"I want you to touch me," I said. "I want to feel your fingers inside me. I want you to make me come."
He groaned like I'd just broken something inside him.
"Anything you want, baby. Anything."
His fingers slid through my slick folds, and we both gasped. Me at the sensation, him at what he found.
"So wet," he breathed. "Already so wet for me."
His thumb found my clit, circling it slowly, and my hips bucked against his hand.
"That's it," he murmured, his mouth finding mine again. "Let me make you feel good."
He kissed me deeply as his fingers explored, learning me all over again. One finger teased my entrance, circling, pressing, but not quite entering, and I whimpered with need.
"Hudson, please. I need—"
"I know what you need."
He slid one finger inside me, and I moaned into his mouth. He was slow, deliberate, letting me adjust, letting me feel every inch of the intrusion.
"More," I begged.
He added a second finger, stretching me, filling me, and I felt my inner walls clench around him. His thumb kept working my clit as his fingers pumped in and out, setting a rhythm that had me climbing toward the edge embarrassingly fast.
"That's it, baby," he said against my ear, his breath hot on my skin. "I can feel you getting close. I can feel you tightening around my fingers."
"Don't stop," I gasped. "Please don't stop."
"Fuck no honey." He curled his fingers inside me, hitting that spot that made stars explode behind my eyes. "I'm never stopping. I'm never leaving you again. You're mine, Betty. You've always been mine."
His words pushed me over the edge.
The orgasm hit me like a tidal wave, crashing through me with an intensity that bordered on painful. I cried out his name, my nails digging into his shoulders, my whole body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through me.
Hudson worked me through it, his fingers never stopping, drawing out every last tremor until I was gasping beneath him.
"Beautiful," he whispered, pressing soft kisses to my forehead, my cheeks, the corner of my mouth. "So fucking beautiful when you come."
I lay there, trying to catch my breath, my body still tingling with aftershocks. Hudson's fingers slipped out of me, and I immediately missed the fullness.
He kissed me softly. "We have a lot of years to make up for."
I could feel him against my thigh, still hard, still wanting. My hand drifted down his chest, toward his waistband, but he caught my wrist.
"Not yet," he said, and I could hear the strain in his voice. "This was about you."
"But you?"
"I'm fine." He brought my hand to his lips and kissed my palm. "I've been wanting to do that for ten years. Trust me, I got plenty out of it."
"Hudson." I pulled him down for another kiss. "I want to touch you. I want to make you feel as good as you just made me feel."
"You will." He smiled against my mouth. "But not right now. Right now, I just want to hold you."
He shifted us so that I was tucked against his side, my head on his chest, my leg thrown over his. Just like we'd been when we woke up, except now we were both half-naked and my body was still humming with pleasure.
"This changes things," I said quietly.
