Hazel lay on the edge of the bed, naked and breathless. Her chest rose and fell as she stared up at Francisco, who stood in front of her, also gasping. He rolled on a condom, his eyes locked on hers.His body was strong, sculpted—and she couldn’t look away.Francisco leaned in slowly, brushing his thumb across her lips. Hazel closed her eyes at the warmth of his touch.He kissed her—softly, deeply.Hazel kissed him back, matching his pace. The kiss stretched out, unhurried, full of quiet tension. When he finally pulled away, he stayed close, his forehead nearly touching hers.“If it hurts,” he whispered, “just tell me.”Hazel said nothing. She only wet her lips with her tongue, her breath still shaky.That silence was enough. He kissed her again, slower this time, trailing his lips down her neck.Then he gently pushed himself inside her.Hazel gasped, clinging to his hair, her fingers curling in. A quiet moan escaped her lips as he began to move—slow and carefully.It wasn’t like him.
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