I turn my face to kiss his palm. “I believe you. I got tested last month, and I’m negative too.” I take a deep breath, feeling vulnerable but safe in the cocoon of his attention. “I want to feel you. Just you.”
He studies my face for a long moment, and I can see him processing what I’m really asking for. Not just the physical act but the trust it represents. The commitment. “Are you sure?” he asks again, but this time, the question carries a different weight.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” I tell him, and it’s true. The morning light plays across his features, highlighting the curve of his cheek, the line of his jaw, and the warmth in his eyes.
His kiss, when it comes, is different from the ones before—deeper, more deliberate, like he’s trying to pour all his feelings into it. I respond in kind, opening to him, letting him feel how much I want this, want him.
“You’re amazing,” he murmurs against my lips. “Do you know that?” His hands start moving again, trailing fire across my skin. “The way you trust me… The way you make me feel…”
I arch into his touch, gasping as his fingers find sensitive spots. “Show me,” I whisper. “Show me how I make you feel.”
He groans, the sound vibrating through both our bodies. “God, Caspian…” His mouth travels down my neck, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. “I want to make this so good for you.”
The sheets rustle as we move together, and outside, the occasional car passing and the birds chirping are just background noise to our breathing, our whispered words, our skin sliding against skin.
“I know you will,” I say, running my fingers through his hair, down his back, anywhere I can reach. “I trust you. I want you.” Each word feels like a promise, like I’m giving him pieces of myself I didn’t even know I had to give.
He lifts his head to look at me again, and the intensity in his gaze makes me shiver. “Tell me what you want,” he says, his voice low and rough. “Tell me exactly what you need.”
The request sends heat flooding through me.
“I want to feel your weight on top of me. I want to see you as you fill me up.”
He reaches for the lube on the nightstand, and the familiar click of the cap makes my breath catch. His movements are deliberate, careful, but there’s an urgency in the way his hands shake slightly. “Ready?” he asks, and I nod, spreading my legs wider in invitation.
His preparation is thorough, gentle but insistent, and I lose myself in the sensation. I reach up to trace the planes of his chest, the light-brown hairs, those two pink buds I want to suck into peaks.
“Please,” I whisper, and he understands exactly what I’m asking for. He positions himself, and then finally,finallyhe’s pushing inside me, slow and steady. The stretch and burn is exactly what I want, what I need, and I can’t help the moan that escapes me.
“God, Caspian.” He groans, his forehead pressed against mine. “You feel amazing. So perfect.” His words send shivers down my spine, and I wrap my legs around his waist, drawing him deeper.
The first thrust is gentle, testing, but when I arch up to meet him, he takes it as the encouragement it is. Each movement builds on the last, creating a rhythm that has us both gasping. The bed creaks beneath us.
“Right there,” I gasp as he hits the perfect spot, and he angles his hips to hit it again and again and again. My fingers dig into his shoulders, probably leaving marks, but he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, his movements become more determined, more focused.
“Look at me,” he commands softly, and I force my eyes open to meet his gaze. The intensity I find there nearly undoes me.
His hand slides between us, wrapping around my cock with just the right pressure, and I cry out his name. “That’s it,” he encourages, his voice rough with exertion and emotion. “Let me hear you. Let me feel you.”
The dual sensation of his hand and his thrusts builds quickly, too quickly, but I can’t help it. Everything feels too good, too perfect, too much. “Nate,” I warn, “I’m close…”
“Me too.” He gasps, his rhythm faltering slightly. “Come for me, baby. Let me see you come undone.”
I nod, unable to form words as the pressure builds. Nate’s movements become more urgent, more desperate, and I match him thrust for thrust.
My orgasm hits me like a wave, intense and overwhelming. I cry out his name as my body tightens around him, and he follows me moments later, his hips stuttering as he comes deep inside me. The feeling is incredible, intimate in a way I’ve never experienced.
We collapse together, both breathing hard, our bodies slick with sweat. Nate’s careful not to crush me as he settles half on top of me, his face buried in my neck. I can feel his heart racing against my chest, matching the rapid beat of my own.
“You are so fucking amazing, Caspian,” he says.
We lie there for a moment, catching our breath, letting our heart rates slow.
Finally, he lifts his head to look at me, and the softness in his expression makes my chest tight. “I don’t think I can ever go back to anything that isn’t this.”
I pull him down for a gentle kiss. “I like that arrangement.”
He smiles against my lips, then shifts slightly, causing us to gasp at the oversensitivity. “Shower?” he suggests, and I nod, though neither of us makes any immediate moves to get up.
