Page 110 of Dreamscape Therapies

When he’s finally fully seated inside me, we both freeze. I feel full, completely exposed, and yet, somehow, also safe.

“Okay?” he asks, his voice strained.

“Yeah. Move. Please move. Right now.”

He does just that, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in. The drag inside of me is incredible. He finds a rhythm that makes every single nerve in my body come alive. All I can do is cling to him, losing myself in the erotic sensation of his body thrusting against mine.

“Look at you,” he says, his voice rough. “Taking me so well.”

His praise sends shivers through me as I moan at his words, my cock leaking between us.

“You like that?’

“Yes,” I gasp. “Gods, yes.”

His pace gradually increases, his hips angling until he finds the spot that makes my thoughts scatter completely. I don't care how loud I am. I don't care how helpless I feel. For once, I don't need to be in control.

I trust him to take care of me.

“You’re so tight,” he groans. “Made for me.”

“Jay,” I whine. “Close. I’m close.”

“Not yet.” His hand wraps around my cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. “Wait for me.”

“I can’t!”

“Yes. Yes, you can.” His voice is commanding now, but there is still that underlying tenderness that keeps me feeling safe and worshipped.

I try, gods, I try, but the combination of him inside me and his hand on my leaking cock is too much. The building sensation, his voice, his hands, the knowledge that the man I love is holding me through all of it.

“Jay, please,” I gasp.

His eyes meet mine, his pupils blown wide in pleasure.

“Come for me,” he finally says. “Come for me, Jagiya.”

I come harder than I ever have in my life, my whole body shaking with the force of it as I bury my face in his neck. Jay follows seconds later, pushing himself deep as he comes inside of me, and we collapse together, both of us breathing hard.

Neither of us moves for several minutes. We lie in our sweat and cum and soak up the intimacy of what we just did. Then, Jay carefully pulls away, and I wince at the aching emptiness.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.

“Don’t be. That was… Fuck.”

He laughs, rolling to the side and pulling me against his smooth chest. “Good fuck or bad fuck?”

“The best fuck.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I turn to look at him. “Thank you.”

His expression turns tender. “For what?”

“For being patient with me. For making me feel safe.”

“Always.” He kisses my forehead.