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All I can do is nod as I feel him thrusting another inch inside me, my body feeling like it’s being stretched to its max.

“Baby, talk to me,” he orders, just as I feel him drive in deeper.

“A little busy here,” I groan, breathing through my nose.

“Should I stop?”

I shoot him a pointed look that should be answer enough. But when he still doesn’t move, I lose what little patience I have left.

“Just do it, Milo.”

“No. We’re going to take this slow,” he says, though the look in his eyes tells me he’s struggling just as much as I am.

“Just rip the fucking Band-Aid, Milo!!”

The words have barely left my mouth when Milo thrusts deep inside me, his crown hitting places I never even knew existed. The white-hot pain is instant, my eyelids squeezing shut on their own accord, as though that alone could somehow lessen it. He doesn’t move, just lets my body adjust to his size, and sure enough, a few minutes later, it doesn’t hurt nearly as bad.

“Max? Baby? Are you okay?”

I open my eyes, only to find that he’s the one in pain now.

“Are you?” I counter with a smile.

He draws in a shaky breath before swallowing.

“Ask me again in a minute.”

I let out a self-deprecating laugh.

“We’re really bad at this, aren’t we?”

“I don’t think we are. I think we’re perfect.”

I don’t need to stare into his eyes to know he means every word, and yet, I do. Even though he’s hurting, there’s so much love in his gaze that whatever discomfort I was feeling fades away in seconds.

I lift my head just enough to softly press my lips to his. I pour everything I feel for him into that kiss, hoping he can understand all the things I’ve never quite known how to put into words.

How much he means to me. How happy he makes me. How, despite everything we’ve been through, loving him is still the easiest thing I’ve ever done.

Milo kisses me with the same fervor, his body instinctively taking over, moving of its own accord.

This time, there isn’t any pain. Just love.

Between kisses and lovemaking, Milo tells me how much he loves me. How beautiful I am. How lucky he is to have me in his arms. He tells me there’s nothing about me he would ever change, that he loves every little thing that makes me who I am, even the parts I’ve never learned to love myself.

“Milo,” I sob, overwhelmed by his words and the sensations he’s drawing from my body.

“I don’t think my heart ever had a choice when it came to loving you,” he says thickly, his pace quickening until white light threatens to blind me. “But if I had to choose all over again, in this life or the next, I’d still choose you. Every single time.”

“Milo, I’m close. I’m so close.”

“I love you so much. So fucking much,” he groans before pounding into me in the most glorious way. “It’s always been you. It will always be you.”

My body convulses as he swallows every cry of pleasure, seconds away from following me over the edge, unwilling to part from me even in this.

When he finally pulls back, it’s only far enough to rest his forehead against mine, his breathing as uneven as my own. I keep my arms around his neck, unwilling to let him go just yet. I breathe him in as a certain peace washes over me.

Tomorrow doesn’t scare me half as much now.