The sensation became more electric the closer he came to where I was still dripping for him.
By the time he pressed the vibrator against the base of my cock, I was clutching the sheets with both hands, breath coming in short, shallow bursts.
“Oh my god,” I blurted, unable to control the jerk of my hips.
Tobias made a small, fascinated sound in his throat. He adjusted the pressure, then the angle, watching my face intently for feedback, as if my every twitch telegraphed a secret. I didn’t know who was more embarrassed—him, for being so clinical about it, or me, for loving every second of his attention.
He moved the toy up, slow as melting wax, grazing the shaft, a quick pulse at the frenulum, a maddening ease at the crown that made me kick my heel into the bed. I wanted to twist away from the stimulation, but also never wanted it to stop. He found the spot—of course he did—and when the vibrator pressed there, my whole body locked up, spine arching off the comforter and a choked “fuck” spilling out of my mouth.
Tobias froze, like he’d crossed a tripwire. “Is that—do you want more?”
“Uh-huh,” I answered, too far gone for words.
He did it again, and the world shrank down to nothing but the tremble of the mattress beneath me and the buzzing of the toy. I felt it gathering, a seismic pressure at the base of my spine, and I knew I was seconds from coming, but then—Tobias pulled the vibrator away.
I yelped in protest, the sound desperate and pathetic. I scrabbled at his wrist, needing the sensation back, but Tobias set the toy aside and caught my hand in his, cradling it between his palms. He squeezed, hard, as if to ground me.
“Not yet,” he said, voice rougher than before. He sounded winded, and the heat in his cheeks made him look startled by his own boldness. “I want to try the plugs.”
I groaned, half in frustration, half in anticipation. My cock throbbed, painfully hard and leaking onto my stomach. Inodded, unable to trust my voice, and watched as he reached for the set of plugs and selected the smallest one. He turned it over in his hands, almost reverent, like he was about to solve some ancient puzzle instead of slide a sex toy into my ass.
Tobias slicked the plug with lubricant and circled his finger around the rim, watching for my reaction every millimeter of the way.
I didn’t want to flinch, but I did—tense, then consciously let my hips go slack. Tobias caught the microexpression, and placed a steadying palm on my thigh. He waited until I met his eye.
“I’m going to be gentle,” he murmured.
He pressed, and I gasped at the chill of the lube, the initial pressure, but it turned quickly into a slow-burning stretch. Tobias took his time, running his thumb in soothing circles over my hipbone, and when I relaxed a little, he pressed again. It wasn’t so much pain as an invasive fullness, a sense that every nerve ending in my body had been summoned to a single point, pooling under Tobias’s careful hand. I startled at how quickly the plug sank inside me, the feeling of the base against my skin signaling something irrevocable. Tobias exhaled loudly; I could feel his breath ghosting over the back of my thigh as he knelt between my half-bent knees.
“Fuck,” I whimpered. “Tobias, I—”
“Tell me,” he said, his voice rough. “Tell me what you feel.”
“Full,” I managed. “Full and… God, it’s good, it’s so good, don’t stop—”
He didn’t. He worked the plug deeper, adjusting the angle until he found my prostate, making my vision white out, and then he brought back the vibrator, holding it against my cock while he pressed against that spot inside again and again.
I was making sounds I didn’t recognize, broken and desperate, and Tobias was watching me with dark, hungry eyes. The power imbalance was still there—I was still his captive, stillwearing an ankle monitor—but in this moment, with his hands on me and his attention burning through me like sunlight, I couldn’t bring myself to care.
“Come for me,” he said, and it was almost a plea. “Cove, please—”
I did. The orgasm hit me like a wave, rolling through me from the inside out, and I cried out, arching off the bed, my hands fisting in the sheets. Tobias kept the vibrator pressed against me, drawing it out, milking every aftershock until I was wrung out and trembling and barely conscious.
“Nngh, e-enough,” I forced myself to mumble.
He turned off the device and withdrew the plug with careful gentleness, cleaning me with the soft cloth, murmuring things I couldn’t quite make out. Then he was lying beside me on the bed, not touching, just present, and I turned my head to look at him.
His face was flushed, his hair mussed, and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead. He looked wrecked, I realized, and he hadn’t even touched himself.
“You didn’t…” I gestured vaguely at his own arousal pressing against the confines of his pants.
“This was for you,” he said simply. “I told you. I don’t expect reciprocation.”
“But you’re—”
“I’m fine.” He smiled, small and genuine. “Better than fine. That was amazing. Thank you.”
I laughed, breathless and disbelieving. “Never have I ever been thanked for coming.”
