His hand slides down my side, over my hip, fingers tracing the edge of my boxers with teasing lightness.“Can I touch you?”he asks, voice rough with desire.
“Please,” I breathe, lifting my hips in invitation.
He slips his hand beneath the fabric, fingers wrapping around me with perfect pressure.I gasp at the contact, head falling back against the pillow as he begins to stroke slow, deliberate movements that have me trembling within moments.
“Look at me,” he commands softly.When I open my eyes, his gaze nearly undoes me.“I want to see you.Want to watch you come apart for me.”
His words send heat flooding through me, pushing me closer to the edge.His rhythm increases, the twist of his wrist on the upstroke making my breath catch.I’m close, so close, but I want more.Want all of him.
“Wait,” I gasp, catching his wrist.My heart pounds against my ribs, body trembling on the edge but wanting, needing, more than this.“Not like this.I want— I need?—”
Zach stills immediately, his hand frozen where it grips me.Concern flickers across his features, brow furrowing as he searches my face.“Too much?”
“Not enough,” I correct, pulling him down for a desperate kiss.His lips are soft yet demanding against mine, the taste of him making me dizzy with want.I break away just enough to whisper against his mouth, “I want you inside me.”
The words hang between us, honest and raw.His pupils dilate until his eyes are almost black, a low groan rumbling from deep in his chest.The sound vibrates through me where our bodies press together, sending another wave of heat coursing through my veins.
“You sure?”he asks, voice rough with restraint.His thumb traces my cheekbone with such tenderness it makes my chest ache.
I meet his gaze steadily, wanting him to see the certainty there.“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
Something shifts in his expression.A surrender, a decision made.He kisses me again, deeper this time, tongue sliding against mine in a way that makes me arch beneath him.Then he’s reaching toward the nightstand, the drawer sliding open with a soft scrape that seems unnaturally loud in the quiet room.
He retrieves condoms and lube.A flicker of something, not quite jealousy, passes through me at the thought of others who might have been in this bed, but I push it aside.The past doesn’t matter.Not now.Not when Zach is looking at me like I’m everything he’s ever wanted.
His fingers hook into the waistband of my boxers, tugging gently.“Lift up for me.”
I raise my hips, letting him slide the fabric down my legs.The cool air against newly exposed skin makes me shiver, or maybe it’s the heat in Zach’s gaze as he takes in the sight of me, completely bare before him.
“Christ,” he breathes, running his palms up my thighs with reverent slowness.“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”
Heat rises to my face at the raw admiration in his voice.Before I can respond, he’s standing, thumbs hooked in his own underwear.They slide down, revealing him fully for the first time to my gaze.My mouth goes dry at the sight, all lean muscle and tattooed skin, his arousal evident and intimidating.
“See something you like, Doc?”he asks, a hint of that familiar smirk playing at his lips.
“Everything,” I admit, not bothering to hide my appreciation.“I like everything I see.”
His expression softens at my honesty.He returns to the bed, settling between my legs, the first press of skin against skin drawing matching gasps from both of us.The weight of him is grounding, perfect in a way I hadn’t known to expect.
“Tell me if anything hurts,” he says, reaching for the lube.The snap of the cap opening sends another tremor of anticipation through me.“We go at your pace.No rushing.”
I nod, unable to form words as I watch him coat his fingers generously.The care he takes, the deliberate patience despite the obvious strain of his own need, makes something warm bloom in my chest alongside the heat of desire.
His eyes never leave mine as his hand moves between us.The first touch is cool and slightly startling, gentle circles that gradually increase in pressure.I force myself to relax, focusing on Zach’s face, the way his breath catches when I respond to his touch.
“That’s it,” he encourages softly as the first finger presses inside.There’s pressure, a slight burn that quickly gives way to something else as he moves with maddening patience.“You’re doing so well.”
His free hand strokes my thigh, soothing and arousing in equal measure.I concentrate on my breathing, on the growing pleasure as my body adjusts to the intrusion.When he adds a second finger, the stretch is more pronounced, but his movements are so careful, so attuned to my every reaction that discomfort quickly melts into pleasure.
“Still good?”he asks, voice strained with the effort of restraint.
“Yes,” I manage, the word ending on a gasp as his fingers curl, finding a spot inside me that sends sparks shooting up my spine.“God, yes.”
A small, satisfied smile plays at his lips as he repeats the motion, watching my reaction.“Right there, huh?”
I can only nod, words beyond me as he continues the careful stretch and slide of his fingers.When he adds a third, I feel impossibly full, hovering on the edge between pleasure and pain until he leans down to kiss me, his other hand wrapping around my length to stroke in counterpoint to the movement of his fingers.
The dual sensation is overwhelming, too much and not enough all at once.I’m aware of the sounds escaping me, desperate little moans I should probably be embarrassed about, but I’m beyond caring.All that matters is Zach’s touch, the building pressure inside me, and the way he watches my every reaction like he’s memorizing them.
