I kept working that spot, my other hand steadying him on the mat, feeling how close he was getting just from this. The power in it, knowing I could make him fall apart with just my fingers and tongue, made my cock ache.
“Dusty, please,” he gasped. “I need you inside me. Need to feel you.”
I pulled back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Condom?”
“Nah, need it raw.”
Fuck, I almost came just from those words. All I wanted was to be buried inside him, feeling him clench around me. A couple squirts of lube into my palm and on his asshole and I was ready.
“You good?” I asked, positioning myself at his entrance.
“Yes. Fuck yes.”
I pushed in slow, watching his body open for me, take me in. The heat of him, the tight grip, the way he moaned my name—it was almost too much. I had to stop once I was buried deep, had to breathe and remember this was about him, about helping him feel whole again.
“Move,” he demanded. “Please. I need it.”
I pulled back and thrust in hard, the way he'd asked for. His back arched, a broken cry tearing from his throat, but it wasn't pain. It was relief, release, everything he'd been holding back finally breaking free.
I set a steady rhythm, deep and hard, one hand on his hip to keep him steady, the other braced on the mat beside him. Each thrust made him cry out, made him push back to meet me, desperate for more.
“You feel that?” I asked, driving into him. “You feel how strong you are?”
“Yes,” he gasped. “Yes, fuck, yes.”
“That's right. You're not broken. You're not glass.” I leaned over him, pressing kisses to his shoulder blade, his neck. “You're whole, Cord. You're so fucking whole.”
He made a sound between a sob and a moan, and his body clenched around me. Close, so close.
I reached around, wrapping my hand around his cock, and he came with a shout that echoed off the studio walls. His body clenched around me, milking my cock, and I followed him over, burying myself deep as I came.
We collapsed together, both breathing hard, sweat cooling on our skin. I stayed inside him, not ready to break the connection yet.
“How do you feel?” I asked after our breathing slowed.
“Whole,” he said, and the wonder in his voice made my chest tight. “I feel whole again.”
I pulled out and collapsed beside him on the mat. He rolled into me, pressing against my side with a satisfied hum. I gathered him closer, and he settled against my chest. This was supposed to be about healing, about helping him test his limits. But lying there in the aftermath, listening to his breathing slow, I couldn't help the grin spreading across my face.
Damn, that had been good.
Cord shifted, reaching for my hand and bringing it to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the inside of my wrist, then paused. “No wristlet?”
“I'm not a companion,” I said, threading my fingers through his. “I have a staff position. Yoga instructor. The rules are different for me. No one can pull me away for an assignment while I'm working.”
“So this—” He gestured between us with our joined hands. “This was your choice. Not part of the job.”
“Completely my choice.” I leaned in and kissed him, slow and easy.
He smiled against my mouth, deepening the kiss for a moment before pulling back with a wince. “Shoulder's reminding me it exists.”
“That's my cue to let you get dressed and get some rest.” I sat up reluctantly, already missing the warmth of him against me.
Cord rolled to his feet with careful movements, reaching for his discarded clothes.
After Cord left, I moved through the studio, still buzzing from the session. Yoga mats were scattered everywhere, and I smiled as I put them away, remembering how we'd ended up tangled together on the floor.
Blowing out the candles gave me time to come down from the high. Seven years working here, and I'd never hooked up with someone the same day I met them. Not that The Ranch discouraged it. Sexual freedom was kind of the whole point. But I'd always kept more boundaries with clients.
