“Felix!”
“Let me.” I work my way down her body, kissing and tasting skin that’s flushed with arousal and anticipation. “Let me show you what choosing you means.”
She nods, hands fisting in the sheets when I settle between her thighs properly and use my mouth the way I’ve been imagining for weeks. The first taste of her makes me groan against sensitive flesh—salt and heat and evidence of how much she wants this.
Diana’s hips lift instinctively, seeking more pressure, and I grip her thighs to hold her steady while I work her thoroughly. My tongue circles and teases, learning what makes her breath catch and what makes her cry out.
When I find the rhythm that has her trembling, I maintain it with focused intensity, adding fingers that stretch and fill while my mouth continues its attention.
“Oh God.” Her voice breaks on the words, hands coming down to tangle in my hair. “Felix, I’m going to—”
“Come on, then.” I don’t let up, driving her higher with tongue and fingers working in coordination. “Come for me, Diana. Let me feel it.”
She shatters with my name torn from her throat, her body clenching around my fingers in waves that I draw out until she’s gasping and pushing at my shoulders weakly. I gentle the contact, pressing soft kisses to the inside of her thighs while she catches her breath.
When I move back up her body, she pulls me into a kiss that tastes like her own arousal mixed with desperation. Her hand slides between us to wrap around my length, stroking with unpracticed enthusiasm that makes my control waver.
“Inside me,” she murmurs against my mouth. “I need you inside me.”
I shift my hips, guiding myself to her entrance, and push inside in one slow thrust that seats me fully. The tight heat of her body accepting mine pulls a groan from deep in my chest—sensation so intense it borders on overwhelming.
Diana’s legs wrap around my waist, pulling me deeper, her nails digging into my shoulders hard enough to leave marks I’ll see tomorrow. “Move. Please, Felix, move.”
I withdraw and thrust back in, establishing a rhythm that’s measured rather than frantic despite the urgency building. Each stroke pulls sounds from both of us—gasps and groans and broken words that dissolve into pure sensation.
Her body meets mine with equal intensity, hips rolling to take me deeper, her hands roaming across my back and shoulders with touches that ground me in the reality of this moment. This isn’t performance or strategic coupling or possession wrapped in intimacy.
I slow my rhythm, bracing on my forearms to watch her face while I move inside her. She’s beautiful in ways that transcend the physical—flushed and open and completely present, her dark eyes locked on mine with an intensity that makes my chest tighten.
“I love you,” I tell her, the words feeling both inadequate and necessary. “You matter more than everything else combined.”
Her breath hitches, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes even as she pulls me down into another kiss. “I love you too. Even when it’s complicated and terrifying and nothing like what I imagined love would feel like.”
I shift the angle slightly, hitting deeper, and her back arches with a cry that vibrates against my mouth.
The rhythm builds again, urgency returning as sensation compounds. I can feel her tightening around me, the telltale tension that signals she’s close again. My hand slides between us to find where we’re joined, fingers working the sensitive flesh while I continue thrusting.
“Come with me,” I manage, my own control fraying at the edges. “I want to feel you fall apart while I’m inside you.”
Diana’s response is incoherent, just my name repeated desperately while her body tightens and releases in waves that trigger my own climax.
I finish inside her with a groan that sounds almost pained, hips stuttering through the intensity until we’re both spent and gasping.
I collapse partially on top of her, careful to keep most of my weight on my forearms, and bury my face in her neck while we both struggle to breathe. Her hands stroke through my hair with touches that are soothing rather than sexual, grounding us both in the aftermath.
Eventually I withdraw carefully and roll to the side, pulling her against me so we’re pressed together from shoulder to thigh. She curls into me naturally, one leg thrown over mine, her head resting on my chest.
“That was—” She pauses, searching for words. “—different than before.”
“Better?” I trace patterns on her shoulder, the touch absent and affectionate.
“God, yeah.” Her fingers draw circles on my chest.
Diana tilts her face up to meet my eyes, her expression carrying something vulnerable and certain in equal measure. “You love me.”
The words settle with weight that simultaneously terrifies and grounds me. “I do. In whatever capacity I’m capable of it.”
“Don’t diminish what you’re offering.” She reaches up to frame my face, forcing me to maintain eye contact. “You’ve spent your entire life avoiding this kind of attachment and you’re choosing it anyway.”
