I pulled my fingers out slowly, watched him shudder at the loss. Rolled on the condom and slicked myself up, my cock so hard it ached. I positioned myself at his entrance and pressed in, inch by inch, watching his face.
His mouth fell open. His eyes fluttered closed. His body opened for me like it was made for this, hot and tight and perfect.
“God—” His voice cracked. “Hold on—you feel—”
I bottomed out and held still, my whole body shaking with the effort of not moving. He was clenched so tight around me I could barely think, barely breathe. I lowered my forehead to his shoulder and just breathed, waiting for him to adjust.
“Tell me when,” I managed, my voice rough.
His legs wrapped around my waist, ankles crossing at the small of my back. His hands found my shoulders, pulling me down.
“Now,” he said. “Move. Please.”
I moved.
Slow at first, long strokes that made us both shudder. Pulling almost all the way out, then pressing back in, filling him completely. His hands slid up my back, nails dragging across my skin, pulling me closer, urging me deeper.
“Harder,” he gasped. “I need you, baby. I want to feel you tomorrow.”
Something cracked open in my chest.
I gave him what he wanted. Fucked him harder, deeper, the bed frame creaking as it hit the wall with every thrust. His nails raked down my back, leaving marks I'd feel for days, and Iwanted them. Wanted the evidence. Wanted something to prove this had been real when he was gone.
Remember this.The thought pulsed through me with every thrust.Remember how he sounds. Remember how his body opens for you. Remember how he says your name like it's the only word he knows.
“Holden,” His voice was broken, desperate. “Right there—fuck, don't stop—”
I shifted my angle, lifting his legs over my shoulders and found that spot inside him. His whole body lit up. His cock had filled again between us, hard and leaking against his stomach. I wrapped my hand around him, stroking in time with my thrusts.
“Come for me,” I said against his ear, low and rough. “I want to feel you come on my cock.”
He shattered.
His whole body locked up, clenching so tight around me I saw stars. His cock pulsed in my hand, spilling hot between us, and the sight of him, the sound of him crying out my name, it pushed me over the edge.
I buried myself deep and came with a groan that felt like it was torn from somewhere deep inside. The pleasure whited out everything else, the fear, the doubt, the ticking clock. Just him. Just me. Just this.
Afterward, we lay tangled together in my narrow bed.
His head on my chest. My arm around his waist. The snow was still falling outside, visible through the gap in the curtains, and the room felt hushed. Suspended. Like the world had paused to let us have this moment.
I wanted to stay here forever. Wanted to freeze this night and live in it, where nothing had ended yet and everything was still possible.
“I need to go soon.” His voice was soft against my skin. “The girls.”
I could ask him to stay. Tell him the dogs would be fine until morning, that I'd walk him home at dawn, that I wanted him here in my bed for as long as I could have him.
The words lodged in my throat. Same place they always did.
“Okay,” I said instead.
He didn't move. Neither did I. We lay there in the quiet, snow falling outside, and I held onto him as long as I could.
Eventually he stirred. Pressed a kiss to my chest, just over my heart. Untangled himself and sat on the edge of the bed.
I watched him gather his clothes. The line of his back in the dim light. The way he moved through my space like he belonged there, reaching for his jeans without having to look, knowing exactly where they'd landed. My hand itched to reach out and pull him back.
At the bedroom door, he paused. Looked back at me, something unreadable in his expression. Vulnerable. Waiting.
