Home > Popular Books > Hopeless (Chestnut Springs, #5)(100)

Hopeless (Chestnut Springs, #5)(100)

Author:Elsie Silver

I’m so caught up in him, in us—he’s all I see.

The muscles in my legs strain as I carefully lower myself onto him.

One inch, his jaw ticks.

Two inches, his eyes go steely.

Three inches—fuck, he’s so thick—his hands shake. Or my body does. I don’t even know anymore where he ends and I begin.

With a whimper, I ease down further, and so do his eyes. He’s gone from watching my face to watching where he’s filling me up.

“Fuck, Bailey.”

I only moan, letting my eyes flutter shut and moving my hands to his round shoulders for support.

“You okay?”

I nod, feeling his hands soften and his thumb rub reassuringly against my stomach.

This is nothing like my toys. It’s tenfold more intense. I’m full in a way I never have before.

“Bailey, baby, you’re doing so good. If you need to stop—”

“I don’t need to stop.” My voice is breathy as I continue to sink down onto him. My body pulses. “I just … god. I feel so full.”

I whimper, letting the bite of his size distract me for a moment. But like always, Beau is right there to reassure me. “You’re almost there, Bailey. You’re so beautiful with my cock inside you. Just go slow.”

I nod and moan as I look down at where we meet, struggling to get the last of his length inside me.

His palms slide over my ribs, shaping down over my ass. “I know, baby, I know.”

Suddenly, I’m struck by an urgency, like this moment might slip through my fingers if I don’t make the most of it. I drop myself all the way down and cry out as I hit the base of him. “Oh god.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. That feels … ”

Fingers grip me, and he’s everywhere. I’m so full of Beau, I’m so—I don’t even know where I am, only that I’m on top of him, he’s inside of me, and I’ve never felt more safe.

I pant, nails digging into his pecs.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, voice all raspy and low.

I shake my head no.

“Bailey, talk to me.”

My eyes snap open to meet his silver gaze. “It’s just intense. It feels so different.”

He nods, smoothing his calloused palms over my back, the tops of my thighs. “I’m following your lead. Tell me what you need.”

“I … ” My vision goes a little blurry. “I need you to move or something.”

He tips his chin up. “You first. Lift and come down again. Get a feel for it.” His hands swoop up my stomach, palming my breasts almost reverently. His eyes, such an unusual color, glow metallic. They’re hard not to get lost in. “You can’t do a single thing wrong. Just do what feels good.”

“What about you?”

One side of his mouth tugs up, an almost pained expression gracing his handsome face. “Trust me, baby. It all feels good with you.”

My teeth sink into my bottom lip, and I flush at his praise. Then, with my hands on his chest, I lift up, feeling in every inch of him as I do.

The outstroke sends a jolt of delicious spasms through my body. At the top, pushed up on my knees, I look down, wanting to watch every inch of him disappear into my body. As I sink down on him, I can’t look away. It’s so foreign. So fucking hot.

I do it again. And again. Every stroke is less foreign than the last, more pleasurable than the last. His hands roam, always soothing. Slow and steady. I’m unable to tear my gaze from where Beau and I are joined. Like it’s some sort of experiment and I’m completely fascinated.

“See how pretty you look taking my cock, Bailey?”

“Yeah,” I murmur absently, because it’s hard to disagree with him. There’s something entrancing about the sight.

Beau moves a hand between us, tracing his thumb over the tight grip of my pussy lips around his girth. He spreads my wetness up, swiping it over my clit as I continue my slow ride.

Oh.

My eyes widen as he makes gentle circles.

“You like that, don’t you?”

I nod, struck speechless. I don’t just like it, I—

“Let me hear it, Bailey. Use your words.”

“I love it.”

He smirks, confident and playful all of a sudden. “I told you I’d make it good for you.”

Good? This is so much more than good.

He plays with my clit again and rolls my nipple between his fingers, forcing me to cry out. A surge of wetness coats us as my hips move in a way I never knew they could. I rise and drop more heavily, hips rotating as my muscles relax into the motion. And true to his word, Beau lets me get a feel for it—for him.