Embarrassed by the one I love.

He swept me up into his arms gently and carried me, bridal-style, to the bed as I locked my arms across my breasts, blushing. Without warning, he threw me onto the bed, fast enough I squeaked and my hands had to grab onto the bed. He was pinning me to the bed, his mouth kissing down my throat, down my collarbone, before I recovered. He pulled back, grinning at me.
My breathing was labored, my nipples hard and aching from his teasing and I was blushing, unable to meet his eyes.
Gohan grinned down at me smugly. "Having fun, yet?"
I didn't answer at first and, when I did, my voice was breathless. "I don't know."
He stared pointedly at the points of my nipples. "Looks like you're having fun." When I blushed deeper, he trailed his hand down lower, tracing the very top of the new panties and said, "There's a better way to check, though." And, before I could reply, he was, very gently, cupping his hand around me. He chuckled when my body reacted at that light touch. "Yeah, you're having fun."
The blush deepened to the point where I thought I'd never be white again.
He gently brushed his lips against mine. "Don't worry, Story. It's nothing to be embarrassed about." His trailed his lips down the front of my throat, down between my breasts, down my stomach and he lay a kiss on each side of my inner thighs, using his hands to pull my legs apart, then to work the panties down my legs carefully.
I dug my nails into my hands. "What are you doing this time?"
With a smirk, he looked up at me. "What do you think I'm doing?" His pressed his mouth against me, over me, sucking, licking, nipping gently.
My breath came in a sigh, I tensed and my eyes closed, nails digging into my hands. I tried to wiggle away from him and his questing mouth.
He grabbed my hips in his hands and pulled me back, at the same time thrusting his tongue into me. He explored gently, sucking, licking and biting gently, quickly, until I felt a weight building.
I tried to pull away again, but he held me immobile, pressed tightly to the bed. "Wait, God, please."
He pulled back just enough to say, "Does it hurt?"
"If I say no?"
"Then I'm going on."
"Then, yes, it hurts." Anything to stop the pressure!
He smiled. "I know it doesn't." He plunged his tongue deeper into me, as deep as he could go, sucking and nipping at the same time.
I writhed, trying to get away from him, but I was still immobile.
His hands tightened on my hips, holding me tight enough I couldn't move even the tiniest bit. His sucking increased and with every suck, the pressure got lower and lower and heavier and heavier.
"Wait, please!" And with the yell, the pressure popped, spilling from me through screams, struggles and thick liquid.
As long as he continued to suck, it spilled from me. As long as he nipped, it spilled from me. As long as he licked, it spilled from me in screams. And he didn't seem to want to stop. Finally, when he pulled away, his lips were glistening and his eyes were filled with laughter.
All I was seeing was the inside of my own head covered in a white curtain. I felt the bed move and felt his hot, bare chest press to my bare chest. I tried to open my eyes, but nothing was working. Even when I felt his weight settling gently atop me, forcing my legs further apart, I wasn't able to open my eyes.
He chuckled. "I'll wait until you're conscious." He bent over me, playing his tongue around my nipple.
When I could speak, which was awhile after I could see, I said, "I am conscious."
He laughed. "Sure you are." He raised above me now, grinning. "Now how do you feel? Is that pressure gone?"
I felt my eyes widen. "You were reading my mind!"
"It wasn't on purpose."
THAT deepened the blush. "I hate you."
He laughed. "I don't think you do." He sat up a bit, struggling to get the remainder of his clothing off. "If you did, you would've stopped this a long time ago." When he settled back down on me, I could feel every part of him against me. He smiled. "You know, with you being so damn short, it makes it hard to do this."
I stuck my tongue out at him. "You don't have to do anything, you know."
He grinned. "No, this is something I need. Any longer of denying it, I'd be in more pain than I am now."
"How are you in pain?"
His grin widened. "When a man gets so turned on, it hurts."
I blushed. "Oh."
"I think we've talked enough, don't you?" And he moved just a bit.
The moment I felt him right against my entrance, I stiffened.
"Ready?" He rubbed his lips across my cheek. "Relax, Story, for Christ's sake. You act like you think I'm going to hurt you."
I shrugged. "It hurt with my ex."
He smiled. "Well, of course it's going to hurt, but what I mean is you act like I'm going to purposefully hurt you."
I frowned at him. "Big difference."
"It is a big difference. See, with me, hurting you is going to be definitely happening because I'm a little too well-endowed to not hurt you accidentally."
The blush flared to life. "Uhhh, okay?"
"I'm not lying on that, Story, but I guess you wouldn't really know about sizes for your small bit of experience, would you?" He grabbed my hand, forcing it down over his chest, down until. . . .
I gasped and tried to yank my hand away, but he held firm.
"What do you think, Story? Think I'm going to hurt you?"
I was blushing so bad, I was dizzy again. "I think it's a possibility." My hand, small as it is, could've closed over my ex's. It would not close over him. Not even close. It might've taken a few of my hands to close around him. Both of my hands wouldn't have closed over it.
He chuckled, releasing my hand. "There. Better?"
I nodded. "Yeah, very."
He smiled gently at me. "I'm going to be very gentle, though, and try my very best not to hurt you. It's going to be hard not to lose control with you because you're more like my equal. I could be as rough as I want and not hurt you."
Blushing. God. I hated it.
He gave a small, but powerful movement with his hips that put him harder against me, then another movement forced the very tip into me.
I gasped, claws digging into his shoulders. Did it hurt? Hell, yeah.
