He groans, dropping his head onto my shoulder.“Fuck.”
Then he begins to move.Slowly at first.So slowly that I can feel every inch of him, every careful retreat and gentle thrust.The fullness becomes pleasure, and the pleasure becomes something deeper and richer, spreading through me until I’m clinging to him again.
“Devon,” I breathe.
“I know.”His mouth brushes my temple.“You feel incredible.”
His control is obvious in the tension of his arms, the strain in his voice, the way his movements remain measured even as his breathing turns ragged.
I wrap my legs around his waist.
He groans.“Baby.”
“More,” I whisper.
His eyes search mine.Whatever he sees there makes the last of his restraint crack.He kisses me hard and moves deeper, stronger, still careful but no longer holding back completely.The bed shifts beneath us.My body rises to meet his.Pleasure coils again, tighter this time, hotter, and I realize I’m not just being carried by it.
I’m chasing it.
My hands slide over his shoulders, down his back, feeling the muscles flex with every thrust.Devon’s mouth is everywhere—my lips, my neck, my collarbone—and his voice is rough in my ear.
“So perfect.”
“Taking me so well.”
“My beautiful girl.”
Each word drives me higher.The tension builds until I’m trembling beneath him, gasping, unable to do anything but hold on.
“I’m close,” I whimper.
Devon’s hand slips between us, his fingers finding the place still swollen and sensitive from his mouth.My back arches off the bed.
“That’s it,” he growls.“Come for me again.”
I do.
His name tears from my throat as I break apart around him, my body clenching and pulsing with pleasure so sharp that it steals my vision.
Devon curses, his rhythm faltering as he buries himself deep, shuddering above me as his release takes him.
For a long moment, neither of us moves.The room is quiet except for our breathing.
Devon’s weight is heavy and warm over me, but not crushing.I like it.I like being surrounded by him, held down by him, safe beneath him.
Eventually, he lifts his head.His eyes search my face.“You okay?”
I smile, tired and overwhelmed and happier than I know what to do with.“I’m okay.”
His expression softens in a way that makes my heart ache.He kisses me once, gentle and lingering, then carefully pulls away.I wince a little, and his brows draw together.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I say quickly.
He disappears into the bathroom, then comes back with a warm washcloth.My face heats when he cleans me, but his touch is so tender that I can’t stay embarrassed for long.
Afterward, he pulls back the covers and slides in beside me, gathering me carefully into his arms.I rest my cheek against his chest.His heartbeat is still fast.His thumb strokes my bare shoulder, his gaze turning serious again.
