Page 81 of Striking Range

It comes out as a whine as I say, “Let’s get a move on then!”

He rubs some of the lotion over me as well, and then he’s pressed firmly against me once more, my calves resting on his shoulders. I can feel him holding himself level with my hole, the other hand pulling my right asscheek to the side.

Everett takes one deep inhale and begins to sink into me.

And oh fuck, does it hurt. It hurts bad. Three fingers are nothing compared to him, and I can’t speak; I can’t even breathe around the pain until his head pops through that ring of muscle.

As he does, Everett lets out a low groan that accompanies my quiet cry so nicely.

“You’re so tight,” he says, voice strained as his eyes clench shut.

He stays perfectly still; I think he’s trying not to come.

Suddenly I am all too aware that Everett Young is fucking me. That his cock is penetrating me and I’m desperate for it. How did things end up here? How long has he wanted this?

Fuck, this hurts!

“Evie!” It’s a busted cry as it leaves me, and I’m realizing in this moment that I am crying. In real life. “Evie, please.”

Everett’s eyes shoot open, his hands immediately dropping my legs so that he can lean forward to get a better look at me. Only, this is a major miscalculation, because as he does, he sinks an inch further into me.

“Fuck,” he groans, and I’m crying even harder.

It’s almost an ugly cry, a sob. But it’s so much, so much emotion—and it hurts so bad.

“Look at me, Sky,” Everett demands. “What’s happening?”

I hadn’t realized that my eyelids had fallen shut. As I look at him, I see that Everett’s eyes are watery too.

“I…I…” I try and fail to speak.

“I’ll pull out. You’re not ready; this is too much. I should have prepped you better.” He tries to lean back up, but I’m grabbing him by the back of his neck, pulling him back down.

He stumbles, his hand slipping out from under him for a moment, and his dick glides in further.

“Oh, god,” I whimper, holding on as tightly as I can.

“Skylar, please. Let me pull out.”

“No!” I gasp out. He’s staring at me—waiting for an explanation, for direction. “I’m just overwhelmed. I… Yes, it hurts. It really hurts. But that’ll fade; I know it will. But I’m just now realizing that I’m here with you and we’re doing this and—”

“And you’re regretting it,” Everett says with certainty, as if he read my mind and knows that this is a fact.

“And I’m so full of this affection for you that I don’t know where to put it,” I finish.

His mouth falls open, and he says nothing. He watches me cry softly as I adjust to him being halfway inside of me.

Then, with no warning other than the reigniting of the flames in his eyes, he begins to push forward at a steady rate. I’m clenching the back of his neck in a painful hold, desperate to feel grounded.

As Everett bottoms out, his hips tapping against my ass, he releases a gentle sigh.

“Skylar, baby,” he sighs, leaning up to his full height and glancing down at me with barely restrained desire. “Let me know as soon as you’ve adjusted to me. Once you do, I’m going to pound into you so hard you won’t be able to think about anything but me.”

My heart skips a beat. I take in his towering form; I feel him pulse from where he’s completely sheathed inside of me. And oh, wow, he’s completely sheathed inside of me. Everett is… fucking me.

I try to focus on the feeling of him there, but I’m unable to tell if I’ve truly adjusted. Sure, the burning has started to fade into a dull throb, but does that mean I’ve adjusted?

Experimentally, I roll my hips down, attempting to test the friction, and Everett chokes on his own spit.