Page 122 of Glitched Fates & Stolen Mates

I nodded into the pillow as our legs tangled together, Kit settling behind me.

The first blunt pressure at my entrance seized every muscle. Kit froze.

“Easy,” he whispered, mouth soft on my shoulder. “Just me. Just us.”

Forward again—the thick head of him breaching me with torturous care. Fire bloomed where he stretched me, so much more than fingers could prepare me for. Air stuck in my lungs as he pressed deeper, claiming territory one agonizing inch at a time.

“That’s it. Slowly.” Kit kissed a constellation of scattered stars against my neck. “Look at me for a second.”

I craned back to find his face, and the raw tenderness there punched straight through my chest. Like I was made of spun glass—something precious and fragile. His fingers combed through my hair with reverent, careful touches even as he split me apart.

He stretched me past my limits, the pain undeniable, but the reverence in every kiss—temple, cheek, shoulder, anywhere he could reach—made the burn sacred somehow. Intimacy so absolute it flayed me open, our breath tangling as he claimed me.

“I know it hurts,” Kit whispered, “but it’s going to feel so incredible soon.”

I exhaled hard through my nose—the only response I could manage. Kit fell statue-still as his still-slick hand moved to wrap around my cock, stroking me whilst he held position inside me.

“Are you… all the way in?” I managed to whisper.

Kit’s breath shuddered out. “Not quite, sweetheart.” The words sounded torn from him.

Not quite? My brain attempted to calculate the maths and immediately crashed.

His fingers tightened in my hair—not painful, just desperate. “Believe me, it’s taking everything I have not to just…” He pressed his mouth against my neck and groaned, his breath hot against my skin. “There’s no need to rush this,” he murmured, continuing those slow, careful strokes that were steadily rewiring my brain. “We’ve got all night.”

Pain and pleasure warred in my body—the burn of being split open battling the bliss of Kit’s hand coaxing me back to hardness. I clenched my eyes shut, swallowing down the tears that clawed at my throat as my body surrendered, finally softening around the invasion.

Kit’s hand increased its rhythm around my cock, the pain dissolving entirely. A soft whimper slipped free—half relief, half desperate plea. His answering groan rumbled through his chest pressed to my spine.

“More?” Voice like gravel, the barest hint of control.

Another whimper escaped me, pitched higher now. He pressed deeper. The stretch bloomed wider, but that knife-edge of pain was dissolving into fullness that scrambled my thoughts. Learning to yield, to welcome the beautiful destruction of him.

“Good,” Kit whispered into my hair. “So good, Felix.”

I made a soft sound of encouragement, hips shifting against him in invitation. He understood at once.

He took it as permission to claim more. Each inch felt earth-shattering—an eternity of sensation that crashed and rebooted my brain. Kit’s free hand mapped gentle patterns across my ribs, my stomach, anchoring me to reality while everything else spun away.

I felt the exact moment he bottomed out—hips flush against my ass, his breathing fracturing into a low, devastated moan that had my cock pulsing in his grip. Completely buried now, stretching me so wide I forgot how my lungs worked.

“See?” Kit’s voice cracked against my ear, utterly destroyed. “You’re made for me. Made for my cock.” Heat and desperation in every breath. “And now you’re going to lose yourself with me inside you.”

My lips refused to form words. Breathy little gasps were my only reply.

Kit began to move—slow withdrawals that left me aching, followed by careful thrusts that liquefied my spine. Deliberate at first, unhurried. But as my gasps melted into hungry moans, as I started pushing back against him, his restraint began to crack.

Soon he was driving into me with deep, punishing strokes that set the bed singing beneath us. Even as his hips snapped faster, more urgent, his hands stayed worshipful—caressing every inch of skin with infinite tenderness, fingers mapping every curve and hollow.

“Does it feel good now?” Lips ghosting over the shell of my ear.

A shattered moan spilled out of me, my head dropping back to his shoulder. Every cell in my body hummed, pleasure cascading through me, drowning me in waves too deep to surface from, dragging me to warm, endless depths.

“You’re absolutely fucking perfect,” Kit growled, grip tightening around my cock. “Look at you, taking me so well.”

Another sound tore from me—half whimper, half sob. His words became white noise, that endless stream of praise washing over skin I could barely feel anymore. Something was unravelling inside me, like falling through space and floating simultaneously. My consciousness frayed at the edges, reality collapsing until nothing existed but Kit’s body claiming me, filling me, making me his.

The world untethered around me, like I might tumble right through the sheets into infinite darkness, or maybe drift up through the ceiling into the stars. Kit’s voice became distant, underwater, though his words still vibrated against my throat. This body wasn’t mine anymore. It belonged to him now, every cell screaming his name.