“Go slow,” Bodhi rumbled, voice rough, like gravel lodged in his throat. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
“Need you,” I whimpered, dropping a fraction lower.
He squeezed my hips, holding me still. “We’ve got all night, baby.”
I nodded, letting him keep me there while my body adjusted. It had been a while, and Bodhi’s size was... generous. This wasn’t something I could rush anymore.
But as much as I hated patience, sinking onto him inch by inch felt different. Better. More deliberate. More us. Every slow movement erased the ghosts of nameless bodies and careless nights. Every kiss, every steadying touch wiped the slate clean. Bodhi turned me into something new. Something chosen.
A blank canvas, and I was letting him write all over me.
My ass met his hips, and I clenched instinctively. Bodhi groaned, his head tipping back against the pillows.
“Fuck,” he growled, his hands sliding back to cup my ass.
I gave myself a moment to adjust before lifting up and dropping back down. Then again. And again. Rising to my knees and letting gravity take over, landing in his lap with the sinful sound of skin slapping skin.
“Bodhi—shit,” I panted, riding him properly now. “Love your cock.”
His hands skimmed up my sides until they covered my pecs, thumbs circling my nipples. “You’re a piece of fucking art, Iggy.”
I leaned back, bracing my hands on his thighs, and the change in angle drove his cock straight into my prostate. A sound ripped out of me that I’d absolutely deny making under any other circumstances. My own cock leaked freely, precum spilling down onto his stomach, bouncing between us like it was begging for attention.
And somehow, Bodhi heard it.
His hand wrapped around my length, warm and sure. My hips stuttered, caught between dropping onto his cock and fucking into his fist. The dual sensation was almost too much. Tears pricked my eyes. Drool slipped down my chin. I was a mess, leaking from almost everywhere, body overstimulated and uncaring.
“Bodhi!” I cried when he pinched my nipple.
“Fuck,” he groaned as my body clenched around him. “Fucking love you.”
My head fell back, like I physically couldn’t hold it up anymore. I barely knew which way was up, or what my name was, but my mouth kept forming the same words, over and over, stitched into my soul while my brain worked without thought.
“Love you. I love you. Bodhi—fuck—love you so much.”
My eyes slid shut, colour bursting behind my lids. My orgasm was rightthere. I just... I just needed?—
“Look at me,” Bodhi rumbled, pinching my nipple again. “Fucking look at me when you come, Iggy.”
My eyes flew open and my head tipped forward. His hips snapped up, driving into my prostate, and I shattered. I yelled as my body jerked, ropes of cum spilling from me, coating his fist, his stomach, even hitting his chin.
He released my cock, and I slumped forward, uncaring of the mess between us. My tongue swept out, licking the evidence from his skin. The growl in his chest vibrated through me.
Bodhi gripped my hips, planted his feet, and fucked up into me, chasing his own release. Each thrust grazed my prostate, pushing me right to the edge of oversensitivity. My body couldn’t decide whether to crave it or recoil, but I was too far gone to care. Dazed. Spent. Floating in the aftermath and the warmth of his skin.
I was just a vessel for him to use, to finish inside.
And judging by the way my oversensitive cock still twitched, some part of me liked that thought far more than I was ready to unpack.
Bodhi’s hips snapped up and down, and I pressed my lips to his neck, feeling his pulse race beneath my mouth. I lifted my head just enough to catch his earlobe between my teeth, sucking gently before giving it a sharp nip that dragged a groan out of him.
“Come for me, Bodhi,” I rasped against his ear. “Fill me up.”
With a broken grunt, his rhythm faltered. His hips stuttered, thrusting twice more before he went still with a raw, unfiltered yell that sent a shiver straight through me. I smirked despite my exhaustion. We were absolutely having the bareback conversation soon.
His chest heaved as he collapsed into the mattress, and I eventually felt him soften, slipping free of me. The sudden emptiness made me want to whine, even though I knew I’d be sore tomorrow, left with that familiar, dull yet satisfying ache.
Strong arms wrapped around me, and I wriggled until I was settled beside him, face tucked into the curve of his neck, breathing in the remnants of his cologne. His fingers slid into my hair, scratching gently at my scalp until a contented sound slipped out of me and I pressed closer.
