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“Jesus fuck,” I mutter, slamming my head into the floor as his finger skims just shy of my rim. He slides his hands back up my thighs, increasing the pressure and using his palms to work up to my groin. Heat builds to an unbearable level all over my body, and I’ve never felt anything like it.

“Sacral Chakra,” he whispers. The shock of his tongue following the lines of his hands has me panting and twitching.

“Solar Plexus.” His languid path continues to the upper part of my abdomen, his hands making a circular motion before he licks another stripe down to my navel and back up again. I moan as he settles over me, hovering just enough that his ass skims my cock. I grind up, desperate for contact. He grinds back down into me, releasing a breathy moan of his own.

I’m going to come.

I’m going to come without ever getting inside him, with my hands bound above my head, without even seeing him come apart.

“Bellamy,” I groan, low and desperate.

He continues his onslaught. “Heart,” he breathes, giving my aching nipples a cursory once-over before kissing just under my jaw.

“Throat.” I don’t know what it is about feeling him caress my throat cartilage but it’s making me lose my mind. My heartbeat throbs in my cock as I thrust, sliding between his cheeks, his tongue pushing into my mouth.

A rough moan escapes my throat when he tugs on my hair, rocking against me. Every slick slide of me between his perfect cheeks sends me closer to the edge, every pant of my name on his lips feels like one step closer to ecstasy.

I’m about one second away from busting when he stops, standing and repositioning my legs so my feet are flat on the floor and I’m exposed to him. The cap of the lube clicks open, and then his coated fingers tease at my rim. I can hear his heavy breaths, the little gasp that matches mine when he slips a dainty finger inside of me.

We never did this back in college. I fell naturally into a top role with him, because he needed to borrow my confidence and I had a lot to teach him about how his body could work with someone else.

Feeling him inside me is too much, not enough, and everything all at once. His movements are a little unsure at first, but he finds a rhythm that has me clenching my teeth in desperation not to spill too soon. I nearly lose my fight when he slots the cold stone against my entrance, eliciting a hiss from me.

“Please let me see you,” I beg, rubbing my face against the inside of my bicep to try to shift the fabric. For a second I think he’s going to leave me blind, but then the silk is ripped off my face at the same time he thrusts his hips forward, using the momentum to push the dildo into me.

Our moans mingle. His, a strained sigh, mine, low and shaky. He pulls the quartz out, his eyes heavy-lidded, then uses his thigh to knock his hand and the dildo deeper inside. Fucking me in his own unique way. A string of liquid drips from his pretty pink cock as he thrusts again, sending pleasure shooting into my limbs as he pegs my prostate.

“Ohhh, right there, right there, baby,” I rasp, my fingers flexing uselessly into the worn leather belt around my wrists, everything coiling hot and tight, white-hot bliss barreling down my spine toward the inevitable. “Fuck me just like that.”

Bellamy’s free hand claws into my thigh, desperation painting his features. My mouth parts as he withdraws and slides it back into me again, harder this time.

“I’m gonna…oh shit,” I groan, back arching off the floor as I come. Hot liquid lands on my stomach and chest in quick bursts, mixing with the oil.

I shake with the aftershocks of my orgasm, my head a delirious, fucked-out mess. My arms ache like hell, but I don’t care when my gorgeous man is crawling over me. He makes a strange hiccupping sound, clawing at the belt at my wrists.

“I need you,” he whimpers, his voice thick with emotion. Wetness drips onto my chest and it’s only then that I realize he’s crying. The candlelight catches the slow trickle dripping from his eyes, his expression anguished.

“Baby, baby, wha⁠—”

“P-please, Sunday, I can’t—” he stutters, folding his arms over my shoulders as I push up to sit. I cradle him there, holding the back of his head in my hand and pulling him into me.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I just need a minute, okay? Just give me a minute and I’ll take care of you.” I pull back to brush his hair out of his face, my heart crumpling at the look in his eyes. He looks so distraught all of a sudden, and I don’t know what to do with it.

He writhes on my lap, a different kind of desperation driving his movements. The head of his swollen pink cock thrusts against the divots of my abs, chasing his release against my body. It doesn’t take me long to get hard again, a possessive desire to give him what he needs flooding my veins.

I dig my fingers into his hips, asking him without words to lift up so I can notch myself against his rim. He rests his arms over my shoulders, hands loose and pliant at my nape as I start pushing into him. He hisses, and I withdraw even though I was barely in.

“Don’t stop,” he cries, reaching back around to grab my cock, another wave of tears rolling down his face. I silence him with a bruising kiss, his mouth tasting like salt and longing and urgent need. He pulls away, but I chase him and nip at his bottom lip, tugging it between my teeth.

I watch his face as he tries again, sinking down onto me slowly. Pain is written in the spaces between his brows and the gape of his mouth. I grasp his jaw in my hand, forcing him to look at me.

“We don’t have to do this,” I say sincerely. I don’t want him to hurt himself; there are a million other ways I can make him come that don’t involve him impaling his lithe body on me, and I’d do them all gladly.

Bellamy’s gaze connects with mine, all damp fire and determination. He raises his chin as he sinks down some more, the head of my cock finally popping into the ring of muscle. My fingers flex on his hips as the heat of him envelopes me, so fucking tight and hot. He doesn’t slow, letting out a sharp little gasp as every rung of my piercings breach his scorching channel.

When his ass finally meets my pelvis, his head collapses onto my shoulder, trembling and shuddering as his body adjusts to my size. I think some of the shaking is him trying to keep hold of his emotions, judging by the soft caress of air against my skin and the wet sniffles still coming from him. I press a kiss into the side of his head as I run my fingertips up and down the ridges of his spine, memorizing every bump.

“Talk to me, Bels,” I plead. I can’t fix it if he doesn’t talk to me. I want to help, whatever it is. I’ll do whatever it takes.