“Good,” I say. “Then breathe.”
I slick my fingers and press one in, slow and firm. He hisses, hips jerking.
“Easy,” I whisper, curling it just right. “Let me in.”
I work him open carefully. No rush. Just the stretch, the sound of his breath catching, the slow softening of his body under mine.
When I’m satisfied, I pull back, unzip, and spit into my hand. It’s fast, messy, not perfect, but enough. I slick myself quickly, the sound obscene in the quiet.
Then I press the head of my cock to his rim, breath hot against his spine. “Ready?” I ask.
He nods.
“Words.”
“Yes, Max. Please.”
I slide in, slow, steady, inch by inch, until I’m buried to the base, and his body’s clenching around me like he never wants me to leave.
We both pause.
Breathing.
Burning.
I lean over his back, my chest against his spine, my mouth at his ear.
“You’re mine, Recon.”
“Yours,” he chokes.
I start to move. Long, deep strokes. Not fast. Not yet. Just letting the rhythm build.
He whimpers under me, pushing back to meet each thrust, his voice catching every time I hit the spot that makes him twitch.
“You feel what you do to me?” I growl. “You think I’m letting you go after this?”
“Don’t,” he gasps. “Don’t stop. Don’t let me go.”
“Never.”
I fuck him deeper now, gripping his hips, dragging wrecked sounds out of him like a confession. My name falls from his lips like prayer and surrender.
And when I feel him tighten, close, right there, I wrap my hand around his cock and jerk him in rhythm with my thrusts.
“Come for me,” I whisper, voice shaking. “Right fucking now.”
He shatters.
Head thrown back, mouth open in a silent cry, body clenching down on me as I thrust once, twice, and follow him over the edge, growling his name into his skin.
Dante
“No!”
The scream tears out of my throat before I’m even fully awake. My body jolts upright, soaked in sweat and blood, my blood. The scent hits me like a punch; it’s coppery, thick. I glance down at the sheets, stained rust-red, dried in a pattern that maps the pain still chewing through my shoulder.
I try to move it,fuck.It burns like fire, but the pounding in my skull is gone. That’s something, I guess.
