Unlikely by Sylvie Fox

she said, trailing off.
    Ryan laughed. He propped up on an elbow staring down at her. “In negotiation there’s something called not talking after the close.” He smoothed his hand along her collarbone, down her thin arm, and captured her small hand in his. “I’m here because I want to be here and I’m very attracted to you. You are not going to be able to talk me out of wanting you, Sophie. I’ve been thinking about this far too long for that to happen.”
    When his head came closer she felt her body vibrate, waiting for one of those bone melting kisses, but was taken aback when he kissed her breasts, his lips teasing everywhere with little butterfly kisses before taking one dusky nipple then the other deep into his warm mouth. When she thought she would not be able to take any more, Ryan’s fingers smoothed over her slightly convex stomach and parted her nether lips below. He slowly stroked her clit already slick with her arousal. It went on like that, Ryan alternating between lavishing attention on both breasts and sipping at her lips as if she were the finest champagne.
    Her arms felt like dead fish at her sides. It was times like this her inexperience showed. Should she touch him—touch him there—where men most craved? Unsure, she tentatively stroked his hair again, the curve of his jaw, retracing ground that was now becoming familiar. She skated her hand down his arm, marveling at the springy hairs that gently tickled the pads of her fingers. More uncertain than ever, she stroked his hip.
    Only when he paused in his own ministrations, expectant, did she touch the soft skin of his erection. It jumped of its own accord, seeming to enjoy the tactile stimulation. Emboldened, if only slightly, she traced the contours of his penis with her fingertips. It was like smooth velvet over hardened steel. Ryan pulled her away from his organ and grasped her hand and intertwined their fingers. “Can we …are you ready?”
    Sophie nodded, still mute. Ryan found the condom under her head and sheathed himself. He rose over her, bracing his forearms on both sides of her head and kissed her deeply, easing her legs apart with one knee. He made sure she was ready for him and guided himself toward her center. She gasped, tensing when he was only in halfway.
     
     
    Sophie’s body gripped him like a fist. He didn’t know if he would be able to last long like this. He liked to pride himself on making it a good experience for the woman he was with, and didn’t want his first time—or any time—with Sophie to be a quick wham bam. He tried to slow his breathing. “You okay?” he asked when he regained the ability to speak.
    “I’m okay,” she let out with a hiss, releasing the breath she had been holding. “I just need you to go slow.”
    Ryan pulled out almost the entire way. Then, holding himself as steady as possible, he eased his cock back in and out several times very slowly, a little farther each time, until he’d buried himself up to the root. He blew out a breath, closed his eyes, and turned his head. Ryan tried to think about baseball, politics, or anything that wouldn’t excite him. He didn’t want to slam into her as if he was a piston rod that could not stop.
    When he was back under control again, he began to move slowly, insinuating his hand between them and caressing the small nubbin that he knew would bring her pleasure. Whether it was two minutes or twenty, he couldn’t say, but while Sophie’s breathing quickened and her nipples were hard, he didn’t think she was any closer to an orgasm than she had been minutes ago. He strongly believed in “ladies first,” but knew he could not endure the mind-bending pleasure of being inside her much longer.
    “Sophie.” He paused mid stroke, looking down at her closed eyes. Her serene face revealed nothing. “I can’t hold out much longer.” It had been a long time for him and his body was ready to go no matter what his brain wanted or she needed. “Oh,