I look at him once to make sure he is okay with me taking off his boxers, and he nods slowly. His dick throbs as I slowly stroke it. His head falls back, and a groan slips from his mouth, and it satisfies me, knowing I am the reason.
“Gosh, Aditi, you are going to kill me,” he mutters. His groan rumbles through his chest like a sound pulled from somewhere deep—primal and surprised, like he didn’t know he was capable of feeling this much.
I keep my touch light and gentle. Not for his sake—though of course I’m always thinking of him—but because I want to savor this. I want him to savor this. Every second of being wanted, seen, and safe.
His eyes flutter open, finding mine again. There’s a vulnerability in them that tightens my chest. But there’s heat too. Trust. Wonder.
He cups my face, pulling me up gently until our foreheads touch again.
“Aditi,” he murmurs like a confession. Like a vow.
I kiss him before he can say anything else—because I already know. I already feel it. In the way his hands tremble but don’t retreat. In the way he holds me like I’m the only solid thing he’s ever known.
He rubs his dick against my folds, and I suck in a breath. All I can remember is the ‘It won’t fit—it will’ trope from romance books, looking at his size.
When he finally slides into me, I shriek, and he stops. “Is this okay?”
“Yes,” I reply, “Are you fine?” He hums.
“You are so perfect, darling,” he rasps.
“I know,” I moan as he moves. “You are doing so well, Abhimaan.”
I need him. I need him to touch me; I need him everywhere. This man has a power over me; he can undo me just by his look, and having him inside me is a different feeling. I hook a leg around his waist, tugging him closer. He grips my thigh, holding me in place. My hips roll as I grind against him while I suck at his neck; he moans quietly.
He thrusts in me impatiently. His wand finds my ass as he squeezes it firmly, lifting me up. I yelp, “Is this okay?” He stops in his tracks.
“Shut up and continue, please,” I complain, disappointed at the halt.
“I belong to you, darling,” he whispers in my ears as his hand slips between us and he circles my clit; my eyes flutter closed at the pleasure I feel.
“Abhimaan,” I scream as his rhythm increases. His cock pulsates inside me as I feel my own release. He still holds me in his arms as we tumble together as we cum together. Our breaths are reckless, and I don’t know what to say because this man who trusted me with himself has left me breathless.
His chest heaves against mine, damp with sweat, but it's the look in his eyes that holds me still—stunned and undone.
We’re quiet for a while. The kind of quiet that says more than words could. My head rests on his shoulder, his arms still wrapped around me like I’m something precious he’s afraid to let go of.
“Are you okay?” I murmur softly against his collarbone.
He nods, but his fingers brush my hair back, tucking it behind my ear with more reverence than I thought possible. “I didn’t know it could feel like this,” he whispers. “Not just the...physical part. I mean this. Us.”
I press a kiss to his jaw. “It’s real.”
His throat bobs as he swallows, eyes flickering down to where our hands are tangled on his chest.
“I keep waiting for the moment you realize I’m too much to carry,” he admits quietly. “That I’m too broken to love like this.”
My heart clenches at the vulnerability in his voice.
“You’re not something I have to carry, Abhimaan. You’re someone I want to walk beside.”
He exhales shakily and cups my cheek again, like he still needs to convince himself I’m really here. “No one ever stayed long enough to say that.”
“Well,” I say, threading my fingers through his hair, “you’re stuck with me now.”
A small, disbelieving smile touches his lips. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
