Chapter Three: The Unspoken Flame
Ha—ha—
I was breathless. In the heat of our kiss, I had lost track of time. When I finally came back to my senses, both of us were gasping for air.
I thought she would be satisfied now.
But—her expression said otherwise.
No, it was more than that.
There was something new in Sasha's eyes—a longing, a hunger I had never seen before.
While I was still trying to process it, her face leaned closer. Without a hint of hesitation, she grabbed my face and—
She kissed me.
There was no gentleness in it—only raw passion. Her technique was overtaken by sheer aggression. I didn't even have time to react as she pushed her tongue past my lips, writhing around mine in a frenzy of emotion.
I was still trying to catch up when I felt a hand startle me. One of Sasha's hands held my face, while the other clutched the collar of my shirt—nearly undoing the buttons with reckless urgency.
Everything was escalating too quickly. But I didn't want to stop.
I wanted to take the lead again.
I grabbed her wandering hand and pinned her down onto the bed.
Her flushed face glistened slightly with sweat, her chest rising with every shallow breath. The warmth between us felt almost feverish.
She lay beneath me, overwhelmed by my strength, yet her eyes looked up at me with a softness that shattered my restraint. Her gaze pulled me in—tender, vulnerable, and inviting.
I wanted her.
I wanted to cross that line with her right now.
Without realizing it, my hand came to rest over her, the thin fabric doing little to hide the softness beneath. The slight tremble that ran through her as she tried to adjust was unbearably endearing—fragile, tender, and entirely hers.
Her bosom, full and generous, overflowed beyond the reach of my hand. I ached to see it—no, to feel it fully, to know every curve and warmth with something deeper than sight.
I began to undress her, and in a shy, flustered motion, she hid her face behind her hands. Only one barrier remained between us—her unopened blouse.
"Sasha—" I whispered, voice low with reverence.
To ease the moment, I leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on her hand first, then tracing the distance to her lips, soft and warm beneath mine.
She trembled slightly, but didn't pull away.
With careful fingers and a heart thudding in my chest, I reached for the buttons. She lifted her body just enough—subtle, but unmistakable.
Permission, given.
In one smooth motion, I slipped the blouse from her shoulders, baring her to the quiet light between us.
As I paused, she shifted with flustered hesitation, covering her chest with both hands—trying to hide her generous bosom beneath trembling fingers.
"I want to see you," I whispered, my voice low, reverent.
"No…" she said softly, eyes averted. "You… you won't like it."
I reached out gently and tucked her hands away, guiding them to her sides.
What she revealed was something she had hidden not just from others—but perhaps even from herself. Her breasts were full, generous… and her nipples, tenderly inverted.
Who ever said I wouldn't like it?
"Everything about you is beautiful," I breathed, meeting her gaze.
Slowly, my hand came to rest on one—the warmth of her skin searing against my palm. I leaned in, lips meeting the other. A gentle taste. The delicate scent of lilies rose with her body heat—just like Sasha, soft and fragrant.
I couldn't stop.
The rhythm of my tongue, the press of my lips, the quiet, wet sounds echoing through the room—it was all too much. Her soft gasps filled the silence like music only we could hear.
"Do you want to know what you taste like?"
I asked playfully, a teasing glint in my eyes.
"No! I don't—!"
She shot back immediately, her face puffing into a pout, red with flustered embarrassment.
But my desire was already moving on its own.
I leaned in, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek, letting my fingertips trace the warmth of her blushing skin.
"Why not?" I murmured, voice low, tempting.
I didn't know if it was a test—for her or for me—but I kissed her again.
With the very lips that had just worshipped her chest, I claimed her mouth once more—letting her taste what I had tasted, sharing the heat between us.
She froze under the kiss—just for a moment.
Then she melted.
Her lips parted shyly against mine, unsure yet yearning. Her hands, which had earlier tried to hide herself, now clutched at my shoulders, as if afraid I might disappear.
I deepened the kiss, slowly, carefully—not just to claim her, but to show her. That I meant every word. That I wanted every part of her, no matter how she feared being seen.
