"You have me." My voice came out rough. "All of me."
He stroked me once, root to tip, and I groaned. "I know. And I'm going to make sure you know it too."
Then his mouth was on me.
He started with his tongue—licking up the underside, swirling around the head, dipping into the slit to taste the precum. I grabbed the couch cushions, forcing myself not to thrust into the wet heat of his mouth.
He took me deeper, hollowing his cheeks and sucking, his head bobbing in a steady rhythm. He'd learned what I liked—the way I couldn't handle it when he hummed around me, the way a hand on my balls drove me wild. He used every trick he knew, working me until I was shaking.
"Fuck—Tobias—" I fisted my hand in his hair. "I'm gonna come if you don't stop."
He pulled off with a wet pop, kissed my hip and stomach, and worked his way back up my body until we were face to face.
"Good." He ground his hips against me, and I realized he was still fully dressed while I was naked beneath him. "Because I want you inside me when you come."
He stripped off his shirt first.
I'd seen his body before—learned every inch of it over the past weeks. But watching him undress for me, the deliberate way he peeled off each layer, still made my mouth go dry.
He stood to shuck off his jeans. His cock jutted out, hard and flushed, and I reached for him without thinking.
"No." He caught my wrist and pinned it back against the cushion. "Tonight you don't do anything. You just feel."
"Tobias—"
"I mean it." He straddled me again, both of us naked now, our cocks brushing together. The friction made me hiss. "You've spent your whole life taking care of everyone else. Let me take care of you."
He reached for the lube on the side table—when had he put that there?—and slicked up his fingers.
"Watch me," he said.
He reached behind himself. I couldn't see what his fingers were doing, but I could see the effect—the way his breath caught, theway his cock twitched, the way his eyes went half-lidded as he opened himself.
"Does it feel good?" The words came out rougher than I intended.
"Yeah." He added a second finger, and his head fell back. "God, yeah. I'm thinking about you—about how you're going to feel inside me—"
"Christ." I gripped his thighs. "You're going to kill me."
"That's the plan." A third finger now. He was panting, rocking back against his own hand, his cock dripping onto my stomach. "Want you so bad. Want to feel you for days."
"Then take me. I'm yours."
He pulled his fingers out, grabbed the lube again, and slicked up my cock—long, slow strokes that had me gritting my teeth.
Then he positioned himself over me, notching the head of my cock against his entrance.
And sank down.
The heat of him was overwhelming.
He took me slow—inch by inch, letting himself adjust, his hands braced on my chest. I watched his face, the pleasure andstretch crossing his features, his mouth falling open as he finally bottomed out.
"God." His voice was wrecked. "You feel so good. So fucking full."
"Move." My hands gripped his hips hard enough to bruise. "Please, Tobias. I need—"
He started to rock.
