Ella hesitated, chest rising and falling. Her nerves flickered through her, even now—but his voice soothed them like balm. She crawled toward him, straddling his thighs, letting his hands guide her closer.
She could feel him—hot, hard, ready—pressed right against her.
Nicholas smoothed her hair back from her face, gaze flicking over every inch of her like he wanted to memorize this moment.
"You nervous?" he asked softly, his thumbs brushing over her hips.
She nodded once, lips parting. "Yeah."
He kissed her slowly, deeply. "It's just me, Ella," he murmured. "You've got me."
She leaned her forehead against his, both of them catching their breath. He shifted beneath her, the tip of him nudging at her entrance, and she tensed slightly, hands gripping his shoulders.
"Breathe," he whispered, hands steadying her. "We go slow. We go your pace."
Ella exhaled, slowly sinking down.
And the second he was inside her, they both gasped.
