His palm settled at the back of my head.
He did not push.
He held me as if he needed the connection more than the control.
I watched trust and pleasure spread across his face together.
“Cal.”
The name emerged rough and intimate.
I answered him without words.
His body tightened.
“I’m close.”
I slowed instinctively.
His fingers curled in my hair.
“Don’t stop.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
I gave him what he asked for.
Pleasure overtook him in a shuddering wave. His hand closed around my shoulder, and my name broke from him as he lost the last of his control.
I stayed close until the tension left his body.
When I rose, he looked dazed and luminous.
“Color?” I asked.
A breathless laugh escaped him. “We may need something beyond green.”
I kissed his cheek.
His arms came around me before he mentioned my pleasure or his ability to reciprocate. He simply held me, his face against my chest, letting the tremors pass.
The embrace mattered more than anything he might have offered afterward.
Eventually, his hand drifted down my stomach.
“My turn.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“I know.”
“You’re tired.”
“I don’t feel tired.”
“You will in approximately ten minutes.”
