I froze, breath catching. “You sure?”
He looked back over his shoulder, eyes blown wide, mouth open, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. “I need you rough. I need you to fuck me like you’ve been wanting to since the first time you touched me.”
Something inside me snapped.
“Then hold on,” I growled.
I pulled back just enough to thrust forward again, harder this time, setting a steady, unforgiving rhythm. Michael cried out, the sound raw and perfect, hips pushing back to meet every thrust like he couldn’t get enough. The bed creaked beneath us, the wet slap of skin filling the room.
“Fuck,” I panted, hands bruising his hips as I drove into him. “You take me so well. Look at you—open and greedy and begging for more.”
“Yes,” he gasped, forehead pressed to the mattress. “Just like that—don’t stop?—”
I didn’t. I fucked him harder, deeper, letting myself lose control, letting months of restraint burn away with every snap of my hips. My cock dragged deep inside him, stretching him wide, and every time I bottomed out he moaned like it hit something deep and essential.
“You feel that?” I snarled, leaning over him, teeth scraping over his shoulder. “That’s me. That’s what you’ve been waiting for.”
His body shook beneath me, cock leaking onto the sheets, muscles clenching tight around me. “I want you to fill me,” he said, voice breaking. “I want you to breed me. I want to feel you everywhere.”
The words went straight to my spine.
“Yeah?” I thrust harder, one hand sliding around to grab his cock, stroking him rough in time with my thrusts. “You want my cum inside you? Want to carry it with you, feel it drip out of you later?”
He sobbed, pushing back desperately. “Yes—please—Daniel?—”
I pulled his hair back, forcing his head up just enough so he couldn’t hide from how badly he wanted this. “You’re mine,” I said, voice low and shaking with it. “Mine to fuck. Mine to fill. You’re taking everything I give you.”
I pounded into him, relentless now, the sound obscene, the heat unbearable. His body was slick with sweat, his breath ragged, his whole focus on the way I was fucking him apart.
“Fuck—Michael?—”
I eased out just enough to feel him whine, then pulled him back against me, arms wrapping around his chest, keeping him close. He was still open, still warm, still shaking from everything we’d just done, and the way he trusted me with that—let me move him, guide him—hit harder than the need ever could.
“Hey,” I murmured against his neck, softer now, breath warm. “I’ve got you.”
He nodded, boneless, letting me shift us. I rolled him onto his side first, then tugged him back until his back was pressed to my chest, my cock sliding back into him with a slow, deep push that drew a broken sound from his throat. His hand cameback to grip my wrist, not to stop me—never to stop me—just to anchor himself.
“That okay?” I asked, even as my hips started to rock, unhurried, deep.
“Yes,” he breathed immediately. “More than okay. Please—don’t stop.”
I didn’t.
I fucked him slow and deep like that, spooned close, one hand splayed over his stomach, the other bracing his thigh as I worked my way back into a steady rhythm. Every thrust pushed him just a little farther forward, just a little deeper into the mattress, and every time I bottomed out he gasped, body tightening around me like he wanted to keep me there forever.
“You feel so good,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, his neck, the shell of his ear. “So open for me. So perfect.”
He made a soft, helpless sound, pushing back against me without even realizing it. “I feel you everywhere,” he said. “I don’t ever want this to stop.”
I smiled against his skin and rolled us again, changing angles, lifting his leg over my hip and pulling him back until he was half on his stomach, half on his side—open, pliant, beautiful. I slid back in slowly, deliberately, watching the way his breath stuttered, the way his fingers clenched in the sheets.
“That’s it,” I praised, voice low and steady. “Let me take care of you. You don’t have to do anything right now. Just feel me.”
I picked up the pace then—not frantic, not rough, but deep and sure, every thrust purposeful. My hand slid under him, stroking his cock gently, coaxing him back up without rushing him. He arched into my touch, gasping, every sound wrecked and honest.
“Daniel,” he whispered, like it was the only word he had left.
I leaned over him, caging him in, mouth at his ear. “I know. I’ve got you. You’re safe. You’re mine right now.”
