"More than okay. Keep going."
The first finger breached me slowly. I breathed through the stretch, watched his face—the concentration, the wonder, the arousal darkening his grey eyes.
"You're so tight," he murmured. "So hot inside. I can feel you?—"
"More."
He added a second finger, and I bit my lip against a groan. It had been a while. The stretch burned, but underneath was pleasure building like a wave.
"There's a spot," I managed. "Curl your fingers. Find it."
He searched, adjusted, and then?—
"Fuck—" My back arched off the bed. "There. Right there."
He worked that spot ruthlessly, learning what made me gasp and writhe. By the time he added a third finger, I was shaking, my cock leaking onto my abs, desperate for more.
"Axel. I'm ready. Please."
He withdrew his fingers, and I felt the loss like an ache. Watched him slick his rock-hard cock with trembling hands. Watched him position himself between my spread thighs, the head of him pressing against my entrance.
"If it hurts?—"
"It won't. I want this." I gripped his hips, pulled him forward. "I wantyou."
He pushed in.
Slow. So slow. Inch by inch, letting me adjust, watching my face for any sign of pain. I breathed through it—the fullness, the stretch, the overwhelming sensation of being opened by him. He was big, bigger than anyone I'd been with, and by the time he bottomed out, I felt claimed in ways that went beyond physical.
"Kai." His voice was wrecked. "You feel—I can't?—"
"Move," I told him. "Please, Axel. Move."
He pulled back, thrust forward, and we both groaned.
It was clumsy at first. He couldn't find a rhythm, went too fast, then too slow, then angled wrong. But I guided him with my hands, my hips, my whispered instructions, and soon—soon he was fucking me like he'd been doing it forever.
Deep strokes that hit my prostate on every pass. His hands pinning my wrists above my head. His mouth on my neck, myjaw, my lips. The wet sound of our bodies meeting, the creak of the bed, his ragged breathing in my ear.
"You're mine," he growled, punctuating each word with a thrust. "Say it."
"Yours," I gasped. "I'm yours, Axel?—"
"No one else." His pace increased, driving, relentless. "No one touches you. No one has you like this. Just me."
"Just you. Only you.Please?—"
He shifted his angle, went deeper, and I shattered.
My hands-free orgasm ripped through me untouched—cock pulsing between our bodies, release painting both our chests and abs. I clenched around him, heard him curse, felt him bury himself to the hilt and follow me over the edge.
He came with my name on his lips. Collapsed against me, both of us trembling, sweat-slicked and gasping. For a long moment, neither of us moved.
"That was—" He couldn't finish.
"Yeah." I pressed a kiss to his temple. "It was."
He slipped out of me carefully, rolled to my side, pulled me against his chest. His heart was still racing, his breath still uneven. But when I looked at his face, I saw peace. "Thank you," he murmured.
