I wrap my hand around myself, already slick with precum, and it only takes a few strokes. I've been on edge too long, wound too tight, and watching him fuck me, feeling him bare inside me—
"Ash, I'm—"
"Do it. Come for me. Show me who you belong to."
I come so hard my vision whites out. Pulse after pulse, spilling over my hand and my stomach, clenching around him while he fucks me through it. I hear myself saying his name, over and over, like a prayer.
"Fuck, that's—" His rhythm stutters, hips losing their precision. "So beautiful when you come. My perfect boy. Mine."
He slams in deep and holds, grinding against me, and I feel him spill inside me—hot and wet, filling me up. His whole body shakes with it, a groan ripped from somewhere deep in his chest.
For a long moment, neither of us moves. Just breathing, trembling, trying to remember how to exist. He's still inside me,softening slowly, and I don't want him to pull out. Don't want to lose this feeling of being full of him.
Eventually he slips free, and I feel his come leak out of me. He looks down between us and makes a low, satisfied sound.
"Fuck, that's hot," he mutters. "Look at you. All messy with my come."
"You're filthy."
"You love it."
I really do.
He collapses beside me, chest heaving, and pulls me against him immediately. Like he can't stand not touching me for even a second.
"Jesus Christ," he says to the ceiling.
I huff a breathless laugh. "Yeah."
He turns his head to look at me, and his expression has gone soft. Tender. The predator intensity replaced by something I haven't seen before.
"C'mere."
He arranges us so I'm tucked under his arm, my head on his shoulder. His hand strokes up and down my back, soothing over skin that still feels electric.
"You okay?" he asks.
"More than okay." I press a kiss to his shoulder, right where it meets his neck. Taste salt. "That was incredible."
"Wasn't too rough?"
"It was perfect." I lift my head to look at him. "You don't have to check on me every time. I'm not fragile."
"I know you're not." His hand comes up to touch my jaw, tilting my face toward him. "But you're mine now. That means I take care of you. That means I check."
I like hearing that more than I should. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." He kisses me, soft and sweet, nothing like the desperate claiming from before. "Stay. Tonight and tomorrow and as long as you want."
"What if I want to stay a while?"
"Then stay a while."
"What if I want to stay longer than that?"
He's quiet for a moment, and I think I've pushed too far, asked for too much too soon. But then he pulls me closer, his arms tightening around me.
"Then stay longer than that," he says. "Stay as long as you'll have me."
