Claim Me Captain! I'm Addicted to You!
Chapter 41: Let’s Make It Real (2)

Chapter 41: Let’s Make It Real (2)

Georgia’s POV

Nick’s tongue was driving me insane. I couldn’t think straight—my mind a tangled mess of heat and pressure. Every flick, every stroke made my head spin. It felt like my brain was about to short-circuit.

He devoured me with such skill, teasing my clit, tracing my folds, lapping up my soaking center like I was his last meal.

I was dripping. Drenched. And desperate.

Then he started to rise, slow and deliberate, leaving a trail of burning kisses up my body. My thighs. My belly. My breasts. My neck. Until finally, my mouth.

His tongue had barely left my clit when his fingers took over, rubbing tight circles over the aching nub, making me writhe beneath him.

"You’re really untouched, aren’t you?" he whispered against my lips, like I hadn’t already told him a thousand times.

"Yes," I gasped, barely able to breathe through the pleasure.

He kissed me again, harder this time. "I’ll be gentle..." he muttered. "For now."

Then his tongue pushed deep into my mouth, stealing what little breath I had left.

God help me... I didn’t want him to be gentle. Not anymore.

Then he did it.

His finger slid deep into my soaking pussy, slow and cautious. I moaned into his mouth, unable to hold it in. He moved in and out, teasing me, stretching me inch by inch.

"You’re so fucking wet, Georgia," he growled against my lips. "You’re driving me insane."

His finger moved faster, each thrust hitting deeper. My back arched, and my thighs trembled.

"Nick... ahh..." It was all I could manage. The pleasure was sharp—raw—even though it was just one finger, I felt every pulse, every stroke.

"Fuck, I want to feel this wet and warmth wrapped around my cock," he said, voice thick with restraint. "But not yet... I don’t want to hurt you."

I cried out—half moan, half gasp—clutching the blanket under me with one hand while my other clawed at his arm.

It was too much... and not enough at the same time.

The stretch, the fullness—it burned a little in the best way. A delicious ache that made my body writhe beneath him, aching for more but barely able to handle what he was giving.

I didn’t want him to stop.

"Shit, you’re so tight. My fingers can barely fit," Nick muttered, voice hoarse—rough with desire.

But his words were starting to blur. I couldn’t focus anymore. All I could feel was the relentless way his fingers filled me, stroked me, made me burn from the inside out.

"Ahh—Nick... God..." I cried out, my voice trembling with every thrust of his hand.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, pausing just slightly.

I shook my head, desperate. It burned, but in the most addictive way. My body ached, not from pain... but from need. From everything I’d been denying myself until now.

Then I felt it—he pulled his fingers out. I whimpered from the loss. He kissed me hard, one last time, before whispering against my lips, "Georgia... I’m sorry. I can’t take it anymore. I want you."

He stood, unbuttoning his pants. And my eyes followed every movement—until they caught on his hand.

The one that had just been inside me.

There was blood.

My stomach flipped. My heart raced—not from fear, but from the harsh, beautiful reality of what was about to happen.

He noticed. Caught the look in my eyes. Without hesitation, he wiped his fingers on his pants and leaned down to kiss me again. Soft. Reassuring.

"Hey... It’s normal. It’s your first time," he said gently.

"I know, but—" I started.

He cut me off, eyes dark and steady. "Are you backing out?"

I froze, then slowly shook my head. "No."

"Good girl."

He kissed me again, deep and slow, as his fingers intertwined with mine. Then he pulled me to my feet, guiding me toward him.

His hands moved to mine, pressing them against his waistband. My fingers trembled, but he didn’t rush me.

I unzipped his pants, slowly pulling them down. My breath caught when I felt the heat of him—bare and hard beneath my touch.

This was it.

No turning back.

And I didn’t want to.

Then it happened.

His cock sprang free from his underwear, thick, hard, and unapologetically huge beyond my imagination.

I froze.

I stood there, breath stuck in my throat, eyes locked on it like I was staring down a weapon.

Sure, I’ve seen dicks before—on screens, in photos—thanks to Ella who made sure I was "educated" before I ever got close to a honeymoon. But this? This wasn’t what I was prepared for. This wasn’t just big. It was massive. His height gave justice to it. It is real. And twitching right in front of me.

I slowly looked up at Nick. He was watching me, his eyes smoldering with heat and hunger, and something feral beneath the surface. My mind scrambled for logic—he’s tall, six-foot-something, and I’m... barely five-two. How the hell is that supposed to fit?

I’m going to be wrecked... Big time!

Nick smirked, his hand sliding beneath my chin to tilt my face up. "Are you scared?" he chuckled, "Who’s afraid now?" he teased, his voice thick with amusement.

"I—It’s big... I don’t think it’s gonna go in..." I whispered, my throat dry and my heartbeat thundering in my ears.

His eyes darkened. "Don’t worry, it will fit. I will make sure it will..."

Then he took my hands, guided them to him, and oh my God... The moment I touched him, I flinched. It was rock hard. Burning hot in my palms.

I could barely breathe.

Oh. My. God!!!

I’m holding a cock! His cock. And it’s nothing like what I imagined.

But I kept my cool—on the outside.

Inside, I was screaming.

I remembered what Ella and I had watched. I mirrored what I’d seen. My fingers wrapped around him, and I slowly stroked him—up, then down, exploring every inch. He inhaled sharply, his body tensing, chest rising and falling faster with every stroke.

He was losing control.

And somehow... that made me bolder.

"Fuck, Georgia... you sure know how to make a man crave you," he growled, voice thick with need.

I looked up at him, breath shaky. "I—I really don’t know what I’m doing. I’m just copying what I saw... from the videos Ella and I watched before my wedding."

He chuckled, low and dangerous. Heat rose to my cheeks, mortified by my own honesty, but then he leaned in closer—eyes gleaming with a wild kind of hunger.

"Really?" he murmured. "Then show me what else you’ve learned."

It sounded like a challenge. And I don’t back down from challenges.

Still stroking his thick, pulsing cock, I stared up at him and slowly sank to my knees, never breaking eye contact. I opened my mouth, then let my tongue glide over the tip, tasting the salty tease of precum as he parted his lips in a silent gasp.

His jaw clenched, body tensing.

I could see that he wanted me to swallow him whole—but I didn’t. Not yet.

I flicked my tongue across the head, then dragged it slowly down the length of him. From base to tip, I licked him like I was savoring something forbidden. He hissed—loud, guttural.

"Ahh... fuck, Georgia... you’re killing me..."

His voice was strained. Desperate.

I did it again. And again. Slow, deliberate strokes with my tongue, coating him completely until his cock glistened in the dim glow of the campfire.

Only the heavens knew how nervous I was. My heart was racing. My hands were trembling.

But I kept going.

And he kept falling apart.

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