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“Relax into it.” He added a second finger.

“I’m—yeah.” Whatever I’d been going to say was lost in the increased fullness. My body couldn’t seem to decide whether the new deeper pressure was good or not. I moved my hips restlessly. Monroe shifted from thrusting to a different kind of play, rubbing and stretching, an amplified version of the one-finger action I was more used to. The stretch was good, each scissoring action of his fingers adding to that laser-light effect until I made a happy noise. “Oh, that’s the part I like.”

“Mm-hmm. You can have all of that you want.” This was where his patience was the sexiest damn thing on the planet, the way he kept giving and giving, not seeming in a hurry to get to fucking. Inside me, that ball of anticipation grew and grew until my whole body was warm and wanting.

“Need…more.” I existed in that marvelous limbo land where the build to climax was unmistakable yet still far enough off to be both frustrating and intoxicating.

“Here. Let’s do this.” Withdrawing his fingers, Monroe fumbled for the towel I’d left nearby after my shower. After wiping off his hand, he flopped onto his back.

I frowned. “But I want…”

“I know. This is where you trust me, okay?” Pushing on my shoulder, he encouraged me to sit up and straddle his waist. “I want you on top. That way, you control it completely. You’re in charge. Whatever feels good, whether that’s just the tip—”

“Just the tip.” I snorted as he applied lube to his cock. We’d ditched condoms some weeks before, a casual decision born of an empty box and both of us coming off long dry spells where we each had negative test results and no intentions of taking on multiple summer partners.

“Whatever you want, Knox.” He was back to that solemn stare, where I believed in my soul that he truly would offer me every damn thing I could want. And lord, how I wanted. He held his cock steady at the base, more of that bottomless patience of his. “This is your show.”

Show. I liked that. I had always liked showing off, and all the attention on me felt far more comfortable framed as a show, something I could do for him. And I started that way, making an exaggerated display of rolling my hips, hovering above his cockhead, teasing us both. But then it started feeling better and better, little sparks racing up my spine as I mimicked what he’d done with his fingers, taking a little and then retreating.

“Wow.” As it turned out, not trying to take the whole thing removed a lot of my anxiety. It let me focus on the parts I did like, the stretch and burn, gradually going deep enough for glancing contact on my prostate but raising again before it could get overwhelming.

“Yeah. That’s it.” Monroe was all encouragement, one hand on my thigh, eyes hooded, so much approval and desire my chest contracted.

“Want it good for you too.” Showing off was all well and good, but guilt wormed its way past the pleasure.

“Trust me, remember?” He stroked my hip. “It’s fabulous. Everything about you does it for me. Watching you is sexy as fuck.”

“You like watching?” An idea flashed in my head, and I reached for my cock. Sure enough, Monroe smiled as I groaned. Felt decadent, teasing ass and cock at the same time.

“Hell, yes. You enjoying yourself is everything. Keep doing that.”

“What if I…?” I panted, everything suddenly way more intense. “Come?”

The edge I’d flirted with while he played was suddenly a lot closer, my body loving the combo of my familiar hand and the new sensations in my ass.

“Come. Don’t worry about me. Get yourself off on my dick.” He sounded like that was the top item on his personal wish list, as close to begging as I was.

“You want that?”

“You know I do.” He groaned as I started moving faster, little rocks and rolls of my hips, knees digging into the mattress. “Feels amazing. Come on, Knox.” His gaze was riveted on my fist as I stroked myself faster and harder, breath coming in shaky huffs. “That’s it. Let go.”

Suddenly, I wanted more than the tease and reached down to bat away his hand, which had been keeping his dick steady. In one smooth motion, I sank farther down, all the air leaving my lungs in a single low groan.

“Oh.” My thighs and abs trembled, everything slowing down and narrowing to the pressure in my ass and the pulsing tension at the tip of my cock. I needed to move, but it was almost too much, each new sensation more overwhelming than the last. “Monroe.”

“That’s it, sweetheart. I’m here.” The quiet reassurance, the steadiness of his voice, my absolute belief that he wouldn’t let me break was enough. More than enough. Another stroke. A little farther down. Back up. Again. And—

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