“Do you want more?”
“Yes.”
I held him against my chest and followed the rhythm his body asked for.
His climax came suddenly.
He cried my name and shook in my arms, safely supported between my body and the mattress.
I stayed with him through every tremor.
When it ended, he sagged against me.
Neither of us moved.
Rain whispered against the windows in the quiet.
His heartbeat gradually slowed beneath my palm.
After several minutes, I asked, “Pain?”
“Two.”
“Head?”
“One.”
“Fear?”
“No.”
“Regret?”
A soft laugh escaped him.
“None.”
I smiled against his neck.
He shifted slightly, and the movement changed the pressure between us.
A small sound escaped him.
“Do you want me to move away?”
“Not yet.”
“You may be sore.”
“I already consider it worthwhile.”
I stayed until fatigue began to tighten his muscles.
Then I withdrew carefully.
Noah made a quiet sound of protest but did not ask me to stop.
I cleaned him gently, checking for any sign of pain or distress. I brought him water.
