"Oh." I nearly came off the bed. "What was that?"
"There?" He did it again, and I cried out. "Good?"
"God. Yes. Please, don't stop."
He worked that spot until I was writhing, until words stopped making sense and all I could do was feel. The pleasure built in waves, cresting higher each time, and I was so close, so impossibly close.
"Please." The word tore out of me. "Vance, I need you."
"I know." He withdrew his fingers, and I whined at the loss. "I've got you."
The sound of foil tearing. The slick of lube. Then the blunt pressure of him against my entrance, and for one terrifying moment, I thought this won't work, he's too big, it's going to hurt.
"Breathe," he said, and pushed in slowly.
The stretch was intense, right on the edge of too much, my body struggling to accommodate him. But he gave me time, inch by inch, pausing whenever I tensed, letting me adjust. Gradually, the burn transformed into something else: fullness, completion, the sense of finally being whole.
"Okay?" he asked when he was fully seated.
I couldn't speak. He was inside me, filling me completely, and the intimacy was overwhelming. This man I had wanted for so long, who I thought didn't want me back, was inside my body, looking at me like I was the most precious thing he'd ever seen.
"Tobias?" Concern crept into his voice. "Talk to me."
"I'm okay." The words came out thick with emotion. "I'm more than okay. You feel..." I struggled to find the words. "I didn't know it could feel like this."
"Like what?"
"Like finally being where I belong."
His expression softened. He leaned down and kissed me, slow and deep, and when he started to move, I moved with him.
The rhythm was slow at first, letting me adjust to the sensation, but my body wanted more. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he groaned against my neck.
"You feel so good." His voice was wrecked. "You're so perfect."
"Harder." I dug my nails into his back. "I won't break."
He gave me what I asked for, driving deeper and faster, hitting that spot inside me with every thrust. The pleasure built until I couldn't tell where I ended and he began. We were just bodies moving together, breaths mingling, sweat-slick skin sliding against skin.
"I'm close," I gasped. "Vance, I'm going to..."
He wrapped his hand around my cock and stroked, and I shattered. The orgasm tore through me, whiting out everything except the feel of him inside me, his hand on me, his voice in my ear saying my name like it was sacred.
I felt him follow moments later, the stutter of his hips, the warmth flooding inside me, the broken sound he made as he came.
Afterward, we lay tangled together in silence.
My head rested on his chest while his fingers traced patterns on my back. I felt his heartbeat under my cheek, gradually slowing from its racing pace.
"I cried," I said eventually. "After. That's normal, right?"
I felt him tense. "Did I hurt you?"
"No." I pressed closer. "I think I was just overwhelmed. I didn't know it could be like that. I didn't know I was allowed to have something that felt that good."
His arms tightened around me. "You're allowed. You're allowed to have anything you want."
"Right now I just want this." I tilted my head up to look at him. "Is that enough?"
