Page 86 of All Your Dreams

“Ollie, I—” Her voice catches. “I don't think I can again. It's too much.”

I still my movements but keep my fingers inside her, feeling the flutter of her walls around them. “Your body is capable of so much more than you realize.”

She whimpers, her hips shifting restlessly. “But I've already come twice.”

“And you're going to come for me again and again.”

Her eyes lock with mine, uncertainty flickering there before she nods. Then she reaches for me, pulling me closer as her hips press eagerly into my touch. “Don't stop,” she whispers.

Her pupils are blown wide, her chest rising and falling rapidly. I start moving again, establishing a rhythm that's deliberate and unhurried. Two fingers inside, I angle them upward, searching for her g-spot. When I find it, Peyton's entire body jolts, a sharp cry escaping her lips.

I stroke over it again. “Oh god, Ollie,” she moans my name.

“That’s it. Let me hear you, sweetheart,” I say and feel her clench around my fingers in response. I keep the pressure consistent while my thumb finds her clit, circling it in time with the thrust of my fingers. She's trembling beneath me, caught between the overstimulation and the building pleasure.

“I can't—it's too—fuuuuuck,” Peyton gasps, but her hips still roll against my hand, chasing the sensation even as she protests.

“You can,” I tell her firmly. “Your body knows what it wants, sweetheart.”

I increase the pace, my fingers pumping in and out of her slick pussy. The wet sounds fill the room. Her inner walls are gripping me so tight I can barely move the digits, but I persist, coaxing her body to surrender.

“Look at you,” I murmur, watching her face, spotting sweat forming on her temples. “So responsive and wet for me. You were made for this, weren't you?”

She whimpers again, her head thrashing against the pillow. I can feel the tension building in her body, in the way her thighs start to shake and her breathing becomes more erratic. She's close. So damn close.

“That's my girl,” I encourage, curling my fingers further while increasing the pressure on her clit. “You're going to come all over my fingers, aren't you?”

“Yes, oh god, yes.”

The words tumble out of her, desperate and needy. I lean down, my lips brushing against her ear. “Then come for me, Peyton. Let go. I've got you,” I say and tease her earlobe with a gentle nip.

Her back arches off the bed, her entire body going rigid as the orgasm crashes through her. She cries out my name, her voice breaking on the second syllable, and she clenches around my fingers, pulsing with each wave of pleasure. I work her through it, drawing out every last tremor. I slow my movements gradually, easing her down from the peak with gentle strokes before withdrawing.

When I bring the glistening fingers to my lips and lick them, her eyes darken.

“Perfect,” I tell her, meaning it in every possible way. “You're absolutely perfect.”

Peyton reaches up, her trembling hand finding my jaw. She looks blissfully undone, and even more beautiful because of it. “So are you. God, I loved it when you talked me through it.”

Her words burrow deep beneath my skin. Not because of the praise, though it strokes my ego more than a little, but because of the trust behind them. She let me guide her. Let herself be vulnerable with me. Knowing she trusted me enough to surrender that control is what stays with me.

I tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, my thumb grazing her cheek. “I could get used to seeing that satisfied look on your face.”

“I was hoping you'd say that.”

I pause for the briefest moment, not because I have any doubts, but because I want to remember this version of Peyton forever. The woman beneath me isn't a fantasy I've built up in sleepless nights anymore. She's real and here. I let the truth settle over me, taking her in and feeling the weight of everything that has brought us to this moment. None of it has dulled the hunger I feel for her. If anything, knowing she's real—knowing this is actually happening—only makes the need sharper. I need to feel her wrapped around my cock.

Settling between her thighs, I take my hardened length in hand and position it at her entrance. The first brush of contact draws a sharp exhale from both of us. She’s so warm and inviting that I have to close my eyes for a moment to gather myself and pray I won’t come early.

“Tell me if it's too much,” I say, my voice rough. “At any time, tell me if I need to stop.”

I know enough about her past to understand that no one ever taught her she was allowed to have a voice in moments like this. If tonight gives her anything, I want it to be the certainty that her comfort and every feeling matter just as much as mine. That her yes and no matter.

“I promise,” she replies, her eyes shining.

I lean down and press a kiss to her forehead before brushing my nose against hers. “Thank you for trusting me. That's never something I'll take lightly.”

Not wanting to wait any longer to be fully connected with her, I push forward slowly, giving her body time to adjust to my size. The sensation of Peyton around me is overwhelming, tight and wet heat enveloping me inch by careful inch.