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I shake my head. My face is probably bright pink. “No.”

He smiles, and it’s a real one—gentle and private, like a secret between us. “It’ll be good. I’ll go slow.”

“Are you…” I hesitate. “Are you going to f-fuck me?” The question comes out so small I can barely hear it myself, but Adrien’s entire body goes still.

“No,” he says, and the word sounds final, like a promise. “Not tonight. Not before you’re ready. Not before you’re begging for it, Kammie.” He says it in that voice that always makes me want to believe him, and as soon as he does, the tight band of anxiety around my chest loosens just a little.

“But—” I start, too embarrassed to finish.

He nudges my nose with his own, smirking a little as he says, “You want me to?” There’s no judgment in it, only curiosity.

I shut my eyes and nod, just once, shakily, before I can second-guess myself.

“Sweetheart, you are not ready for that, and I’m not going to hurt you. Not ever.” He kisses my cheek, my jaw, the tip of my nose. “I want you to feel good. Do you trust me to show you how good it can be?”

My tongue gets stuck in my mouth, but I manage another nod.

He kisses the corner of my mouth, then leans back to look at me. “Today, I just want you to know you’re never going to be disgusting to me. Not your body, not your tears, not your accidents. None of it. You are never going to push me away with anything you do.” His hands are still on my thighs, and the way he holds me—like I’m not breakable but precious—burns away everything cold in me.

He uncaps the lube and drizzles a clear ribbon onto his fingers, then warms it between his palms. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs, then slides his hand between my legs and rubs the slick over my hole.

I tense up, out of instinct more than anything else. He pauses, his other hand petting my thigh.

“Relax, Kammie. I’m not going to put anything in unless you want it. Just let yourself feel it.”

My whole body prickles. I can feel my heart thumping in my throat, the lingering fear and self-disgust mixing with a kind of anticipation I can’t explain. My legs open on their own, knees falling apart, and I make a high, shocked sound when his fingertip glides over me again, spreading the lube in slow, patient circles. It doesn’t hurt. It’s more… strange, electric, new.

“You’re so sensitive,” he says, and it sounds like he’s proud. “You were made for this, you know? For someone to take care of you.”

I can’t look away as Adrien’s thick finger moves in lazy, gentle laps around my hole, sliding over the slick skin. My legs tremble. The sensation is so new, so intense, that my mind blanks out everything except the pinpointed warmth of his touch and the ache between my thighs.

He cradles my knee in his other hand, keeping me spread open for him. It should feel humiliating, but it doesn’t. The only thing I feel is this sudden, impossible certainty that I want him to keep touching me forever, that I never want to close my legs again.

“Does it feel good?” Adrien asks, voice breaking low across my skin.

I nod, swallowing hard. “Y-yeah,” I say, but it comes out so faint I’m not sure he hears me.

“It will feel even better in a minute,” he promises, and then the ring of muscle softens under the steady pressure. His fingertip slips inside me—not far, just enough that my body clamps down, and I gasp.

He immediately stops, thumb stroking my thigh. “Too much?” he murmurs.

I shake my head, even though my body’s trembling in a way I can’t control. “No, I—I want it,” I manage. I must look so desperate, so needy. Adrien only smiles.

“Good. I’ll always give you what you want, sweetheart.” He nudges forward again, barely to the first knuckle, then stops. “I like that you’re honest with me, Kamden. That you try so hard to be good.”

The words make my chest fizz with something soft and bright.

He holds there, letting me get used to the feeling, then begins to move his finger in small circles, stretching me so gently that the burn gives way to a deep, tingling pleasure. My toes curl.

“You take me so well,” he croons, then leans down to kiss my chest, lips lingering on my skin as his finger works in and out, a little deeper each time.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what I’d do if I finally got to take care of you like this,” he continues, voice muffled against my collarbone. “About all the ways I’d make sure you felt safe and wanted. I want you to let me do that,” he says. “Let me take care of you. Not just like this—though that’s part of it—but all the time. All the ways you haven’t let anyone before.”

He moves his finger with exquisite patience, working me open, until the ache is replaced with a throbbing need.

“Do you know what a ‘little’ is, Kamden?” he asks softly, catching my chin with his other hand and tipping my face up so I have to look at him.

I shake my head, the motion jerky.