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When we break apart, I reach for the lube on the nightstand. My hands are shaking slightly as I pour some into Cameron’s palm.

He gives me a questioning look, his eyes wide.

“Wet your fingers,” I say.

Cameron’s expression shifts to shock, then understanding. He spreads the lube around his fingers, his movements careful. I watch him, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat.

I lift my leg and wrap it over his hip, opening myself to him. Then I take his hand and guide it between my legs.

“Do you want to?” I ask, even though I already know the answer. I can see it in his eyes, and in the way his breath has gone shallow.

He nods immediately, too excited to speak.

“Do you know what to do?”

“Yeah,” he breathes.

His fingers find my hole, and I bury my face in his neck as he touches me. The first press of his fingertip brings a quick sound of protest out of me. It burns a little, feels foreign and intrusive. But I keep my body still, willing myself to relax.

“You okay?” Cameron asks, his voice tight.

“Yes. Keep going.”

He pushes in slowly, and I focus on breathing. On the feeling of his finger inside me, the way my body adjusts and makes space for him. It’s strange and overwhelming and not quite comfortable yet, but then he kisses me and adds another finger, and something shifts.

“You’re doing so well,” I tell him, my voice rough. “I love how you feel inside me.”

Cameron starts moving experimentally, searching. I can tell he’s looking for something specific, but he’s not finding it. He adds a third finger, and I have to focus on my breathing again, on staying relaxed and open.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he says.

I do, deliberately burying my face in his pillow so I can breathe him in. I feel exposed like this, vulnerable, but so much has happened between us that it doesn’t faze me. This is just another way of being close to him.

Cameron positions himself behind me, his fingers still inside me. Then he touches something, some spot deep inside, and it lights me on fire.

“Fuck,” I gasp.

It’s a mix of pleasure and pain unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I immediately want more. I reach down and start stroking myself, and when Cameron presses against that spot again, the combination is delicious. Overwhelming. Perfect.

I try to tell him how good it feels, but it comes out like nonsense, just broken sounds and half-formed words.

Cameron laughs lightly, and I can hear the arousal in his voice. “I know how you feel,” he says.

“Please,” I hear myself say. “Baby, please, I need you to put it in, please.”

Cameron’s fingers slide out, and I hear him grab the lube. The sound of him slicking himself makes my cock swell even more in my hand. Then I feel him pause at my hole, the blunt head of his cock pressing against me.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says.

“Oh, baby, you won’t hurt me.” My voice is steadier than I feel. “I can tell I’m ready.”

Cameron lines himself up and holds still as he pushes in. The stretch is intense, so much bigger than his fingers. I feel the burn of it, feel my body trying to accommodate him.

“Fuck,” I gasp, taking deep breaths.

“See?” Cameron says, and he’s already pulling out. “It’s hurting you.”

“No, baby, no, come back.” I buck back against him, desperate. “It doesn’t hurt. It just feels full. In a good way.”