Harry's weight was a warm, solid pressure against her, pinning her gently but firmly against the closed door.
Lyria felt her heart hammering against her ribs, a crazy rhythm that mirrored the sudden surge of heat flooding her lower belly. She had never felt the sheer physical presence of someone who wanted her this badly.
His scent...a mix of clean musk and something uniquely him...filled her senses, making her head swim.
"You're so beautiful, Lyria," Harry whispered, his voice dropping an octave, becoming a low, vibrating rumble that she felt in her own chest.
He didn't move away, instead, he shifted his hips, pressing his hardness against her thigh. The contact was electric.
Lyria gasped, her eyes widening as she felt the rigid length of his cock through their clothes. She didn't know exactly what it was, but the instinctual reaction of her body was immediate, wet ache between her legs.
Harry noticed the way her breath hitched. He leaned in, his lips grazing the sensitive shell of her ear. "Are you nervous?" he murmured, his breath hot and moist.
"I... I've never..." she started, her voice trembling, but she didn't pull away. Instead, her fingers tentatively reached up, clutching the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.
Harry smiled against her skin, a predatory smile but with affectionate expression. He shifted his focus to her neck giving a slow, long kiss just below her jawline.
Lyria let out a soft moan, her head tilting back against the door to give him better access. The sensation of his lips and the slight scratch of his manhood sent shivers racing down her spine. He began to trail kisses downward, marking her skin with soft, wet presses that made her toes curl.
"I want to show you everything," Harry whispered, his hands sliding down from the door to grip her waist. His palms were large and warm, squeezing her hips with a possessive firmness. "I want to take my time with you."
He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. The confidence in his gaze was intoxicating, acting as an anchor for her shyness.
He reached down, his fingers finding the hem of her dress, slowly sliding the fabric upward. Lyria shivered as the cool air hit her skin, followed quickly by the searing heat of Harry's hand. He slid his palm up her thigh, his touch light and teasing, moving higher and higher until he reached the lace of her panties.
Lyria let out a small, shaky breath, her legs feeling like jelly. When Harry's fingers finally brushed against the damp silk covering her center, she jumped slightly, a small whimper escaping her lips.
"You're already so wet for me," Harry noted, his voice thick with desire. He didn't stop, instead pressing his middle finger firmly against her clit through the fabric.
Lyria's eyes fluttered shut. The sensation was overwhelming, concentrated spark of pleasure that radiated outward.
She arched her back, pressing herself into his hand, her shy reserve melting away under the onslaught of new sensations. She didn't know how to ask for more, but her body did it for her, grinding her hips instinctively against his finger.
Harry groaned, the sound guttural and hungry. He stepped back just enough to strip off his clothes with efficient, hurried movements. Lyria watched with wide, curious eyes as he shed his shirt and trousers, revealing a lean, muscular physique and a thick, pulsing cock that stood proud and rigid. She had seen pictures, but the reality of him, the veins tracing the length of his shaft, the glistening bead of pre-cum at the tip made her swallow hard.
"Come here," he commanded softly.
He reached for her, sliding her dress over her head and tossing it aside. Then, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, sliding them down her legs in one fluid motion. Lyria stood before him, trembling and exposed, her pale skin flushing a deep pink.
Harry took a moment to simply admire her, his eyes roaming over her breasts and the soft curve of her belly, landing finally on the neatly groomed hair between her legs, where her pussy was glistening and open.
He picked her up effortlessly, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carried her to the bed, laying her down on the soft sheets with a gentleness that contrasted with the hunger in his eyes.
Harry crawled over her, his body a heavy, comforting weight. He started with her breasts, his tongue swirling around her nipples, teasing them into hard peaks.
He sucked one deep into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip while his hand traveled down to her pussy. He parted her lips with two fingers, sliding them slowly into her tight, virgin heat.
Lyria gasped, her hips jerking upward. "It... it feels... full," she whispered, her voice strained.
"Just relax, baby," Harry murmured, his fingers curling inside her, finding the sensitive walls of her vagina. He began to pump his fingers in and out, a slow, steady rhythm that started to build a pressure in her gut. He used his thumb to rub her clit simultaneously, creating a symphony of pleasure that had Lyria sobbing softly, her head tossing from side to side on the pillow.
As she neared her first peak, Harry decided it was time. He positioned himself between her legs, the head of his cock brushing against her entrance. Lyria looked up at him, a flash of fear crossing her face, but Harry leaned down to kiss her deeply, his tongue dancing with hers, soothing her anxiety.
"I've got you," he whispered against her lips. "Just breathe."
Slowly, with agonizing patience, Harry began to push inside. Lyria felt a sharp sting, a sensation of being stretched to her limit. She gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin.
Harry stopped immediately, staying still and kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, waiting for her body to adjust.
"It hurts a little," she whimpered.
"I know, sweetheart. Just a moment. Breathe with me."
Once he felt her muscles relax, he gave a slow, firm thrust, sliding deeper into her tight channel. Lyria let out a loud cry, her eyes snapping open, but as he settled fully inside her, the pain began to fade, replaced by an intense, filling sensation. She felt stretched, occupied, and completely claimed.