"I want that too. Want to build something lasting with you. Want to have time to just be together without constantlywatching for threats." His hand traced patterns on my back. "When this settles—when we've dealt with the mole and the FBI investigation and all the immediate dangers—we'll take time for us. Go somewhere. Just exist together without agenda."
"I'd like that."
"Me too."
We eventually moved from the couch to the bedroom. Elio pulled me up gently, our hands linked, leading me through the darkened apartment.
In the bedroom, he turned on just one lamp. Soft light that cast shadows across the space. Made everything feel intimate. Private. Like the world outside didn't exist.
"Come here," he said softly.
I moved into his arms. He kissed me slowly. Not rushed. Not desperate. Just thorough. Like he had all the time in the world to learn my mouth. To taste me. To savor every second.
His hands slid under my shirt. Warm palms against my skin. Mapped my body like he was memorizing every detail. Every scar. Every place that made me gasp. Every sensitive spot he'd discovered over weeks of learning me.
I pulled at his shirt. He let me strip it off. Then let me explore his chest with the same careful attention. Tracing scars with my fingertips. Feeling muscle and heat and the steady beat of his heart.
"I love you," I said against his skin.
"I love you too." His voice was rough. Emotional. "So much. More than I knew how to say until you taught me."
We undressed each other slowly. Taking time with each piece of clothing. Each new expanse of skin revealed. No urgency. No desperation. Just careful attention and growing heat.
When we were both bare, Elio guided me to the bed. Laid me down against the pillows with such tenderness it made my chest tight.
"What do you need?" he asked. Kneeling between my legs. Looking at me with dark eyes full of love and want.
"You. Just you. Slow. I want to feel everything. Want to remember every second."
"Then that's what you'll get."
He started with his mouth. Kissed down my chest. My stomach. My thighs. Avoiding where I wanted him most. Just building sensation. Building anticipation. Making me feel worshipped instead of just desired.
When he finally took me in his mouth, I gasped and arched. The pleasure was intense but not overwhelming. He kept it controlled. Deliberate. Bringing me close but never over the edge.
"Elio—please—"
"Patience. We have time. All the time we need."
He reached for supplies. Slicked his fingers. Pressed one inside me with careful attention.
I'd gotten used to this. To the stretch and fullness. To the pleasure that built slowly as he worked me open. But tonight felt different. More intimate. Like he was taking care of me instead of just preparing me.
"Okay?" he asked. Always checking. Always making sure.
"More. I need more."
He added a second finger. Found the spot inside that made stars burst behind my eyelids. Worked it until I was gasping and clutching the sheets.
"That's it. Let me take care of you. Let me show you how much you mean to me."
Third finger. More stretch. More fullness. More pleasure building in waves.
"Ready?" he asked after what felt like forever.
"Yes. Please. I need you inside me. Need to feel close to you."
He rolled on a condom. Slicked himself. Positioned himself at my entrance.
