I think I can manage being collateral damage
Ever barely hears her warning—just the start of a gasp, the gods, the ragged edge of her voice as her body begins to shudder above him—and it's enough to split him wide open. Pleasure slams through him like a snapped cable, all tension and fire and release. His arms wrap tightly around her, one hand still pressed between her thighs, the other banded across her stomach, trying to anchor himself to something—anything—as his body convulses with each wave.
He buries his face against her back, into the space between her shoulders where her dress has slipped low, and moans against her skin, muffled and raw. The sound is torn from somewhere deep, entirely unpractised, as if his body is still learning how to feel this much without splintering apart.
His hips twitch helplessly beneath hers, cock pulsing deep inside her as he cums hard, drawn under by the feel of her clenching around him, by the faint scent of her hair, by the mirrored image that still burns into his mind. It’s too much and not enough, every nerve ending fired to full capacity and still reaching.
And even as his orgasm begins to ebb, he clings to her—not possessively, but like he needs her there to remember who he is. His breath is hot and erratic against her spine, and he can’t find words just yet. Only a soft, choked whisper of her name.
He buries his face against her back, into the space between her shoulders where her dress has slipped low, and moans against her skin, muffled and raw. The sound is torn from somewhere deep, entirely unpractised, as if his body is still learning how to feel this much without splintering apart.
His hips twitch helplessly beneath hers, cock pulsing deep inside her as he cums hard, drawn under by the feel of her clenching around him, by the faint scent of her hair, by the mirrored image that still burns into his mind. It’s too much and not enough, every nerve ending fired to full capacity and still reaching.
And even as his orgasm begins to ebb, he clings to her—not possessively, but like he needs her there to remember who he is. His breath is hot and erratic against her spine, and he can’t find words just yet. Only a soft, choked whisper of her name.
.