Her breath caught when I pulled her closer, our bare skin brushing—soft against firm, heat meeting heat.
I could feel her heartbeat. Fast, frantic. Matching mine.
I laid her back again, gentle but firm, my hand exploring her slowly now, no rush—just reverence. Tracing the curve of her waist, the rise of her hip, the warmth that pulsed beneath her skin.
Her legs shifted, parting slightly—an invitation, silent but clear.
"Sasha…" I whispered her name like a prayer.
She looked up at me through half-lidded eyes, breathless. Vulnerable.
But she didn't look away.
That gaze alone was permission enough.
I kissed down her throat, tasting the line of her collarbone, the flutter of her pulse beneath my lips. She arched ever so slightly, her body moving on instinct, guiding me forward.
And I followed.
Not just with my body, but with everything I had—because in this moment, it wasn't just desire.
It was trust. It was surrender.
It was the beginning of something neither of us could take back.
I moved forward, unable to hold back any longer.
With quiet care, I undressed her lower half, and then removed my own. In this bare, vulnerable state, as our bodies faced each other in full, I truly saw her.
Sasha.
Her skin—smooth and milky white—glowed in the dim light. Her gentle breaths, the way she looked at me through lashes half-lowered in shyness… she was like a living masterpiece. The kind of beauty that didn't simply exist—it elevated the world around it. If there were a canvas behind her, it would pale in comparison to her presence.
And in that moment, I realized something more.
Even in the darkest hours of my life, it was her presence that quietly anchored me.
Her soft words.
Her quiet watchfulness.
The care I never deserved, but always received.
She was the one who reminded me how to stand again.
And now… she had entrusted me with this moment.
Her first.
I wanted it to be gentle. I wanted to take away her fears, to give her only warmth, only peace.
To make it as painless as possible.
To show her that her first time would not be a memory of hesitation—but of love.
Because she had chosen me.
And I would never betray that trust.
"Sasha," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Let me know if it hurts."
She gave the smallest nod, eyes half-lidded, breath unsteady.
My finger moved slowly, deliberately, tracing gentle circles over her pearl. Each tender stroke drew a quiet, trembling breath from her lips.
But I saw it—just beneath her closed eyes, the flicker of tension. Unease.
So I leaned in and kissed her—soft, reassuring—while my touch continued below, gentle and patient.
As her body began to adjust, I slipped a finger inside her.
She was tight—understandably so. Her muscles clenched, instinctively resisting, making the space even narrower.
"Sasha," I whispered again, lips brushing her ear, "I'm here. It's okay."
"I… I don't know," she murmured, then pulled me into a tight embrace—arms wrapping around me as if I were the only thing anchoring her to this moment.
"I feel… strange."
I held her back just as tightly, my other hand still moving with care. I couldn't stop now—not when we'd come this far, not when her body was slowly beginning to trust mine.
To ease her trembling, I kissed the nape of her neck, soft and warm.
Her breathing grew heavier, voice escaping her in hushed moans.
"Ah… ahh…"
She tried to hold them back, but they slipped out—unfiltered, raw.
And I felt her beginning to open—body and heart—beneath my every touch.
With patience, I slid in a second finger. She flinched—just a little—but her body began to accept the motion. Her wetness slicked my hand, warm and eager, a silent message she couldn't yet form with words.
I could feel it.
She was ready.
"Sasha…" I whispered, brushing the hair from her cheek. "I want to be inside you now."
She looked up at me—blushing, vulnerable—and gave a small, shy nod.
Even I could barely hold back anymore.
Before entering, I rubbed myself gently along her folds, letting her body grow familiar with the size and heat. I knew I wasn't small. I had to be careful. To not cause her more pain than necessary.
She trembled—but didn't pull away.
"Sasha…" I locked eyes with her, sharing her breath.
Then, slowly, I guided myself in—only the tip at first, just enough to break the barrier.
She gasped, her arms flying around me, nails digging lightly into my back.
"Hah… huff…"
She was breathing heavily, clutching me tightly as pain passed through her.
