When she gave him her love [M23/F20] [emotional sex][creampie][intimacy]

He stirred before the sun was fully up. The air was still and quiet, heavy with the warmth of tangled sheets and shared body heat. His eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the soft morning light slipping through the blinds. And there she was—curled beside him, hair slightly messy, chest rising and falling with the rhythm of deep, peaceful sleep.

  She looked... different this way. Softer. Calmer. She wasn’t tense. She wasn’t turned away from him. Her body—naked, vulnerable, open—was still pressed lightly against his. He didn’t move. He didn’t dare breathe too deeply, afraid to break whatever spell had been cast overnight.

  For the first time in what felt like forever, there was no distance. No wall. No invisible barrier pushing him away every time he got too close. The girl who used to flinch at the brush of his fingers was now lying skin to skin with him, her legs tucked close to his, her arm resting where his heartbeat pulsed steadily beneath his chest.

  He didn’t know what time it was. Didn’t care. He just wanted to stay in that moment a little longer—memorizing how she looked when she wasn’t hiding from him. When she wasn’t afraid of his touch. When her whole body said: I trust you.

  His mind wandered, not to sex, but to safety. To peace. Her face held none of the pain he saw when she was awake. Just softness. Just ease. It was enough to make his throat tighten.

  Her eyelashes fluttered. A small shift. She blinked, slow and drowsy, and found him watching her. She didn’t tense. She didn’t roll away. She just blinked again—and gave him a look that wasn’t quite a smile, but wasn’t distant either.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked, voice low and warm.

  She let out the softest breath.

“No.”

  And then—she kissed him.

  Not urgently. Not hungrily. Just... deliberately. Like she wanted to kiss him. Like she had thought about doing it and decided now was the time. Her lips were soft, dry from sleep, but full of meaning.

  His hand slid gently along her waist, testing. She didn’t flinch. Her skin was warm under his fingertips, and she didn’t pull away. She stayed close. Let him touch her. Let him see her.

  They shifted a little closer. Her thigh brushed his. Her breath tickled his cheek. And then she felt it—his morning wood pressing lightly against her stomach.

  She froze for only a heartbeat, just long enough to register the sensation. Then her body relaxed again, but her expression said it all. Her breath caught. Her eyes shifted. She wasn’t surprised... but she was definitely affected.

“Already moaning, huh?” he whispered, lips brushing her ear.

“All I did was move.”

  Then he smirked, lips dragging down the side of her neck, and murmured,

“You dirty little slut.”

  She didn’t protest. Didn’t recoil. Just let out the faintest sound—somewhere between a gasp and a whimper—and nestled closer, like she didn’t want him to stop.

  He rolled on top of her—slow, deliberate. Not with hunger, but with weight. With meaning. His arms wrapped around her waist, and she let him. Not just let—she welcomed it. Her legs shifted to make space for his body to settle between hers, thighs parting slightly as if her body already knew what her mouth hadn’t said yet.

  Their mouths met again. This time deeper. Longer. Slower. There was no fumbling. No hesitation. Just lips pressing and parting, the kind of kiss that said I’ve missed you, even though they’d never truly had this before. Her hands found his shoulders, and then his back, fingers dragging slowly along the tight, sculpted muscle beneath his skin.

  The tension between them built like heat in the chest of a fire—slow, steady, inevitable. His kiss moved to her neck, his breath hot against her skin. He kissed just below her jaw, then lower, where her pulse beat hard and fast. She tilted her head back for him. Gave him access. Her face turned toward the ceiling with closed eyes and parted lips, like she was trying to remember the last time she felt this alive.

  Then the bite. Gentle. Testing. His teeth grazed her neck, then nipped. Her fingers tightened on his back, not in pain, but in response. Her breath hitched again, a quiet whimper escaping before she could stop it.

“I want you so bad right now, Daddy.”

  The words hung in the air like a spark above dry wood. He exhaled slowly against her throat and whispered back,

“I know you do, my dirty little slut.”

  She melted under him. There was no hesitation now, only the rush of need that had been waiting just beneath the surface.

