can be gentle.” He raises up my shirt, exposing my breast before dipping his head. My body arches back, my eyes close, welcoming his mouth on my nipple, hot and wet and exquisite. The pressure between my legs is building, a fire uncontained, begging to be put out.

I don’t want gentle. I want his hands lower.

“Touch me,” I whisper, pushing his hand away from my breast where his tongue is teasing in slow circles. I lead it down the front of my stomach, my abs tightening as his skin brushes against me.

He hesitates before the band of my underwear, maybe having second thoughts. He pulls his head up and stares at me, this wild, barely caged beast in his eyes. I stare right back, wanting him, willing him. I’ve never been so god damn needy before in my life, never thought it was even possible to feel this kind of hunger, to chase my release like an animal after prey.

He shuts his eyes, his mouth finds mine again, our lips and tongues fused together, a rock against flint until we’re sparking into flames. His taste, oh his taste. I could drink him in all day.

Then his fingers slowly slide down into my underwear, long and intimidating in their own right. Hands that seem to know my skin already, that possess an ease with the intimacy.

He sucks in a sharp breath when he finds how wet I am. I don’t even have breath to begin with. My body has become a surprise to me, like it’s finally showing me what it can do, what it wants, needs, craves.

His fingertips are rough and I am silk and he slides one finger slowly, deliberately, over my most sensitive flesh. Now I’m groaning, whimpering, feeling too much, needing too much. I feel myself opening wider as the pressure gets tighter. I grab onto his neck, his shoulder, my legs starting to give way as the blood inside becomes weightless.

He responds by dipping his fingers lower until I feel him inside me, then slowly drags it back out, pressing hard.

I can’t stop it. Can’t hold back.

I explode into his hands and Ada doesn’t exist anymore. I’m boneless, jelly, reduced to a single-celled organism floating in the stars. I know I’m crying out loudly, that Jay is grunting into my neck, finding pleasure in my pleasure, my nails digging into him so hard that I’m sure I’m drawing blood.

I’m still not myself, still not of sound mind, still shooting across galaxies when he grunts “Fuck” and then picks me up, throwing me onto the bed.

I lie there, dazed, sated and yet forever insatiable, as he puts his hands at my collar and rips the t-shirt right in half. Totally unnecessary but Jay is no longer here, just like Ada is no longer here. His eyes tell a different story, one of an untamed beast who gets to hunt and eat for the first time in his life.

My underwear is deftly shucked off and I’m lying here on my back, naked and exposed to him for the first time. His eyes rake over my body, taking me in, his nostrils flaring like a bull about to charge.

Yet, somehow he holds back. It’s an effort. His face is flushed, jaw set, his muscles straining as he stands there at the foot of the bed, letting his eyes taste me.

Then he strips.

Shirt gone.

Jeans gone.

Boxer briefs gone.

And then Jay is naked.

I knew he was a chiseled, masculine work of art but I had no idea just how magnificent he was until right now. Every inch of his body is flawless, lightly golden, and cut like a diamond.

And he’s hung.

As in well-well-well-hung.

I’d only felt him minutes ago, but it still takes me by surprise. I don’t think I’ve ever properly leered at a man like this before, let alone a naked one. Dillon had a good body but it was one of a boy and he didn’t wear it with confidence. The glimpses I got of him were quick and hurried, usually blurred by alcohol or clothing.

But not Jay. I see him clearly with hawk eyes that take in every hard inch. Jay is all man and he stands before me not giving two shits that he’s naked. If anything, he wants me to stare, wants a reaction. He’s been so skilled thus far that I keep forgetting that the man is a virgin in the loosest terms and adoration over his body might be exactly what he needs.