"It's going to be okay," I whispered, holding still. "I won't move. I promise. Just breathe… it will ease soon."
But I knew words alone couldn't take the edge off her pain.
So I kissed her—tender, slow, full of everything I couldn't say.
A kiss to distract her.
A kiss to soothe her.
A kiss that carried every heartbeat I shared with her.
This… was my final way of resonating with her. Not just through the body, but soul to soul.
As time passed, our breathing grew heavier—uneven, almost desperate. Her body slowly began to loosen around me, adjusting little by little.
"Sasha—" I whispered her name like a promise.
Guided by instinct and care, I slowly slid into her—my length cloaked in her wetness and tinged faintly with blood. The sensation was overwhelming—tight, warm, and trembling.
"Hah… huff… haah…"
She gasped softly as I pushed deeper, inch by inch, until I was fully inside—completely enveloped by her.
"Does it hurt?" I asked, pausing, holding her gaze.
"No… I… I'm fine."
But I saw through her smile. She was lying—not out of pride, but out of love. She didn't want me to feel guilty.
Still… I knew that stopping now would only prolong her discomfort.
Better to move gently, slowly, to let her body and heart adapt.
I stayed buried inside her, letting her adjust to the fullness, the depth.
Then she let out a cry—soft but shaken.
"Eek… ah… ahh…!"
Her hands pressed over her belly, eyes wide with surprise.
"It's… completely inside me… I can feel all of it!"
Her voice trembled with shock—and awe.
I smiled softly, a little embarrassed, not knowing how to respond. I knew I was larger than average, and right now, that mattered more than ever.
She gave me a subtle nod. I began to move.
Slowly at first—each thrust deliberate, each motion shallow and careful.
"Hnn… ahh… mmm…"
Her moans started softly, but with every gentle rhythm, they grew louder—spilling from her lips in gasps and sweet, breathless sounds that filled the room like music only we could hear.
Each time I pulled back, her body seemed to follow—yearning. Each time I entered again, it felt like we were becoming one, piece by piece.
Her tightness, her warmth, her trust—it all overwhelmed me.
We weren't just joined in body.
We were echoing each other's hearts.
Our bodies moved together in a rhythm that felt older than time. Each slow thrust was a heartbeat, a breath, a shared moment.
Her walls pulsed softly around me, still tight, still adjusting—but no longer resisting. Instead, she welcomed me now. Her hips moved just a little, following my motion, shy but sure.
I held myself back, still moving gently, still watching her face for every little shift.
But then, her fingers found my cheek. She cupped my face, eyes hazy but full of quiet warmth.
"You don't have to hold back," she whispered. "I want to feel you… how you really are."
I paused, uncertain.
"Sasha…"
She smiled faintly, still breathless, but resolute.
"Don't worry about me anymore. Just… move the way you want. I'll be okay."
That broke me—softly, completely.
I kissed her—slow, deep—and then let myself go.
My rhythm quickened, though still careful, still listening to her breath, her moans, the way her body rose to meet me.
Her softness enveloped me with every movement, slick warmth pulling me deeper, drawing me closer.
"Ah… ahh… yes…"
Her voice trembled, no longer trying to hide anything. Her hands clutched at my back, nails grazing skin. She was close—I could feel it in the way her legs tensed, the way her body arched beneath mine.
"I'm… I'm going to—!"
Her cry escaped just as her body clenched around me, fluttering in waves of release. She held on tightly, burying her face in my neck as her climax overtook her, trembling in my arms.
The sensation pushed me over the edge too.
My pace stuttered as I pushed deep one last time.
And with a low groan, I released inside her—filling her completely, our bodies locked in a moment of pure, trembling stillness.
Her warmth held me, her body accepting every drop, every heartbeat.
The room was silent now—save for our unsteady breaths, our hearts pounding in rhythm.
I stayed there, not wanting to move. Not yet. I brushed the damp strands of hair from her forehead and kissed her again—soft, lingering.
"Thank you," I whispered.
We didn't say anything more.
But in the quiet, in the closeness, something unspoken passed between us—
A feeling neither of us dared name… not yet.