  They kissed harder, more urgently. His hands slid down her sides, then under her thighs. Her breath grew quicker. Her back arched slightly. He pinned her wrists gently to the bed for just a second—not to restrain, but to remind her she could always take control if she wanted to. She didn’t. She pulled her wrists free only so she could wrap her arms around his shoulders and drag him back down to her mouth.

  His hips shifted forward, cock rubbing slow against her entrance. The heat between them was undeniable, the slick tension electric. Her body gave a little shiver—a look flashed across her face: she knew she was ready. She’d never been more sure.

  He kept the pressure just shy of entering, grinding slightly, letting her feel every inch of him without giving her the full thing. She moaned into his mouth, legs curling tighter around his waist.

  His hands moved to cradle her face as he kissed her harder, tongue sliding against hers, while his cock dragged slowly against her clit. Her whole body bucked forward. Her breath was coming faster, more ragged.

“Please,” she whimpered into his mouth,

“I need it. I need to feel you inside me.”

  His response wasn’t verbal. He just kissed her again—rougher now. His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady, as he lined himself up perfectly against her soaked entrance. He didn’t push in yet. He waited—just long enough to watch her squirm beneath him, gasping, desperate, moaning for what she now knew she could have.

“Say it again.”

  She locked eyes with him, voice shaking but full of fire.

“I want your cock. Inside me. Now.”

  She was soaked—so wet it coated him, glistening along his shaft, hot and inviting. He felt her hips tilt up instinctively, silently begging him to enter. He didn’t hesitate this time. With one steady thrust, he pushed the tip of his cock into her tight, slick heat. Her body stiffened beneath him, a choked gasp catching in her throat.

  He watched her face—watched her eyes go wide, her mouth fall open. Her expression said everything: she wasn’t just surprised by the stretch, she was overwhelmed by it.

  He didn’t stop. He eased in slowly, savoring every second, letting her feel every inch as her walls clenched around him. When he was fully inside her, buried to the hilt, he paused. Not out of hesitation—but reverence. The way she wrapped around him felt like home.

  Her arms wrapped around his back, legs crossing behind his hips, anchoring him to her. Her moans started soft—barely audible sounds at first—but they rose with each breath, each twitch of his hips.

“Fuck…” she whispered, voice trembling, breathless.

  He moved. Slow, deep thrusts, pulling almost all the way out, then sliding back in with firm, deliberate pressure. The friction was perfect. The heat unbearable. Her fingers dragged down his back, nails leaving faint trails that only drove him harder.

  They kissed like they couldn’t get enough of each other, mouths clashing between gasps. His lips moved to her neck again, trailing kisses up to her ear, while his pace began to quicken.

  Then her body shifted beneath him. Her breath caught. Her hands grabbed the sheets. And then she broke.

  Her orgasm hit like a wave—hard and sudden. She cried out, hips bucking, thighs trembling uncontrollably around his waist. Her whole body locked tight, muscles clenching around him in rhythmic spasms.

  He stayed deep inside her, letting her ride it out, but then it happened—

  Her climax was so strong, so overwhelming, that it forced him out.

  His cock slipped free as her back arched violently, her moans turning into near-sobs of pleasure. She was shaking, panting, her chest heaving as her hands clawed at the sheets.

  Her face turned toward the pillow, mouth open, eyes wide and unblinking—like she couldn’t believe what her body was doing.

  He backed off slightly, stunned, watching her try to recover.

  He moved beside her, brushing a hand gently down her thigh. She twitched under his touch. Still sensitive. Still pulsing. Her body hadn't stopped trembling.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

  She let out a breathless laugh, eyes fluttering closed.

“I... I don’t even know what that was.”

  He smiled, pulling her into his arms, his cock still hard and pressed against her stomach. She was limp in his embrace, flushed and shining with sweat, but smiling now—smiling like she had just touched something sacred.

  And she had. So had he.

  She lay sprawled out across the sheets, hair tangled, chest rising and falling in uneven gasps. Her legs twitched now and then, soft aftershocks still rippling through her muscles. Her skin glistened with sweat, her body slack—but her eyes, when they opened and found his, were wide and alive.

