Steady.
Intentional.
Like he was learning every reaction my body gave him and using it on purpose.
A broken sound slipped from my lips, and his hands tightened on my thighs, holding me right there as he deepened the rhythm, refusing to let me escape the sensation.
By the time he stood back up, his breathing was heavier, his eyes darker than I’d ever seen them.
“Been needing this,” he whispered.
Before I could respond, he lifted me again, pressing me back against the wall, his mouth crashing into mine as he positioned himself between my thighs.
The moment he pushed into me, my breath caught hard in my throat.
I felt him fill me completely.
Overwhelming in the best way.
He stilled for half a second, his forehead pressing against mine, his hand tightening on my hip like he needed to ground himself.
Or maybe ground me.
Then he started moving.
Slow at first, deep and controlled, each thrust pulling a soft gasp from my lips as my body adjusted to him. My arms wrapped tighter around his shoulders, my fingers gripping into his skin as he kept that steady pace, like he wanted me to feel every inch of him.
“Stay right here,” he mumbled against my mouth, voice strained.
Like he meant it in more ways than one.
My body responded instinctively, lifting to meet him, matching his rhythm without thinking.
That did something to him.
His hands tightened against my flesh, his movements growing stronger, deeper, more demanding.
The sound of our bodies meeting filled the room, the wall at my back steadying me as he held me there, moving with a pace that made it impossible to focus on anything but him.
Only him.
Only the way he felt.
Only the way he held me like he wasn’t letting me go anywhere.
My fingers dug into his shoulders as the tension built inside me, tighter and tighter with every steady movement until it finally snapped, a breathless cry escaping before I could stop it.
The sound seemed to push him over the edge too.
His body went stiff against mine, his arms wrapping tight around me, pressing me into his chest as his breathing turned rough against my neck.
For a long moment, he didn’t move.
He just held me there.
Slowly, his hand slid up my back, like he needed to remind himself I was still present.
At some point, he lifted me again. My body felt loose, heavy, completely spent as I melted into him, cheek resting against his shoulder while he carried me across the living room.
