His hand grips my chin, tilting my face up.
"Look at me," he says. "I want to see your face when I fuck you."
Then he pushes inside.
Slow. Relentless. Stretching me around him inch by devastating inch. He's big—almost too much—and I gasp at the intrusion. He stops halfway, and I feel his control in the way his muscles are locked tight, the way his breathing has gone ragged.
"You okay?" The question is rough but genuine.
I nod, unable to speak.
"Good." He pushes deeper. "Because I'm not stopping."
He buries himself to the hilt and we both groan at the sensation. He fills me completely, so deep I feel him everywhere, and for a moment he just stays there. Letting me adjust. Letting me feel the full weight of him inside me.
Then he moves.
He pulls out slowly, almost all the way, before slamming back in. The force of it drives me up the floor and I grab onto his shoulders, nails digging in. He sets a punishing rhythm—deep, hard thrusts that hit exactly where I need them. Each one sends sparks through my nervous system. Each one makes me clench around him.
"Fuck," he breathes against my throat. "You feel incredible."
His hand slides between us, finding my clit, and I nearly come apart right then. I lose myself to the feeling of his cock filling me, hitting deep with every thrust, and his calloused fingers circling exactly where I need them.
"You're going to come again," he tells me. Not a request. A command.
I shake my head. I can't. It's too much.
"You will." His thumb presses harder, circles faster. "I can feel you getting tighter. Your body knows what it needs even if you don't."
He's right. The pressure is building impossibly fast, coiling low in my belly. Every thrust winds it tighter. I'm gasping, trembling, teetering on the edge.
"That's it." His voice is dark honey and gravel. "Let go. Come on my cock."
The orgasm rips through me and I have to bury my face in his shoulder to muffle my cry. I clench around him helplessly, my whole body shaking with the force of it. He groans, his rhythm faltering.
"Where?" he grits out.
"Inside." I can barely form words. "Inside me."
Three more brutal thrusts and he buries himself deep, his cock pulsing as he comes. I feel the heat of him filling me, and the sensation draws out my own orgasm until I'm wrung out and boneless beneath him.
We collapse together, sweat-slicked and breathing hard. For a long moment neither of us moves. Then he shifts, rolling us so I'm tucked against his chest. His hand settles possessive on my hip, his other arm wrapped around my shoulders.
The silence stretches. Outside, I can hear the distant groan of the dead. Inside, just our breathing slowly returning to normal.
"Still a bad idea," he murmurs finally.
"Probably." I press closer to his warmth. "Don't care."
His arm tightens around me. We don't talk about what this means. Don't make promises we might not live to keep. Tomorrow we ride for the hospital. Tomorrow we might die.
But tonight, for just a few hours, I let myself feel safe in the arms of a man who understands loss. Who knows what it means to fight for the people you love, even when you know you might fail.
When I finally fall asleep, it's with his heartbeat steady under my ear and his hand warm on my skin.
four
Stephan