  He lay beside her, propped up on one elbow, watching every subtle movement. He didn’t touch her. Not yet. He knew her body had been pushed to its edge. She needed a moment. But damn, he wanted her. Not for the sex—he had just felt her unravel beneath him like she was made of light—but for everything else. Her, in this moment. Her, fully present.

  Finally, he reached out and brushed a knuckle down the length of her jaw, letting his hand trail lightly to her shoulder.

“Do we need to stop?” he asked, voice low and reverent.

  Her eyes drifted toward him, half-lidded. She looked like she was floating in some space between exhaustion and bliss.

“No…” she breathed,

“We don’t need to stop. But I need a minute. Or else I think I’ll cum from just one thrust.”

  That made him chuckle quietly, and he leaned in to kiss her cheek.

“That’s alright, baby.”

  He rolled closer, pressing his body gently against hers. His cock, still hard, slid easily between her thighs, the slick heat between them more than enough to keep him aching.

  She shuddered when she felt him there. His hand came to rest on her stomach, then slipped lower, brushing across her mound before circling her clit with his tip. He didn’t thrust. Just moved in slow, gliding motions, teasing.

  Her whole body twitched again. Her breath hitched. Her hands gripped the sheets as her hips bucked forward.

“Oh my God—” she gasped.

  Another orgasm hit her. Smaller, less violent, but sharp and pulsing. Her thighs clenched together, trapping him in place. Her eyes clenched shut. Her face twisted with a soft, shocked expression—like she couldn’t believe she was still cumming.

  He leaned over her and kissed her deeply, swallowing her moans. His hands moved with care, smoothing over her waist, up to her ribs, then down again, tracing every inch like he was memorizing her all over again.

  When her body finally stilled, she let out a long, trembling exhale.

  He pulled back just enough to look at her, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.

“You’re unbelievable,” he murmured.

“You’re mine.”

  She nodded slowly, a lazy smile spreading across her lips.

“I’ve always been yours.”

  Then she pulled him down again, wrapping her arms around his neck, and they kissed—slow, warm, and lingering. Their bodies still slick with sweat, hearts pounding in time, lips brushing and parting like the worst of the storm had passed, and now all that remained was the calm.

  He stayed nestled against her, their legs tangled, her fingers softly tracing circles along his spine. Her breathing had slowed, but her body was still buzzing beneath the surface. There was a new weight behind her gaze now—not just lust or need, but certainty.

  She looked at him like she’d made peace with something. Like she’d finally stepped into her own skin. He felt it too. The quiet shift. The unspoken we’re not the same people we were an hour ago.

  He leaned in, brushing his lips down her neck again, taking his time. Her pulse was still racing under the skin. She tilted her head slightly, giving him more access. He kissed lower, then nipped, then sucked just enough to make her gasp.

“I’m not pulling out,” he whispered, voice hot in her ear,

“until I fill your pussy with my cum.”

  Her eyes fluttered open. Her breath caught. And then—she smiled. A real smile. Not shy. Not nervous. But full. Full of surrender. Full of power.

“Yes please, Daddy,” she whispered back.

  Her voice cracked just slightly on the last word. And it made his cock throb against her thigh.

  She rolled beneath him, parting her legs again, this time with no hesitation. He positioned himself between them, his hands sliding under her thighs to lift her hips. Her slickness welcomed him instantly, and with one slow push, he was back inside.

  This time it wasn’t about the build-up. It was about connection.

  He moved slowly, hips rolling, each thrust deep and fluid. Their eyes stayed locked. She bit her lip, fingers curling around the sheets, then reaching for his face.

  She pulled him in for a kiss and moaned into his mouth. He kept the pace steady, groaning softly with each squeeze of her walls. Her moans grew louder again, high and trembling. Her legs wrapped tightly around his back, heels digging into him to pull him deeper.

  She broke the kiss with a gasp, eyes wide and desperate.

“Don’t stop,” she begged.

  He didn’t. He couldn’t.

