My cock twitches against my thigh, already trying to rally.
He strips off his jeans, and I watch, my gaze tracking down his body. He's gorgeous. Unfairly gorgeous. And his cock is hard and thick and I want it inside me so badly I can barely think.
"You're so fucking hot," I tell him. "It's honestly unfair."
"Says the man spread out on my bed looking like every fantasy I've ever had."
I flush, the heat spreading down my chest. "Flatterer."
"Truth teller." He finds the lube in the nightstand and settles between my thighs, nudging them further apart. "Still okay?"
"More than okay." I reach for him, pull him down for a kiss. "I want to feel you inside me."
He slicks his fingers and presses one against my entrance, circling gently. I'm tight—it's been weeks—and he goes slow.
"Relax," he murmurs against my mouth. "Let me in."
I take a breath, consciously unclenching, and his finger slides inside. Hot. Full. Perfect.
"More," I breathe.
"Patience."
"I don't have any patience. You sucked it out of me along with my brain cells."
He huffs a laugh against my throat and starts working his finger in and out, slow and steady, crooking it to find that spot. When he finds it, my whole body jerks.
"There," I gasp. "Oh fuck, right there—"
He adds a second finger, scissoring them gently, stretching me open while he rubs against my prostate. I'm fully hard again now, flushed and leaking.
"Knox, please." I'm rocking back against his hand. "I'm ready, I need—"
"One more." He adds a third finger, and I moan. "Want you to take me easy. Want this to feel good."
"It feels good." I'm panting, sweat beading on my temples. "It feels so good, but I want you. Please, Knox, I want your cock."
He pulls his fingers free—I whine at the loss—and slicks himself up. When he positions himself at my entrance, we both go still.
"Look at me," he says.
My eyes meet his. Gold-flecked in the dim light.
He pushes in.
Slow. So slow. I feel every inch of the stretch, my mouth falling open, my hands gripping his shoulders hard enough to bruise.
"Oh," I breathe. "Oh, Knox."
He keeps going until he's fully seated inside me. The fullness is incredible. The connection. The way he's looking at me like I'm the only thing in the world.
"Okay?" he manages. His voice sounds wrecked.
I nod and give him a broken little whine.
He pulls back and thrusts in, and we both groan. This is what I needed. What I've been missing. Not just the sex—the connection. The feeling of being completely, utterly claimed.
He sets a rhythm—deep, steady strokes that make me gasp every time he bottoms out. My legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his ass, urging him deeper. Harder.
