Davien didn't move for a while, letting her adjust to the feeling. His kisses trailed from her lips down her neck, drawing her focus away from the discomfort. After what felt like forever, Bel's grip on his back loosened, her breathing steadying.
"You okay?" he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead. Bel nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
Davien slowly began to move, each stroke careful and deliberate, watching her reactions. The discomfort gave way to a strange mix of sensations—heat, friction, and pressure, but not the same sharp pain as before. As he built a rhythm, Bel's body began to respond, her breaths hitching for different reasons now.
"That's it," Davien murmured against her skin, feeling her start to relax. His hand slid down to her waist, holding her securely in place as his movements grew more assertive.