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I positioned myself between his legs and lined up. The head of my cock brushed against his entrance, teasing the ring of muscle I had just stretched.

Felix lifted his hips, seeking the friction. “Do it.”

I pushed inside as a velvet vice clamped down on me. I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to go slow, inch by inch, letting him adjust. Felix cried out, a broken sound that I smothered with my mouth. I kissed him, swallowing his groans, making him drink the taste of his own arousal on my tongue. I could feel the pulse of him around me as I sank to the hilt, the grip of his body on mine. It was an anchor. It was the only thing in the world that felt real.

I held still for a second, letting the sensation burn into my brain. The King of the Academy, impaled on my dick.

Under me his breathing broke apart and put itself back together, and his hands moved over my back with no plan I could find, just motion, just proof of me, and I gave him all the time, because tomorrow belonged to the Director down to the minute and this was the one hour that had ever belonged to us.

When he finally moved it was only an inch, his hips rolling up against me to test what he could take, and the breath went out of him in a shaking line against my cheek.

“Okay,” he said, to himself as much as to me. “Okay. Move.”

I drew out slowly enough to feel every inch of the drag and pushed back in all the way, and each time I bottomed out his mouth fell open against mine and nothing came out of it. I held that pace and let his body learn mine. By the fifth stroke his legs had come up around my waist, his heels pressing into the small of my back and pulling me in. By the tenth he had stopped bracing, and the sound he made into my mouth was not pain.

“That’s it,” I murmured. “Feel that? Right there. That’s you opening for me.”

He did not answer, but his hand slid down my spine and gripped my ass to pull me deeper.

I withdrew almost all the way and slammed back in. Felix’s back arched off the mattress. His fingernails dug into my shoulders, drawing blood.

“Fuck,” he sobbed against my mouth, as I pounded into him.

The headboard banged against the wall, a rhythmic thudding that the audio sensors would probably pick up. I didn’t care. Let them hear.

“Look at me,” I growled.

Felix opened his eyes. They were blown wide, unfocused, filled with tears of overstimulation.

“Who are you with?” I demanded, thrusting harder.

“You,” he gasped. “Leander. Only you.”

I hooked an arm under his knee and pushed it back toward his shoulder, and the new angle took him apart. His whole body jerked. He clapped a hand over his own mouth before I could reach it, eyes flying wide, and I felt him clamp down on me so hard I had to stop and breathe through it.

“There,” I said. “Don’t move.”

He couldn’t have moved if the building had come down. I rocked into that one spot in long, slow strokes and watched it work on him, the flush climbing his chest, the muscles in his thighs fluttering, the cords standing out in his neck. Twice I felt him start to climb and eased off to hold him on the edge, and twice he swore at me through his teeth in a whisper that carried more filth than any shout.

“Regillen. I am going to end you.”

“After.”

I leaned down and took his mouth again, and somewhere in it the rhythm stopped being mine. His hips met every stroke. His heels dug in. Sweat ran between our chests and the headboard kept time against the wall, and I stopped counting anything, strokes or breaths or seconds, because there was no clock left in the room worth watching. He had both hands on my face. He said my name against my lips, over and over, so quietly the mics could not have caught it.

I had fought for every single thing I owned. Nobody had ever handed me one. I did not intend to drop him.

I reached down, and my hand found his cock, trapped between our bodies. It was leaking, rock hard.

I stroked him in time with my thrusts. The dual stimulation was too much. He started to convulse, his inner muscles clamping down on me like a fist.

“I can’t,” he choked out. “I can’t hold it.”

“Let go.”

I drove into him, hitting that sweet spot deep inside.

For one long second everything in him locked. His back lifted off the mattress and his breath stopped halfway in, and his eyes found mine and held, wide and black and without a single defense left in them. I felt it coming before it arrived, a tightening that started low in him and ran the length of his body.