
At her breathy invitation, he placed his hand over hers, still clasped around his length. With a sense of purpose that superceded his lack of experience, he pushed his blunt tip into the moist velvet glove between her legs. With another slow buck of his hips against her he slid in a few inches more and his mind exploded at the incredible sensation.
Tight.
Gloriously tight.
Draco groaned her name again when he heard his own leave her lips. His mouth hovered over hers, gauging any change in her breathing as a measure that might temper or speed his invasion of her.
Unsure what to expect, the feel of his hardened flesh pressing against her most intimate place sending her into a frenzy of information. It’s supposed to hurt, she told herself -it’s going to hurt but after that, there’s supposed to be pleasure. And then…and then…
Oh, God.
A flash of pain, a moment of discomfort, a pierce of displeasure shot through her and she bit down on her bottom lip impossibly hard, her eyes screwing shut. Stop, she wanted to cry and run but he’d stilled, almost as if he were waiting for her reaction; besides, there was hardly time to back out now.
Nails dug into flesh, teeth almost drawing blood from her lips, brows knit together and she waited for the pleasure -it was sure to come, right?
“Move,” she demanded, breaths coming out in heaves, not caring how just as long as it would alleviate some of the pain. “Now.”
(Source: her-my-own-nee, via theoneandonly-draco-malfoy)
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