Page 27 of Omega’s Fealty

The heat comes back up under me while I am lying there. I feel it come. The ache low in my belly isn’t an ache anymore. It was temporarily sated by what he just did but the satisfaction didn’t last long.

I am hollow and I need filling. Slick comes out of me fresh and warm and I hear him breathe in.

“Please,” I say. I barely even know what I am begging for. It is pure instinct, just as pure instinct tells me that he is the only one who can give it to me.

He gets his jeans open. He doesn’t take them all the way off, just gets them down his thighs, and I look.

I have nothing to compare it to except that I know it is big, thick and dark and wet at the head. I am not afraid.

I should be, but somehow I am not.

He gets his fingers wet in the slick running out of me. He watches my face and puts one inside me.

It is strange. It is so strange, the feeling of someone inside my body, and then he moves and I forget about the strangeness because this is the most incredible thing I have ever felt.

I push down onto his hand and he gives me another. He goes slowly. He goes so slowly I could scream. He works me open with two fingers and then three, and each time I tense up he stops and waits and kisses my knee or my thigh or the inside of my wrist until I ease, and then he goes on.

“You’re doing so good,” he says. Low. “Look at you. You’re doing so good for me.”

Nobody has ever told me I am doing well at anything that was for me.

He takes his fingers out and I make a sound at the loss and he shushes me. He gets the pillow and puts it under my hips. He lines himself up. He looks at me and he waits.

“Yes,” I say. “Yes. Please.”

He pushes in.

It hurts. Not much. A stretch and a burn, and then the head of him is inside me and he stops and holds there with his arms shaking on either side of my head. The whole of him is shaking.

“Breathe,” he says, and I realize I haven’t been. I’ve been holding my breath in, completely absorbed by the fullness of him.

I breathe. He goes in further. Slow. So slow. I feel every part of it, him opening me up, the drag of him inside, the fullness of it that is like nothing I have ever imagined. He stops again. Goes on. And then his hips are against me and he is all the way in.

He doesn’t move. He stays there inside me and he puts his face down next to mine and breathes against my ear.

I put my arms around his neck. I put my legs around him. I hold on to him with everything I have.

“Okay?” he says, into my hair, like me being okay is something he genuinely is interested in. The concept is alien enough that it takes my breath away. He actually asked.

“Yes.”

He moves.

He pulls out a little and pushes back in and I feel it in my entire body. He does it again. He finds a rhythm that is slow and deep and steady. He just holds it, and every time he pushes in the heat in my belly goes up another notch, and I am making sounds against his shoulder that are little more than inane babbling.

He lifts his head and kisses me. His hand is on my face. His thumb is on my cheekbone. He is looking at me the way he looked at me when I took the mask off, as if he can’t believe I am there.

I can’t believe he is. What is this? I have no concept for it.

He shifts his angle and hits something inside me and I cry out.

“There,” he says. “That’s it. There.”

He does it again and again and I am gone. I don’t know what my body is doing. I am clenching around him and clawing at his back and my cock is caught between our stomachs and every stroke drags it against him, and he is saying my name.

Not “Highness.”

Aurelio. He says it over and over, like he has been wanting to.