The tip of Silas's dick stayed at the entrance for a long, aching minute. Salvar could feel the heat of him, the pressure, the promise of something he had been simultaneously dreading and wanting for far longer than he cared to admit. Then Silas took hold of Salvar's knees and folded them gently toward his chest, and slowly, deliberately, he began to push inside.
Salvar let out a slow gasp. His teeth gritted together as his body struggled to process the sensation, the sheer unfamiliar fullness of it. He had known it would be a lot, but at the same time had not known it would be this much.
Silas pulled back halfway, then pushed in again. His hips found a rhythm, tentative at first, then growing steadier with each thrust.
Salvar's virgin body resisted the intrusion on pure instinct, the muscles clenching tight around Silas's shaft, making every movement a negotiation.
