Instead, I lean into his hand. “Only for you.”
That seems to settle something in him. He pulls me forward, hands skimming up my sides until I’m kneeling over him, straddling his thighs. His fingers trail up my spine, slow and reverent, and then settle at the back of my neck.
“Let me?” he asks, voice low, breath catching like he’s not sure I’ll say yes.
I don’t even hesitate. “Always.”
He swallows hard. Then he kisses me like he’s drowning and I’m air. His hands hold me steady, controlling the pace, the pressure, the rhythm—until I melt into it, letting him take whatever he needs.
When he flips me onto my back, it isn’t rushed. It’s intentional. Gentle but firm. He kisses down my throat, over my chest, mapping a trail like he’s reclaiming every part of me I’ve given to him.
“I want to know how to make you fall apart,” he murmurs against my skin. “Not just once. Every time.”
“You already do,” I whisper, threading my fingers through his hair.
His hands slide lower, gripping my hips like I might disappear. His mouth follows, pressing kisses across my stomach before he looks back up at me.
“I want this to be good for you,” he says. “I want to take care of you.”
“You are,” I promise, cupping his jaw. “You always do.”
He closes his eyes, and I swear he shudders—like hearing that undid something in him.
Todd moves like he’s afraid to break me, even though we both know I’ve already broken for him.
He kisses my ribs next. The dip beneath my sternum. Little places no one’s ever paid attention to. His hands roam like he’s cataloging every mark that makes meme, and his mouth follows, soft and reverent.
I suck in a breath when he kisses the inside of my thigh right next to a scar I got from a skate blade years ago—just a brush of his lips, nothing demanding—and then looks up, eyes searching mine like he’s checking in.
When I watch him, he presses his lips higher on my thigh, nudging my legs wider. He wraps his fingers around me and strokes me once, before sliding lower, over my taint to my crack. All the while, he holds eye contact.
He swipes his tongue over his lower lip, and I swear I feel it in my balls.Jesus. I don’t bottom, but shit, I’m so going to for him.
My breath hitches as his fingers linger—teasing, testing, learning me in real time—and it takes everything in me not to squirm under the heat of his gaze.
He’s watching me like I’m a gift he’s slowly, reverently unwrapping. Like this is something sacred. Something he’s not taking for granted.
When he finally breaks eye contact, it’s only to reach for his bag at the side of the bed. He rummages for a second, then pulls out a small bottle of lube, giving it a shake like he’s making sure it’s full. My lips twitch. Of course he packed that.Captain Always Prepared.
“You okay?” he asks softly, settling between my kneesagain, tone quieter now. Like he’s ready to stop everything if I even blink the wrong way.
I nod. “Yeah. More than.”
But he doesn’t take the answer at face value. He crawls back up just enough to kiss me—slow and searching, like he’s making sure. His hand rests on my chest, feeling the thud of my heart, and I cover it with mine.
“I want this,” I whisper. “Wantyou.”
Something in him seems to ease at that. He kisses me again, then shifts back down, dragging his lips along my stomach on the way.
The first cool touch of lube makes me twitch, and I exhale shakily. He murmurs something low I can’t quite make out over the rushing of blood in my ears—but it sounds like praise. Gentle and warm and mine.
And when his finger circles me, slow and unhurried, I swear I feel it in my soul.
He takes his time. One finger, just enough pressure to make me gasp. Then he waits—lets me adjust, lets mewantmore. The stretch is unfamiliar, sure, but the way he touches me makes it feel less like giving something up and more like letting somethingin.
I fist the sheets as he adds a second finger, curling it just right, and the heat that flashes through me is so intense I let out a groan before I can bite it back.
“Still okay?” he murmurs, voice wrecked with restraint.
