He stays buried deep, grinding his hips with slow, deliberate strokes, making sure I take every last drop.Sealing it inside me, claiming me with every pulse.
My body trembles beneath him, every aftershock rolling through me while my thighs cling to his waist and my clit throbs, over sensitive and aching.
Our chests press together, slick with sweat, both of us panting like we just survived something violent and holy all at once.
And when I finally blink the haze from my eyes, he’s there.Hovering over me.Gaze locked to mine.Still inside me, still fucking me, slow, careful.
He’s not just fucking me anymore.He’s looking at me.Really looking at me.
His eyes burn into mine, still wild and intense.But now there’s something else.Something open.Something unspoken.Like he’s laid every broken, bloodied part of himself bare and handed it to me without a word.
“You feel that?”he whispers, his thumb brushing across my cheek, treating me as if I’m something sacred.“This…right here… this is us.”
I feel it in the way he’s still moving inside me, like he’s trying to hold the moment still. I feel it in the stretch of my body, the throb in my cunt, the sweat on my skin. I feel it in him.In everything he’s not saying, but giving me anyway.
And for the first time, I see him.Not just the man who fucked me senseless.Not just the brutal hands and the savage cock and the need. I see the man beneath it all.The one who never thought he could give a piece of himself to anyone.But he just gave me everything.
The one who’s been loving me in silence all along… even as the world twisted him into something he never asked to be.
“Matteo,” I whisper, my voice shaking, stripped bare in away I never let anyone see.
He leans in, rests his forehead against mine.His cock still inside me.
“I fucking love you, Em,” he breathes into my mouth.“Always have.Every second.Every breath.Even when I shouldn’t.”
My heart splits open.Because when I meet his eyes, it’s not hunger staring back.Not anger.Not the violence he’s been carrying like armor.It’s him.
The man beneath all the wreckage.The one who’s always been there, just waiting to be seen.
“I love you,” I whisper back.Every wall gone.Every truth laid bare.“God help me, Matteo… I always have.”
He kisses me, the only language he’s ever been fluent in.His hips keep slowly rolling into me, each thrust a silent promise, the only way he knows how to hold me together.
And that’s when I know.
This isn’t about erasing the past.
This is about surviving it.
This is about choosing each other, when everything else has tried to tear us apart.
Because somehow, through every scar, every broken promise, every mistake… we’re still here.Still breathing.Still us.
He stays buried in me, letting me feel him.Letting me feel safe.His forehead against mine, our chests rising and falling like we’re one heartbeat.
Then slowly he moves.Pulls out of me, and the drag of his cock leaves me aching, empty, still wet and dripping.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, eyes locked on the mess between my legs.“Fucking dripping with me.Just like you should be.”
He leans in and kisses the curve of my stomach.Then lower.His mouth trailing over my skin until he’s between my thighs again.
By the time he gets there, I’m already shaking, legs falling open on instinct, silently begging for whatever he’s about to give me.
He spreads me wide and stares down at the wreck he made of me like he’s fucking proud of it.
“You’re not wasting a single drop,” he says.Then he pushes two fingers deep into me, shoving his cum right back inside.
His fingers fuck into me with a rhythm that borders on filthy, his mouth locked on my clit, starving for me all over again.
