…you walk in after a day that chewed you up, overloaded you, dragged you through every obligation until you could barely breathe. You try to hide it. You always do. But I see the tension in your jaw, the exhaustion in your eyes, the way your shoulders stay raised like you’re still carrying everything alone. Before you can speak, I take your chin between my fingers and make you look at me. That’s when the truth hits you. You’re safe. You’re done pretending. Your breath breaks and you don’t even fight it. You sink to your knees in front of me without a word, like your body has been waiting all day to finally give in. Your hands slide around my thighs, your cheek presses against me, your breath warm through the fabric. I feel the way your whole body softens, trembling from the release of finally not holding everything up by yourself. I thread my fingers through your hair and you tilt your face up, eyes already glassy with need. Not the kind born from lust alone, but from recognition, from obsession, from knowing I’m the one place you don’t have to be strong. “Open,” I say quietly. You do. Slowly. Desperately. Your lips part for me before I even touch you. When I pull myself free and press the tip against your mouth, you take me in with that greedy little sound you can’t hide. Your tongue is warm, eager, worshipful, like tasting me is the first real thing you’ve felt all day. I hold your hair in my fist and guide you down my length, steady, unhurried, until your throat tightens around me. Your eyes water instantly. You keep going anyway. Because pleasing me unravels you faster than exhaustion ever could. When I pull you off, spit drips from your lips to your chin. You look ruined already, and I haven’t even started. I lift you onto the bed, flip you onto your stomach, drag your hips up until you’re open and trembling for me. The second I push into you, you gasp, loud, broken, grateful. You’re soaked, desperate, clenching around me like your body has been begging for this all day. I fuck you deep, slow at first, then harder, forcing every leftover thought out of your head until your voice cracks into a moan that sounds like surrender. Your cheek presses into the sheets, your hands claw the fabric, your hips try to push back even as you’re falling apart under me. “There you are,” I whisper against your spine, thrusting into you harder, deeper, until your breath hits the edge of a cry. “Finally letting me in.” You shatter for me with your whole body, shaking, crying, clenching around me like you’re trying to pull me further inside you. And I don’t let you go. I stay buried in you, holding your hips still while your orgasm drags out in helpless waves. Only when you go limp, when your whole body melts from exhaustion into devotion, do I pull you back against my chest. My hands on your stomach. My breath on your neck. You breathe slowly again. Finally. And you whisper the truth you always try to hide. You need me. And I already knew…
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