I can’t stop.
He doesn’t let me.
His fingers stay inside, deep and pulsing, curling just enough to hold me there—right on the edge of bliss and wreckage—Driving me through it, past it,into something else entirely.
Too much.
Too good.
Too fucking perfect.
The second climax doesn’t tear through me; itignites.
White hot, like lightning splitting bone, so sharp and sudden my head tips back, hands flying out to the sheets like I need to hold on to something solid.
A raw, guttural sound rips free, and god, I swear I feel himgrinagainst me.
The world flickers, sound drops out, time stalls. For a breathless second, there’s nothing but the sparks pulsing between my legs and the pressure of his mouth on me.
Then—It softens, spreads, bleeding out from the centre of me, slow and molten. My limbs go loose, boneless, as if I’ve been untied from myself. Legs slipping from his shoulders, fingers unclenching from the sheets.
Still, he doesn’t move right away. He lingers, mouth brushing soft kisses along the inside of my thigh, coaxing the tension from me with every slow press.
Only when my lungs settle does he slip his fingers free, the drag over hypersensitive skin making my hips jolt. Then finally, he sits back, exhales, and the smile that pulls at the left corner of his mouth isn’t smug—it’s satisfied.
“Fuck.” He breathes, voice shredded as he drags a hand across his lips. “You coming around my mouth like that?” Jaw flexes, eyes ruined, wrecked. “I could’ve stayed there all night.”
The words land like a match to tinder.Need blooming low and fast as his gaze trails down my body, then back up. Without thinking, my thighs shift, opening wider against him, hips already aching again, despite everything he just gave me.
He watches the change—eyes darkening like he feels it too. Then he moves, easing over me, the mattress dips beneath his weight as his face comes level with mine. For a moment, he pauses, chest hovering just above me—broad, bare, rising hard with every inhale. I can feel the warmth of him radiating against my ribs.
“Are you sure?” He asks, shifting higher as his thumb brushes the corner of my mouth.
My chest tightens. I don’t nod, I reach for him instead—fingers dragging up his arms, nails grazing his skin.
“Yes,” I whisper, throat tight. “God, yes.”
I don’t want to wait any longer, I want him, all of him, now.
He fumbles with the button of his trousers, his hands shaking with need, and I can barely breathe as I watch him drag them off.
And then—with one long, hard, searing stroke, he thrusts into me.
My body arches up to take him, stretched and greedy, and the cry that rips from my throat is instantly swallowed by his mouth—tongue sliding over mine just as he drives back in, the thick, solid length of him filling me whole.
Fuck, I’m never going to get enough of this—of him. The shape. The stretch. The drag of every inch as he sinks in deep. Each stroke punching pleasure through me—molten, blood-roaring—dragging me under with every thrust.
One of his hands slides up behind my neck, fingers threading into my hair, coaxing my head back with a gentle tug. Then his mouth is on my throat—hot breath, grazing teeth, the edge of a bite—just as his hips snap forward, driving into me again.
“You feel so fucking good.” He moans against my skin, loud and raw, the sound ripping straight through me. “Tell me if it’s too much. If anything feels off, your magic... pull me back.”
“Don't you dare stop,” I gasp, “just, more, I need more?—”
His mouth curves against my throat, then he slams into me again, harder. I cry out, it’s deep and desperate as his body drives forward, every thrust a jolt of pleasure that rips up my spine and leaves me gasping for more.
“Right here?” He asks, pressing in further, until the friction catches in that maddening place that makes my vision narrow.
I gasp, voice breaking as his mouth trails lower, lips brushing over the swell of my breast. My nipples harden under the rough drag of his tongue.
