Oh.
Oh, God.
He’s inside me. Completely, utterly inside me, filling me in a way I didn’t know was possible. The burn fades, replaced by a deep, aching fullness, and I moan, my hips lifting to meet his.
“Fuck, you feel incredible,” Aaron groans, his forehead pressing to mine. His cock twitches inside me, and I gasp at the sensation. “So tight. So perfect.”
He starts to move.
His thrusts are shallow at first, his hips rolling into mine with a slow, deliberate rhythm. Each slide of his cock drags against something deep inside me, sending sparks of pleasure skittering through my nerves. I moan, my head tilting back, my hands roaming over his back, his shoulders, anywhere I can reach.
“More,” I gasp. “I need… more!”
Aaron groans, his control snapping. His thrusts deepen, his cock pounding into me with a rhythm that steals my breath. The bed creaks beneath us, the sound lost beneath my moans, his grunts, the wet slap of skin on skin.
“Touch yourself,” he commands, his voice rough. “I want to see you come.”
This time I don’t hesitate. He has set off a fire in me that has burned away all my shyness and anxiety. I trust him. I. Trust. Him.
My hand slides between us, my fingers finding my clit. The first touch is electric, and I cry out, my body tightening around Aaron’s cock.
“That’s it,” he growls, his thrusts becoming frantic. “Just like that. Come for me, Eve. Come now.”
My orgasm crashes over me like a wave, my body shuddering, my pussy clenching around his cock. Aaron groans, his hips stuttering as he follows me over the edge, his release spilling inside the condom.
We collapse together, our breaths ragged, our skin slick with sweat. Aaron rolls onto his side, pulling me into his arms, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin.
The future hangs between us, unspoken.
But for now, in this moment, it doesn’t matter.
Morning comes slowly.
Light presses through the curtains, soft and hazy, and for a moment I can’t quite remember where I am. Then I feel it—the steady rhythm of breathing behind me, the warmth of an arm draped around my waist, the faint weight of a hand resting against my stomach.
Aaron.
He’s still asleep, his breath brushing against the back of my neck. Everything in me goes very still.
A thousand thoughts rush in at once, tripping over each other in their panic. I should move. I should slide out from under his arm, tiptoe back to my room, pretend this never happened. Pretend I’m still the same person who overthinks everything to death.
But I don’t move.
Because underneath the nerves, there’s something else. Something calm. Content. Safe.
I’ve never felt like this before—like I belong somewhere. Or with someone. The warmth of him at my back feels like the answer to a question I hadn’t realised I’d been asking for years.
I shift slightly, just enough to look at him. His face is softer in sleep, all the sharp edges smoothed away.
A part of me wants to stay here forever. The other part—the louder, nervous part—whispers that this is too much, too soon, too everything.
So I lie there, caught between both worlds, torn between running and reaching, trying to decide which version of myself I’ll be when he wakes.
Aaron stirs behind me, his arm tightening for a moment before he breathes out a sleepy laugh.
“I can feel you thinking,” he mumbles against my shoulder, voice rough with sleep.
I smile faintly. “That’s not a thing.”
