Val kissed Yara again, slower now, coaxing her down as he settled between her thighs, guiding himself to her entrance.
"You sure?" Val asked, suddenly turning serious. His voice a threadbare whisper.
Yara met his eyes. "I've never been more sure."
And then Val was inside her.
Or—trying to be.
Yara gasped, her entire body going taut as the thick head of him pushed against her entrance, the stretch already overwhelming.
She was slick, more than ready, but gods, he was big. Her fingers clawed at Val's shoulders as her hips shifted instinctively, trying to accommodate him, but the first inch burned.
Val froze.
His jaw clenched tight, breath trembling as he fought every instinct telling him to bury himself to the hilt. Her heat gripped him like a fist, velvet and molten, clenching around just the tip of him.
"Yara," he groaned—his voice unrecognizable, strained and raw. "You have to breathe. You'll break me if you keep doing that."
