“Okay.” I look at Ben. “You ready?”
He’s still pale, but his jaw is set. “Yeah. I’m ready.”
“Ben?” Tessa reaches for him, her voice thin with pain. “Will you...”
“Whatever you need.” He takes her hand, kisses her palm. “I’ve got you.”
I ease back, giving them space. Elijah does the same, moving to sit against the wall where he can watch without crowding.
Ben strips off his clothes—jeans, shirt, boxers—and I catch Tessa’s reaction. Her eyes go wide, her lips parting, her scent spiking with fresh arousal despite her exhaustion.
“Ben.” She reaches for him. “Please. Need you.”
“I know.” He settles between her thighs, and I watch his face change as he takes in the sight of her. “Fuck, Tessa. You’re drenched.”
“Please.” She pulls at him. “Now.”
He positions himself at her entrance. Hesitates.
“Ben.” Her voice is urgent. “Please.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” His jaw is tight. “You’re already... we’ve already...”
“You won’t hurt me.” She cups his face, makes him look at her. “I need you. Please, Ben. I need you inside me.”
He pushes in.
The sound he makes is wrecked—a groan that seems to come from somewhere deep in his chest. His eyes flutter closed, his whole body shuddering as her pussy envelops him.
“Fuck.” His voice cracks. “Tessa. You feel... I can’t...”
“Move.” She’s already rocking against him. “Please, Ben.”
“Yeah.” He starts to thrust, clumsy at first, then finding his rhythm. “Yeah, I’ve got you.”
It’s not performative—just two people lost in each other. Ben’s making sounds I’ve never heard from him, and Tessa’s meeting him thrust for thrust, her nails raking down his back.
“Harder,” she begs. “Please.”
“Don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t. I can take it. Ben, please.”
He gives her what she wants. The sounds filling the nest are obscene—wet slapping and desperate moans, the creak of the bed frame, Tessa’s breathless cries.
“You feel so good,” he’s saying, “so tight. Fuck, Tessa, your pussy’s perfect. I’m not going to last.”
“Your knot.” She’s gasping, her back arching. “Can feel it swelling.”
“Yeah.” His rhythm falters, his control slipping. “Do you want it? Want my knot?”
“Yes. Please, Ben. Lock me.”
He slams into her one last time, his knot catching at her rim, stretching her, then popping inside with a wet sound that makes my cock twitch. They both cry out—his voice rough and broken, hers high and desperate—and then they’re locked together, shaking through their orgasms.
“Ben.” Her voice is wrecked. Just his name. Just relief.
Elijah catches my eye, and I see my own emotions reflected back. Pride. Hope. The beginning of something that could last.
