When he pulled back, his eyes were red but steady.
“Take me to bed,” he said.
I didn’t need to be asked twice.
Tanner was kissing me like he was starving for it the entire way to my room, hands everywhere, pulling at my shirt until I helped him yank it over my head. His mouth found my neck, my collarbone, the sensitive spot below my ear that made me groan.
“Slow down,” I managed. “We’ve got time.”
“Don’t want slow.” He bit down on my shoulder, and my knees almost buckled. “Want to feel you. Want to forget everything except this.”
I understood. After ten days of distance, of monitoring and managing and pretending, he needed to let go. Needed something raw and real to ground him back in his body.
But I also knew what he really needed—not just release, but permission. Permission to stop being strong. Permission to fall apart with someone who would catch him.
I pushed him onto the bed and crawled over him, pinning his wrists above his head. He arched up, testing my grip, and the way his breath caught made heat pool low in my stomach.
“You’ve been holding everything together for ten days,” I said, lowering my mouth to his jaw. “Taking care of me. Making sure I was okay.” I kissed down his throat, felt his pulse hammering against my lips. “Now it’s my turn to take care of you.”
A sound escaped him—something raw and wanting. His hips rolled up against mine, seeking friction, but I held him down.
“Tell me what you need,” I said.
“You.” His voice cracked. “Just you. All of you.”
I took my time undressing him. Peeled off his shirt slowly, pressing kisses to each inch of skin I revealed. His chest, his ribs, the soft trail of hair below his navel. He squirmed beneath me, hands grasping at the sheets, but I didn’t let him rush me.
“Seth—” My name came out desperate. “Please.”
“I’ve got you.” I unbuttoned his jeans, dragged them down along with his boxers. His cock sprang free, flushed and hard, already leaking at the tip. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I wrapped my hand around him, stroking slowly, watching his face. His head fell back against the pillow, mouth dropping open on a moan that sounded like it had been building for days. I could feel all of it in the way he trembled beneath my touch.
“That’s it,” I murmured. “Let go.”
I kissed down his chest, his stomach, the sharp jut of his hipbone. When I finally took him into my mouth, the sound he made was almost a sob—relief and pleasure and something that had been wound too tight finally snapping.
His fingers threaded through my hair, not guiding, just holding on. I worked him slow, savoring the weight of him on my tongue, the way his thighs shook when I took him deeper. Every sound he made felt like proof—proof that I could give him this, could be the person he let go with.
“Fuck, your mouth—” His hips stuttered, fighting the urge to thrust. I held him down with one hand splayed across his stomach, the other reaching lower to tease at his entrance. "Wait—fuck, wait—" His hand tugged at my hair. "Not yet. Want you inside me when I come."
I pulled off and he whimpered at the loss, hips chasing my mouth. He was trembling all over now, chest heaving, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. Not from pain—from the overwhelming release of everything he’d been holding back.
I crawled back up his body, kissing the tears from his cheeks. “Still with me?”
“Yeah.” His voice was wrecked. “Need more. Need you inside me.”
I reached for the nightstand, found the lube. He spread his legs wider, making room for me, and the trust in that gesture—the way he opened himself to me without hesitation—made me want to shield him from everything that had ever hurt him.
I slicked my fingers, circled his hole slowly. He was already so worked up, so desperate, that the first finger slid in easy. He gasped, back arching, hands fisting in the sheets.
“More,” he demanded. “I can take it.”
I gave him another finger, working him open while he writhed and begged. Every sound he made went straight to my cock—the broken moans, the way he chanted my name like a prayer. When I crooked my fingers and found that spot inside him, he nearly came off the bed.
“There. Fuck. Right there.”
I rubbed against it, relentless, watching him fall apart. His cock was leaking steadily against his stomach, untouched, and I knew he was close. Could feel it in the way his muscles clenched around my fingers, the way his breathing had gone ragged and desperate.
