“Move with me, baby,” I gently encourage.
His fingers tighten around my waist. He pulls his hips back, slow and unsure, as if expecting this to be different from fucking a woman. I guess in some ways it is. Probably many ways. Who am I to say? I’ve never fucked a woman before.
But he has… so I’m not gonna judge.
He presses forward, slow and deliberate, like he’s memorizing every detail of this new terrain.
Taking his time.
Adjusting—not just physically, but mentally—to the sensation of fucking a man.
Me.
His breath shudders. There’s a tremble in his body, not from hesitation, but fromconcentration.
The intensity of his focus is so sharp, it feels almost tangible—like I could reach out and touch it.
His dick thickens inside me, andthatfeels really good.
I turn my head to grab a kiss. The tip of his nose grazes mine as he reaches for my lips.
His moan makes them vibrate. Voice breathy and broken, curses slipping into each breath like he’s falling apart in my mouth.
Those sounds—so vulnerable, so real.
They do something to me. Make me feel wanted, needed… connected.
He rocks his hips back and forth as his confidence builds. His moans take me under, stealing my breath, my thoughts, until all that’s left is the way he makes me feel. Like I’m drowning in waves I don’t want to fight—pulling me deeper into him… into us.
The plump ridge of his head drags across my prostate, and my hips judder in sensory overload.
“Fuck, baby! Fuuuck!” I cry out, gritting my teeth, rocking back on his dick as he pushes in with more force, more passion, more heart.
I’m barely keeping it together. Between the sexy sounds of his moans and his fierce fucking, I’m slipping into a freefall—into him, into now, into soft and shattering that feels a lot like love.
“Elijaaah,” he groans, snapping his hips against my ass.
But then he stops, and the air rushes out of me, quiet and cruel, leaving behind only the ache of sudden stillness.
I part my lips to ask why he stopped, but the moment shifts when he leans into me, his weight pressing over my back, and all that’s left is the quiet thrum of want between us.
His forearm wraps tenderly around my chest, the other around my waist as he guides me upright until our bodies align flush, my back to his chest.
“I love you too,” he whispers against my sweaty skin, tenderly kissing my shoulder, neck, cheek, and finally my lips when I tiltmy face to the side. The saltiness from his tears shocks my taste buds, and it breaks my heart that he’s been crying.
With his arms curled tightly around my body, he once again begins fucking me—harder. Releasing all of his anger and aggression into every brutal punch of his hips. His rage is raw and sinful, wild and unrestrained. He comes in a rush, and I yell out his name the instant I feel his hot seed burst inside me. His dick jerks and twitches. I exhale sounds I’ve never even heard come from me before.
Soft. Loud. Shaky. Half lost between a breath and something like a sob.
“Alex,” I hiss, coming all over myself and the sheets.
I shudder, collapsing in a puddle of cum, his exhausted body following mine down to the mattress as the fight finally depletes him.
I turn and pull him closer, wrapping my arms around his trembling chest. He melts into me without resistance, his body molding perfectly against mine.
When I press soft kisses to his tear-streaked cheek, he sighs—deep and peaceful—like maybe, just maybe, he believes he’s safe here.
And it’s at that moment, with him resting in my arms, that I decide to wait until morning… to tell him what I really came here for.