Very slowly, he pushed his way inside. There was already sweat beaded on his chest and his chest, arms and neck were stiff, hard, with the strain of holding himself back. Every few seconds, he'd stop and let me catch my breath--or perhaps it was just that he wanted to give himself time to gather his control.
I was panting already. The pain was starting to lessen, but that didn't mean it wasn't there. At first, it'd been 100% pain, now it was more like 80%.
"Story, talk to me here, okay?"
"About what?" Even my voice sounded strained.
"What's your favorite color?"
It was such an unusual question, it took my mind off the pain. "Silver."
"Favorite food?"
"Miso ramen."
"What do you like to do in your spare time?"
"I like to hike." These things seemed to be all things he already knew, so why was he asking?
A few more questions later, he asked, "Do you still feel pain?"
I was silent for a few minutes, trying to feel any pain. "No," I whispered.
He grinned. "Good. This is where it gets fun." With no more preliminaries, he grabbed my hips, withdrew about half-way and shoved his way back in, as hard and fast as he dared.
I gasped, letting out a moan as I felt him smash into the end of me. It felt good. "Oh, God," I panted.
"Does that hurt?"
"No."
"Good." He withdrew, this time all the way, and with every ounce of strength he had in his body, as fast as he could, he thrust back in.
This time, I screamed. And it wasn't from pain. My nails dug into his back, drawing blood.
He didn't ask if I was okay--he just did it again, thrusting in as hard, fast and deep as he could. It wasn't long before I was unable to scream--all I could do was pant. I had no breath left for screaming. He fought against my body's resistence, crashing through all the resistences, thrust in as far as he could go, stayed until it was nearly pain, then withdrew. All this made me unable to catch my breath for even an instant. He propped himself up on his elbows, staring down at me, forcing his hips against mine. "How is it, Story?"
Before he'd propped himself up, I'd been hiding my face against his chest. Now he forced me to look into his eyes. I blushed, but didn't answer.
"Come on, Story, just one word. Is it good, bad, painful, what?"
"It's amazing," I breathed.
He grinned. "Good to know." When I tried to look away, he cupped my chin and forced me back. "No, you're about to orgasm and I want to watch you when you do."
How did he know about that? That familiar pressure was back, but this time it was thicker, heavier than before. "Why?"
"Being with me--is that your first orgasm?"
I blushed, nodding.
"First time for everything, then." He released my chin and even as he pinned my wrists to the bed, his penetrating eyes held me captive. I couldn't have looked away if the house had caught fire. Propping himself up the way he did while pinning my wrists forced him against me further, making the angle different somehow, sharper, maybe.
And then there was just no more time for words--no more time for thoughts. The orgasm caught me unaware and, turning my head, I screamed, bucked, struggled as he pinned me carefully, easily, all while he continued to shove his way into me, harder, deeper and faster. Just as I was gaining control over myself, it hit again, harder, forcing me to fight against him enough that he had to bore down to keep me pinned. In the midst of the second orgasm, I felt something hot, liquid spill into me and he half-collapsed onto me.
When I was silent, but still struggling, he managed to roll us onto our sides, holding me tight against him. His chest was sweat-slickened and burning against mine, his arms tight around me and, as his heart beat frantically in my ear, everything was perfect. When I was finally still in his arms, he smiled down at me. "How do you feel? Any soreness?"
"A little," I admitted.
"I expected that, but sorry all the same."
"For what?"
"Didn't I hurt you?"
I shook my head, blushing. "Not at all, no. Except at the beginning, of course."
He smiled. "Are you sure?"
I nodded. "Perfectly." I yawned.
"I think I wore you out, though."
I blinked up at him. "Aren't you tired?"
"Hell, no."
"Well, if you remember correctly, I was tired before all this began."
"Liar."
I stared at him. "What?"
"You wanted time alone so you could concoct a scheme to get away from us to go to that meeting alone."
"You-"
"I didn't read you mind, Story. It was written all over your face."
I believed that. I snuggled into him, too tired for talking.
"Seriously, are you really that tired?"
"Yes, I'm tied."
"Would you like a shirt of mine to sleep in?"
That made me pull back, covering myself with the blanket, eyes wide.
He laughed, tugging gently at the blanket. "After we just fucked, don't you think it's a bit, well, silly to cover yourself? I just did things to you that most men couldn't even dream about." He pulled the blanket from me, smiling gently, and held his arms out to me. "I asked because I don't mind getting caught naked in the morning if someone comes in. I'm guessing you do. Plus, you'd just look damn cute in my shirt."
I glared at him.
"It would cover more of you than that nightgown." When I sighed, he grinned and jumped up, going to his drawer to pick out a black shirt. "Stand up."
I glared harder at him. There was no way I'd be able to stand yet.
He grinned, obviously knowing what I was thinking. "Aw, that's right." He sat on the edge of the bed and, holding me up with one arm, helped me into his shirt with the other. Dammit. He was right. The thing covered more than that damn nightgown. He crawled into bed beside me, pulling me up against him. "It'll be damn hard to sleep with a mostly naked, gorgeous girl next to me, but I'll try my best." He gently kissed my cheek. "Go on, get some sleep. This won't be the last time we make love. I can guarentee that."
"Cocky, aren't you?" I asked, yawning.
"Not so much cocky as persistent."
I cuddled into him, ear against his heart, and sighed. "Good night, Gohan."
"Good night, Story." His arms tightened around me. "And think twice if you think you're getting away to go to that meeting alone."