But instead, he puts on a condom and lines himself up with me spread out beneath him like an offering, my knees up high.
“This okay?” he asks, his dark eyes not leaving my face.
“Yes,” I say breathlessly. “Just hurry up.”
He gives a wolfish grin. “Someone’s impatient.”
Have I ever had so much eye contact while someone is easing inside me? I feel pinned by Jared’s gaze, unable to wrench my eyes from his.
Weirdly, something about this feels like my first time again, that same mix of nervousness and want. Except now there’s also this terrifying tenderness that makes my chest ache.
He goes slowly, watching my face for permission to continue, even though I’m already pulling him closer by wrapping my legs around him, begging with my body.
The stretch burns in the best way, that perfect edge between too much and not enough. He stays still once he’s fully inside me, his forehead dropping to rest against mine while we both adjust. I can feel his heartbeat everywhere we’re connected, rapid and strong. It matches the frantic rhythm of my own.
“God, you feel incredible,” he murmurs, and the reverence in his voice turns my throat dry.
When he starts to move, it’s devastatingly slow. Each withdrawal makes me want to cry from the loss, each return makes me see stars. His hands frame my face, his thumbs stroking my cheekbones while he sets a rhythm that’s going to kill me with kindness.
His hands slide down to grip my hips, holding me steady as he picks up the pace. The new angle makes me gasp, my fingers digging into his shoulders. He notices immediately, repeating the same movement, watching my face.
Like he’s making it his life’s mission to take me apart piece by piece.
The room fills with the sound of our breathing, the soft slap of skin against skin, and the embarrassing noises I can’t seem to stop making.
He gets his hand between us but keeps his grip on my cock loose, just enough to provide dual sources of pleasure but not quite enough to tip me over the edge.
I’m dissolving into sensation, losing track of where I end and he begins.
My legs are shaking, my whole body trembling like I’m about to fly apart at the seams. When I’m right on the edge, so close I can taste it, Jared suddenly sits back on his heels, his hands sliding under my thighs.
He pulls me onto his lap and continues to thrust into me, lighting up that spot inside me, his grip tightening around my cock, stroking me perfectly.
“Oh my god, yes, like that, keep going.” An uncontrollable stream of words is spilling from my mouth, and for once, I don’t care about filtering myself, don’t care what I’m revealing. “Jared, god, right there, you’re incredible. How are you so good at this? Please, don’t stop.”
Everything builds and builds. When I finally come, it’s with enough force that I’m pretty sure I leave nail marks on his shoulders. I might also say something embarrassing, but my brain has temporarily left the building, so I can’t be held responsible.
I feel him fall apart right after me, his face buried in my neck as he repeats my name against my skin. Not “fuck” or “god” but “Felix, Felix, Felix” like my name is the only thing he can remember. Like maybe I’ve broken his brain as much as he’s broken mine.
I collapse onto the mattress, trying to get my breath back.
“You almost killed me,” I rasp.
Jared is breathless and gorgeous, smiling at me as he reaches over to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear.
“I’m guessing I should take that as a compliment?”
“Luckily, you didn’t kill me because I’m not sure if I want my last words to be ‘yeah, right there, that’s it, give me your huge cock….’”
He laughs, and the sound rumbles through his chest, wrapping around me like a blanket.
“Actually, that would be an interesting subset of last words. Last words said in a sexual context,” I say.
“What about ‘Wait, is that camera still recording?’” Jared offers.
I can’t help laughing at that. “Maybe ‘Damn, I really should have mentioned my latex allergy.’”
“Or ‘I should have paid extra for the reinforced bedframe.’”
