Page 112 of Buckin' Around

“Riles, baby, slow. I need to take this so fucking slow,” he rasps.

Torture is apparently his MO.

For someone who takes everything at one hundred miles an hour, I’m fecking desperate for him now that the restraints are gone.

“Fine, but I call the shots on this snail’s pace, cowboy.” I shove him onto his back, and he chuckles.

“Yes ma’am. For now.”

I raise a brow at him, and he reaches up.

My messy bun spills out, hair covering my shoulders and falling over my breasts as the scrunchie slides over his hand to his wrist. “Fucking perfect, Riles. Christ, you are so damn beautiful.”

Sitting up, he captures my face, planting his lips to mine before I can respond. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. This much affection, this much chemistry has never found me before.

Overwhelmed and a little emotional would be the understatement of the century. I breathe through the tightness, hands palming his stomach as he grows larger, harder beneath me.

Clearly, Spencer is not going to fit.

I’m five-foot-nothing and petite. He is over six feet tall and built.

The last and only time I had sex was painful, and he was nowhere near as big as Spencer.

Panic claws at my insides.

My hands curl to fists against his chest.

“Hey,” Spence whispers, “What’s going on, baby?”

“I-I can’t do this?” I stutter.

Blue eyes study my face, his palms on my jaw. “Which part, Riles? The physical or the emotional?”

“The... the first one. Spence, there is no way that is going to fit.”

We both glance down.

Spence chuckles.

“It isnotfunny,” I gasp, jaw dropping.

His forehead meets mine. “Riles, you were fucking made for me. We will take it slow, and I will make sure it feels nothing short of goddamn amazing for you.”

I huff through a wobbly breath.

“F-fine.”

His head retracts a little, gaze homed in on mine. “You can tell me to stop at any time, and I will. I promise you. Do you trust me?”

My chin wobbles.

Fecking, stinking, stupid eejit universe... What the hell was it thinking? Handing me this incredible man, only for me to have to lose him, too.

Nope.

I am not ruining this with my damn baggage.

“I trust you, Spence,” I breathe.