The air between us hums with it—skin against skin, breath against breath. Every drag of his cock feels like a promise, every push a confession neither of us has said out loud yet.
“I’m close,” I manage, hips lifting to meet him.
He whimpers, sliding a hand between us, fisting my cock. When his thumb drags through my slit, I choke on a cry. He pulls back enough to watch my face, and fuck, he looks ruined—hair wild, eyes blown, mouth open like he’s trying to remember how to breathe.
“I want you to come all over me.”
That does it. Gabe Shaw giving me dirty talk. I never stood a chance.
When it crests, it isn’t just pleasure, it’s release, relief, every unspoken word between us finding its way out through touch. He buries his face against my neck, breathing me in. My vision whites out as the pleasure rolls over me in waves—hard, electric, unstoppable. I spill between us, gasping his name. And through it all, he keeps moving, gentle now, like he’s rocking me through the aftershocks.
My hole spasms around him as my climax goes on and on. I feel him tense above me, lips open against my neck in a silent scream as he releases into the condom. My fantasies run away with themselves, imagining how it would feel to have him come inside me, nothing between us. It makes me groan, and my hole clenches again, making Gabe shudder in my hold.
When it’s over, neither of us moves. His breath fans against my neck as I trace lines up his back, memorizing the tremors in him, the way he clings to me. This perfect moment.
We hold each other as we come down from the impossible high—like we’re learning how to exist in this new space between us. The air smells like sweat and skin and us.
He finally lifts his head, eyes searching mine, worry flickering at the edges. “Was that okay?” he asks, voice uncertain.
I give him a lazy grin, the kind that comes when everything inside you feels right for once. “More than okay, baby. It was everything I always dreamed of. You were perfect.”
The relief and smile that cross his face undo me all over again. He leans in, and the kiss he gives me is soft, grateful. The first inhale after surfacing. I cradle his face and kiss him back, tasting him, feeling his warmth and everything that meansus.
When we part, his forehead rests against mine. I run my thumb over the scar on his cheek, and he exhales a shaky laugh. Then a yawn.
“Guess I wore you out,” I whisper, teasing gently.
He hums, eyes closing.
After a few minutes, he moves back and starts to ease out of me slowly. I hiss through my teeth, and he looks at me with concern. “Did I hurt you?” The panic in his voice is clear, sweet boy.
“I’m good, just a little tender—but totally worth it to have that beast inside me,” I say with a wink, folding my arms behind my head.
He laughs, but when he goes to get up, I grab his wrist lightly. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Uh… to clean us up?”
“Nope.” I tap the space beside me. “That’s my job. Lie down.”
“But…” He looks so confused.
“But what, baby?”
“I should be the one to clean us up because I’m the one that…well, you know.”
Seriously, how is he this cute?
“Fucked me good?” I supply, and his face flames.
“Noah,” he groans, but his shoulders start shaking. “I should be the one taking care of you.”
“Okay, how’s this,” I start. “I’ll clean us up, because I love taking care of you that way. It makes us both feel good, right?”
He nods, smiling shyly.
I continue on, “And when we get into bed, you could hold me. Play with my hair. I love it when you do that. It makes me feel cared for.” I peck his lips lightly. “And if you’re not too tired, you could read to me?”
His whole face softens as he nods again.
