Sean moans at my touch then reaches around and grips my cock, placing the tip right at his entrance.
“I’ll be gentle,” I whisper, and I mean it. Every touch, every movement, is deliberate, careful, reverent. He’s my mate. He deserves nothing less than my complete attention and care.
“Only at first,” he says with that mischievous smile. “Then, don’t be. Gentle, I mean.”
He takes control first. It takes a few attempts. There’s lots of deep breathing, as I watch his beautiful face relax as he stretches around me.
“Okay,” he says with rounded lips.
He’s riding me—slow, steady, deliberate—letting me feel him in a way I’ve never felt before. My dick settles inside his warmth, and I grasp his hips, desperate for more contact. He pauses now and then, breath hitching, adjusting, until finally he sinks almost all the way down, closes his eyes, and exhales, “Now that’s what I needed. A hot, nerdy, gargantuan cock inside me.”
The smallest laugh escapes my mouth. It’s overwhelming. Euphoric. Completely new. I let go of everything—control, thought, restraint—and just feel him: the heat, the pressure, the wonder of being completely connected to my mate.
I reach up, splay my hands over his chest, and play with his nipples the way he’s been igniting mine. The reaction is immediate. He gasps, rolls his hips harder, hungrier, taking me even deeper. I’m lost in it—lost in him—in the way he moves, the sounds he makes, the way my body fits his like aglove.
“Look at you,” I murmur, voice rough. “Taking my long, fat cock like such a good boy.”
His grin widens, wicked and proud as he bobs up and down, his erection bouncing in time.
“That’s it.” My voice sits low in my throat. “Ride my cock.”
I pull him down for a kiss. My dick’s still buried deep, and I murmur into his neck, “You’re perfect, Sean. And you’re mine.” My glasses slip down the bridge of my nose, catching on his cheek, but I don’t care. All I can see is him—his flushed cheeks, his trembling smile, the way he shudders when I breathe against his ear. I want to memorize every reaction, every gasp, every shiver.
“Okay.” He slips off me and crawls onto the bed, settling on all fours—open, waiting, offering himself up.
“I’m ready for you to rail me.”
“Damn, Sean.” I push my glasses up, taking in the sight of him like this.
I lean forward, spread him wider, and stare at his gorgeous ass. Open and ready for me. I run my tongue along his hole, tasting him, tasting us. The sound he makes drives straight through me. I grab the lube, slick both of us up, and move into position.
And then I’m inside him again—Sean, my mate—really fucking him. Hard. He’s moaning, biting the blanket, pushing back to meet every intense thrust. As he opens up more, I feel it—the angle, the rhythm—until my cock hits that spot inside that makes him moan with pleasure and the tip of my horn brushes that sensitive spot between his balls and hole with every plunge.
“Greg—you—that—holy fucking balls.”
I laugh, grip his hips tighter, and pull him back so he feels it even more. The sounds he makes, the way his body yields to mine—it’s more than pleasure. It’s trust. It’s belonging. And, gods help me, it’s everything I never thought I’d have.
“Good boy,” I say. “You’re my beautiful good boy taking my cock. And you’re mine. All mine.”
We find a rhythm—Sean thrusting back, me driving in, then pulling almost all the way out, leaving just the head of my dick throbbing inside his slick hole before plunging back in. It’s the perfect fuck, every movement synced, every breath shared, and I wish I could stay inside him forever, connected like this.
But then it hits—the first pulse of release winding tight, curling my toes. The warning spark before everything detonates. And through the haze of pleasure, a flicker of logic breaks through. We’re in Sean’s apartment. On his bed. His clean, dry bed.
“Wait,” I pant, pulling out just enough to breathe. “Hold on.”
Sean blinks up at me, flushed and wrecked. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just—trust me.”
I turn him around and scoop him up easily, still buried inside him, and carry him to the bathroom. He laughs breathlessly, arms around my neck, as I step into the tub. With his legs wrapped around my waist, I resume fucking—deep, steady, urgent—and the sound of our skin meeting echoes off the tiles. The change ofposition, the new angles, the closeness, the feel of his body pressed to mine—it’s overwhelming. Sean tilts his head back, eyes rolling, and all thought dissolves.
“Greg.” He says my name so softly that if I weren’t perfectly tuned to him, I’d miss it.
We pause, the air thick with heat and trust. My arms tighten, pulling him closer.
“I’m close,” he murmurs, voice rough. “Are you?”
“So close.” My cock pulses inside him, so ready.
