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Greedy, even unconscious.

I smile and let my hand drift toward his arms, where the scars are.

They’ve faded, but they still make my heart hurt when I see them, mostly because I know I can’t take them away and I wish I could. I lean down and press my mouth to the scar that runs along his shoulder blade. He stirs, but he doesn’t wake.

I shift, turning him on his back, settling myself between his thighs, and ease them apart gently. He’s still loose from last night, and when I drag two fingers through the mess between his legs, he twitches.

“Easy,” I murmur, though he can’t hear me yet.

I fit myself against him, the head of my cock nudging at his rim. I don’t push in yet. I lean down and kiss the nape of his neck.

“Ilya.” He makes a disgruntled sound and burrows deeper into the pillow.

I smile against his skin and kiss him again, this time at the hinge of his jaw. “Wake up, prince.”

“Go away,” he mumbles.

“No.”

I press forward slowly, just the tip so that his body registers the intrusion. His breath catches, and his fingers curl into the sheets. “Kento—”

“Morning,” I murmur against his ear, sinking in another inch. “My beautiful prince. Did you sleep well?”

He gasps, his back arching, and I feel the moment his mind catches up to his body. His hole flutters around me, trying to decide whether to fight the stretch or pull me in.

“You—fuck—you can’t just—”

“I can.” I kiss the soft skin beneath his ear and push in deeper until I’m halfway seated. “You’re still open. That’s why you slept like this all night, didn’t you? So you can be ready for me.”

He mewls, and his hands fly to the pillow, gripping it like he’ll fall through the mattress if he lets go.

“All the way,” I say softly, my mouth at his temple. “Take it.”

I push in to the hilt. He cries out, and his hole clenches wildly around the stretch. “There,” I breathe. “That’s it.”

“Too deep,” he whimpers, but his hips tilt back, greedy, chasing it. “Kento—ah—wait—”

“Not too deep.” I pull out halfway, then I sink back in until my hips are flush to his ass. “It’s never too deep.”

He turns his face into the pillow and moans, muffled and shameless. I catch his chin and make him look at me. “No hiding,” I say quietly. “Say good morning properly.”

“Good—good morning,” he gets out, voice thin and wrecked.

“Better.” I fuck into him again, a little harder, and he mewls against my mouth. “Tell me how it feels.”

“Full,” he gasps. “You’re—fuck—you’re so deep. I can feel you everywhere.”

“Good.” I kiss him while I rock into him. He opens for it. He always opens for it once the pride burns off. “You were made to wake up like this. Full of me.”

His nails dig into my shoulder. He hangs on, thighs spreading wider under me, taking every thrust. I pull almost all the way out and watch his hole try to keep me, pink and shining and obscene, then I sink back in and stay.

He makes a sound I want to keep. “Move,” he begs, voice cracking. “Please. Fuck me.”

“Since you asked so sweetly.”

I start fucking him harder. “You love my cock inside of you, don’t you, baby?” I murmur, mouth at his ear. “You always take it so well.”

“Shut up,” he breathes, and it comes out ruined. “Don’t—don’t talk like that.”