The command pushes me over the edge. Pleasure crashes through me in waves that make my back arch off the bed, his name tearing from my throat in a broken cry. He doesn’t stop—just gentles the touch, drawing out aftershocks until I’m trembling beneath him.
When I can breathe again, he’s watching me with an expression that makes my chest tighten. Not triumph. Something softer, more dangerous.
“Beautiful,” he says quietly, and the sincerity in his voice undoes something inside me.
I pull him down into another kiss, tasting the desire still simmering between us. His arousal presses insistent against my hip, hard enough that I know he’s exercising restraint he might not maintain much longer.
“I want—” I pause, trying to find words for what I’m asking. “I want all of it.”
Felix goes very still. “You’re certain?”
“Yes.”
He studies my face for a long moment, searching for hesitation he won’t find. Then he shifts his weight, stripping off the rest of his clothing with efficient movements that reveal him fully.
I try not to stare, but fail. He’s proportioned exactly how I expected—substantial in ways that make nervousness spike alongside the desire.
He notices my expression and brushes hair back from my face gently. The first press of him against my entrance makes me tense involuntarily.
“Breathe,” he instructs, one hand sliding between us to touch me again, rekindling arousal that makes my body relax. “Just breathe.”
He enters slowly, giving me time to adjust to the stretch and pressure. It burns initially—not quite pain but definitely discomfort—and I grab his shoulders harder.
Felix pauses immediately. “Talk to me.”
“It’s… give me a second.” I focus on breathing, on the warmth of his body against mine, on the way his hand keeps working between my legs sending pleasure that cuts through the discomfort.
He waits, perfectly still except for his fingers, until I shift my hips experimentally and the sensation changes from uncomfortable to something else entirely.
“My God,” I manage. “Keep going.”
He sinks deeper incrementally, watching my face for signs of pain, until he’s fully seated. The fullness isoverwhelming, bordering on too much, but when he starts to move the friction sends heat spiraling through my entire body.
“Alright?” His voice is strained, control barely maintained.
“Yes.” I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he groans against my throat.
The rhythm builds slowly—Felix keeping the pace measured despite the tension coiled through his body, giving me time to adjust and respond. Pleasure builds again, different from before, deeper and more consuming.
When he shifts the angle slightly, sensation spikes sharp enough to make me cry out. He does it again deliberately, driving into that spot with precision that suggests he’s memorizing what makes me respond.
“Touch yourself,” he instructs roughly. “I want to see you come apart.”
The command sends heat flooding through me. I slide my hand between us, finding the spot he’d focused on earlier, and the dual sensation of him moving inside me while I touch myself pushes me toward another edge.
“That’s it.” His pace increases slightly, control fraying. “Let go, Diana.”
The combination of his body driving into mine, my own hand working desperately, and the intensity in his voice as he says my name—all of it crests simultaneously.
I come hard, clenching around him in waves that make him curse and follow immediately, his rhythm stuttering as he finishes with my name on his lips.
We collapse together, breathing ragged, skin slick with sweat. Felix’s weight presses me into the mattress, and I should feel trapped but instead feel anchored.
When he finally moves, withdrawing carefully and rolling to the side, the loss of contact feels abrupt. I curl onto my side facing him, suddenly uncertain what happens now that the heat has dissipated into exhausted satisfaction.
Felix reaches out, tucking hair behind my ear with a gentleness that seems impossible from the same hands that held me down. “You okay?”
“I think so.” My voice comes out hoarse. “That was—”