  He picked up the rhythm slightly, fucking her with long, smooth strokes. Their skin slapped softly with each movement, her slick heat making everything effortless.

  His lips returned to her neck, kissing, biting, breathing her in.

  Her face turned toward the pillow again, brows drawn, lips parted, eyes squeezed shut—she was trying not to cry, not because of pain, but because of how good it felt. Because she’d never felt this close to anyone before.

  Her body trembled beneath him. She grabbed at his back, his arms, anything to anchor herself.

“I’m gonna cum again,” she gasped.

“Cum for me,” he groaned,

“Let me feel it.”

  And she did. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, eyes wide, body locking around him again as she came with him buried deep inside her. Her orgasm hit so hard she couldn’t breathe. Her muscles clenched so tight it almost made him lose control.

  He gritted his teeth, fighting it—waiting.

  And then her arms pulled him closer, her lips against his ear.

“Please... cum inside me. I want to feel you.”

  He let go.

  With one final thrust, he buried himself completely and groaned deep in his chest as he filled her. Her body welcomed it, clenching tighter around him as the warmth spread inside.

  She gasped again—softer this time—as if her body recognized it, accepted it. Her face turned upward, flushed and damp, eyes wide in wonder—like she couldn’t believe what she was feeling.

  He collapsed gently beside her, chest heaving, arms sliding under her back to pull her in close.

“I love you,” he whispered against her forehead.

  She didn’t hesitate this time.

“I love you too. I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel loved until now.”

  Then she kissed him—tenderly, again and again. And finally, she let the tears fall. No breakdown. Just release.

  They lay there tangled together, his arms wrapped protectively around her as if letting go would undo everything they’d just reclaimed. Her cheek rested against his chest, and her fingers traced light patterns over the faint rise and fall of his breath. Outside, the light was starting to shift—morning was creeping in, the kind of quiet golden hour that made everything feel sacred.

  Neither of them said anything for a long time. There were no words left to explain what had just happened between them, and for once, there didn’t need to be. The silence wasn’t empty—it was full. Full of warmth, of contact, of mutual understanding without having to speak it out loud.

  He kissed the top of her head. Not as a question. Not to start anything. Just a thank you.

  Her arms tightened around him. She buried her face deeper into his chest, and he felt it—warmth against his skin. Wetness. She was crying.

  He pulled back just enough to look down at her. She tried to turn her face away, but he gently took her chin and guided her eyes back to his.

“Hey… hey, look at me.”

  Her eyes were glassy, cheeks damp. She tried to speak but the words caught. He waited. Patient.

“I don’t know why I’m crying,” she whispered.

“Because you’re safe now,” he said softly.

  She stared at him, and her expression broke wide open. The wall she’d built—one brick at a time, for years—cracked clean down the middle. And everything came spilling out.

  Her shoulders shook. Her face crumpled. She sobbed. Not loud, not dramatic. Just... raw.

  Her mouth opened, face twisted in a helpless expression, like the emotion had broken loose before she even knew it was coming.

  He pulled her into him, cupping the back of her head and whispering into her hair.

“I’ve got you. Let it out. I’ve got you.”

  She cried harder. The kind of crying that made her whole body tremble. And he held her through every second of it. Every ragged breath, every shaking inhale. He didn’t try to fix it. Didn’t tell her to stop. He just held her like she was the most fragile thing in the world—and the most important.

  When the worst of it passed, she lifted her head slightly, eyes still glistening, and looked at him through the haze of her tears.

“I love you,” she choked out.

“So much.”

  He brushed her hair back and kissed her softly, once on the lips, then her forehead.

“I love you too, baby.”

  She tucked herself tighter against him and closed her eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull her down. Her tears stopped, but her grip on him didn’t loosen. If anything, it got stronger—as if she was afraid she’d disappear if she let go.

  Minutes passed like that.

  Then her breathing evened. Her body softened. And finally, her grip loosened—not out of fear, but trust.

  She fell asleep in his arms, tear-stained and bare, but no longer guarded. And he held her as she drifted off, his own eyes closing slowly.

  For the first time in a long time, he felt at peace.