“You let me do that to you,” I murmur.“You let me mark you from the inside.”
Monty nods.“Because I trust you.Because I wanted you there.Not just your cock.You.”
My voice cracks a little when I whisper, “You branded me too, you know.”
His eyes widen, startled.
“Not with your cum”—I say, voice soft—“not yet.But with your want.”
My hand stills for a beat.
His shoulders relax even more.He lets his head drop forward onto his arms.
“This for me feels like being seen from the inside,” he says.“Like letting myself need it too.Letting someone else give me that same thing.The fullness.The closeness.Knowing you wanted to stay there.That you didn’t rush away from it.”
I resume, gentler now, wiping him clean while still leaving the warmth of it with him.Letting some of it stay, just like he asked.
“You were brave,” I tell him quietly.“For asking.For trusting me with it.”
He lets out a soft laugh.“Didn’t feel brave in the moment.”
“Still was,” I say.“You knew what you needed and you said it.That’s not easy.”
I press the towel aside and use my thumb to trace a slow, reassuring line over his hip.Over skin still warm, still sensitive.
“You’re beautiful like this,” I continue.“Open.Honest.Not pretending you don’t want what you want.”
He turns his head just enough to look at me over his shoulder, eyes soft, hazy.
“You didn’t make it feel dirty,” he says.“You didn’t make me feel weird for wanting it.”
I shake my head.“There’s nothing weird about wanting to feel connected.About wanting to feel full.About wanting someone to stay.”
He closes his eyes at that.
I lean forward and kiss the center of his back—slow, grounding, intentional.
“You trusted me with your body,” I say.“With your kink.With something vulnerable.”My voice lowers.“That’s hot as hell.And it’s an honor.”
His breath catches—not sharp, not frantic.Just full.
“Thank you,” he murmurs.“For letting me have that.”
I smile against his skin.
“Anytime,” I say.“You’re allowed to ask.”
Then I help him ease onto his side, gather him into my chest, and hold him there—no rush, no agenda, just warmth and quiet and the kind of closeness that lingers long after the heat fades.
And when he finally relaxes completely, body heavy with satisfaction and trust, I stay exactly where I am.
I settle behind him, drawing the covers up over both of us, our bodies still warm and slick with what we just made.My chest pressed to his back, one arm tucked under his neck, the other slung low around his waist, hand resting just beneath his navel—right where he still twitches when I breathe against his neck.
Monty’s quiet, his body soft in my arms, but not asleep.Not yet.
I press a kiss to his shoulder.Then another to the nape of his neck.“Still with me?”
“Yeah,” he whispers.“Still here.”
