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Y/n Russell-25
Y/n POV
I didn't give her time to second guess. I picked her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around my waist as I carried her to my bedroom. Her breath hitched with every step, like she couldn't believe this was really happening.
"Y/n," she breathed out as I laid her gently on my bed, my body hovering over hers. "We shouldn't..."
"Shh," I whispered, my lips brushing against her ear. "Let me show you what you've been missing. Let me show you what this 25-year-old can do for you."
I started slow, kissing her neck, my hands tracing the curves of her body that she thought time had forgotten. I could feel her hesitancy, the walls she'd built up over years of disappointment.
"You don't have to do this," she whispered, though her body was telling a different story.
"I want to," I murmured against her skin. "I want to show you how a woman's supposed to be loved."
I took my time, learning every inch of her body, listening to the sounds she made, memorizing the spots that made her gasp. I wasn't rushing to the finish line like she was used to. I was savoring every moment, every touch, every taste.
"Look at me," I commanded softly as I positioned myself between her legs. She hesitated, her eyes darting away like she was ashamed to be seen.
"Jazmine, look at me," I repeated, my voice gentle but firm. When her eyes finally met mine, I saw the vulnerability, the fear of rejection she'd been carrying for years.
"You're beautiful," I said, and I meant it. Every stretch mark, every line, every imperfection that she saw as flaws, I saw as beauty marks, as proof of a life lived.
"Y/n," she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "No one's ever..."
"I know," I said, kissing away the single tear that escaped. "Let me be the first."
I entered her slowly, watching her face for any sign of discomfort. When I was fully inside her, I didn't move. I just held her, letting her adjust, letting her feel me, all of me.
"Okay?" I asked, and she nodded, her hands gripping my shoulders like she was afraid I might disappear.
I started moving then, slow and deliberate, my hips rocking in a rhythm that had her arching her back in pleasure. It wasn't about taking my own pleasure; it was about giving her hers.
"Feel that?" I asked, my voice thick with emotion as I hit that spot deep inside her.
"God, y/n," she moaned, her nails digging into my back.
"That's all you, baby," I said, picking up the pace slightly. "That's all us."
I watched as she let go, her body relaxing, accepting me, accepting us. I flipped us over so she was on top, giving her the control, the power she'd been missing in her previous relationships.
"Ride me, Jazmine," I encouraged, my hands on her hips, guiding her. "Take what you need."
She started slow, hesitant at first, but then she found her rhythm, her head thrown back in ecstasy as she took her pleasure from me. I watched her, mesmerized by the sight of this beautiful woman coming apart above me, all because of me.
"Y/n," she cried out, her body convulsing as she reached her peak. "I'm..."
"I know, baby, I got you," I said, flipping us back over so I could finish what I started, my thrusts becoming more erratic as I chased my own release.
"Look at me," I demanded again, and this time she didn't hesitate. Her eyes locked with mine as I poured myself into her, our bodies moving as one, our souls connecting in a way that transcended age, experience, and expectations.
After, as we lay tangled in my sheets, her head on my chest, I traced patterns on her back, waiting for her to speak.
"Y/n," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I..."
"You don't have to say anything," I said, kissing the top of her head. "I already know."
"No, I need to say this," she said, sitting up to look at me. "I've been with a lot of men, older men, men my age, men who should've known better, and none of them... none of them ever made me feel the way you just did."
"That's because I'm not trying to just get something from you," I said, brushing the hair from her face. "I'm trying to give you something."
"What?" she asked, her eyes searching mine.
"Everything," I said simply. "Everything you deserve."
She laughed then, a real, genuine laugh that I hadn't heard before.
"What's so funny?" I asked, smiling at her.
"Me," she said, shaking her head. "I was so worried about what I couldn't give you, what I was too old for, when all this time, you were worried about what you could give me."
"Age ain't nothing but a number, Jazmine," I said, pulling her back into my arms. "But love... love is everything."
"I think I'm starting to believe that," she said, her voice muffled against my chest.
"Good," I said, kissing her forehead. "Because I'm not going anywhere."
"Promise?" she asked, and I could hear the vulnerability in her voice, the fear that this was too good to be true.
"Promise," I said, and I meant it. "Now, you hungry? I believe there's some Chick-fil-A in the kitchen with our name on it."
"Lead the way," she said, and as we walked to the kitchen, her hand in mine, I knew this was just the beginning of our story.
