His mouth curves faintly at that, not smug, not triumphant. Affectionate. Ruined. He reaches between us, fingers brushing mine as he helps me line him up. The first press of him at my entrance makes my whole body go taut. I hold his gaze as I sink down, slowly, both of us breathing through it together.
He fits into me with that same deep, consuming fullness that always feels like being known too intimately to hide. My mouth falls open. He swears softly under his breath, gripping my hips tighter, not to force, only to steady me.
“That’s it,” he whispers. “Take your time. I’ve got you.”
Lowering myself inch by inch until he is fully inside me, I stop, unable to do anything but feel for a second. The stretch.The heat. The way his body trembles underneath mine while he fights not to move too soon. My hands frame his face. His hands stay at my hips like that is the only place in the world he trusts himself to keep them.
His eyes don’t leave mine.
“You feel so good,” he says quietly, like it costs him something to say it this softly. “God, you feel fucking perfect.”
Leaning down to kiss him, I start to move almost unbearably slow.
A shallow lift of my hips. A careful glide back down. His breath catches beneath me. One hand slips from my hip to my spine, flattening there, guiding me closer each time I sink onto him. There is no rush in him now. None of the frantic edge from before. Just this molten, aching pace like he wants to savor every inch, every reaction, every little sound I make.
And he does.
He notices all of them.
The way my mouth parts when he fills me deeper. The way my nails drag lightly through his hair. The way my thighs tremble when I shift for friction. Every time I make a small sound he answers it...by kissing me, by tightening his hand on my waist, by whispering something that turns my bones soft.
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs against my lips. “Come apart slow for me.”
I shiver all over.
He rolls us suddenly, until I am the one beneath him and he is braced over me, one forearm planted beside my head, the other hand slipping under my thigh to hook it higher over his hip. The change in angle drives him deeper. Gasping, I cling to him, his forehead pressing to mine.
“Too much?” he asks immediately, though his own voice is already fraying at the edges.
I shake my head.
“Good,” he whispers, kissing the corner of my mouth. Then he starts to move.
Slowly.
Lazily, almost, if not for the intensity in every thrust. He pulls out until only the tip remains, then eases back in with intentional care, like he is determined to make me feel every inch of him, every drag, stretch and deep warm press. It is not rough. It is not frantic. It is so much more than either of those things because it is loving. Because he is looking at me the whole time like this means something sacred to him.
His hand on my thigh strokes once, twice, then squeezes.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs. “Under me. Looking at me like that.”
Turning my face into his next kiss, I'm dizzy with him.
He kisses my cheek, my temple, my mouth, then whispers against my lips, “I love how you let me be soft with you.”
The words hit me harder than the thrusts do.
My arms tighten around him. Lifting my hips to meet his, that little motion pulls a low, wrecked sound from him. He kisses me deeper in answer. His pace stays measured but there is more need in it now, a little more weight, a little more drag.
“Fuck,” he breathes, not harshly, but like the word is being pulled out of him. “You’re perfect. You feel perfect.”
He reaches between us then, not in any hurry, fingers finding the place my body already aches for him. He touches me there in slow circles that match the rhythm of his hips. The combination is too much and nowhere near enough. I moan into his shoulder as he kisses my hair.
“That’s it,” he whispers. “Let me take care of you.”
His voice keeps doing this to me, keeps making my body soften, open and tremble in ways I cannot control. He keeps talking, not constantly, not enough to break the moment, just enough that every word feels like another stroke.
“You’re doing so good for me.”
