“Fuck,” he breathes.

I nuzzle into his neck. My dick is painfully hard, but this is about him. I want him ready. Comfortable.

“You turn me on so fucking much,” I groan, thrusting against his hip for some friction. “I love watching you.”

“Oh god,” he moans. I slip my finger out and press a second one in beside it, pushing them both in gently.

“You’re taking it so well. I’m so fucking proud of you.” I lick his neck. He moans louder now, rocking his hips into my hand.

“That feels… good,” he breathes.

Fuck, yes.

“That’s what I like to hear.” I smile, biting softly at his neck. I curl my fingers and that’s when his hand flies to the back of my head, gripping my hair tight.

“Oh fuck! That feels so fucking good.”

“There it is,” I whisper. “Yes, baby. Keep telling me.” I rock my dick into his hip again.

“More. I need more,” he groans through his teeth.

“Not until you can handle three. Do you think you’re ready?”

He nods fast. “Please. Fuck!”

I smile and press in the third finger. He tenses again, so I reach for the lube, coat my fingers, and slide them in more easily. His back arches as all three sink in.

“Caleb, fuck,” I moan, my dick leaking against his hip. I adjust myself between his legs, getting a better view. His stomach flexes with each thrust of my fingers.

“Can’t believe you’re all mine,” I groan.

I start to pump my dick slowly, but stop quickly—one more stroke and I’ll lose it.

“All yours.” Caleb pants. “Do it. I’m ready.”

That’s my cue.

I slide my fingers out, grab more lube, and slick my dick, moaning as I stroke it. But nothing—nothing—will feel as good as being inside him.

“Do you trust me?” I ask, leaning over him.

His half-lidded eyes meet mine. “I love you, Nathaniel. Yes, I trust you.”

My heart explodes. I wasn’t expecting him to say that. Holy fuck.

He loves me.

“I love you too,” I breathe. The weight of unspoken feelings finally lifts.

I line myself up with his entrance. “I fucking love you,” I say again. Because it feels so damn good saying it out loud.

He nods, his eyebrows slanted as I press in—slow, careful.

“You’re such a good fucking boy,” I whisper, biting my lip. He’s tight—so tight. I hold back everything just to keep it together.

“Do it again,” he begs.

I shift slightly out, then in again, slowly pushing past that first ring of resistance.

I moan. “So good,” I rest my head on his shoulder, guiding myself in, inch by inch.

He clutches my shoulders, pulling me closer, maybe without even realizing it.

Finally, I bottom out. I gasp for air, overwhelmed. His heat, his tightness—it’s everything.

“You feel so fucking good.” I rush out. “I’m trying so hard not to come. Are you okay?” I lift my head and look into his eyes.