Rei Lemon

The glow of the television washes the living room in soft, shifting light, some familiar comfort show murmuring in the background as you sink deeper into the corner of the sofa. The apartment still carries that faint in-between feeling that always follows a trip, your half-unpacked suitcase sitting by the wall, your carry-on slouched near the entryway. You scroll through Moments without really seeing much of it, your thumb moving on autopilot as photos and captions blur together, and when your eyes flick to the time in the corner of the screen, a quiet sigh leaves you – it’s past midnight. You only got back yesterday, but it annoys you that your body still refuses to remember what time zone it belongs to.

With a small frown, you toss your phone beside you, only to reach for it again a few seconds later. Sleep feels nowhere near, but so does doing anything useful. Your gaze drifts back to the screen, catching on the photo you posted from the trip a few hours ago. For a moment, you just stare at it, thumb hovering near the comments before you see a new notification at the top of your screen, and your breath catches.

Valko.

You stare at his name for a second before tapping on the message, your pulse giving one traitorous flutter as the chat opens.

‘Why are you still up??’

Your finger lingers above the keyboard, a smile already tugging at your lips, before you type back.

‘Why are you up?’

His reply comes quickly.

‘I asked you first.’

A quiet laugh slips out of you.

You shift further into the corner of the sofa, glancing toward the television even though you are no longer paying attention to whatever scene is playing out on the screen.

‘I’m still a little jet-lagged. Can’t sleep.’

For a few seconds, nothing happens.

Your thumb brushes the edge of your phone as you stare at the screen, suddenly wondering whether that sounded too flat. Maybe you should have added something else. Maybe –

Another message appears.

‘Then can I come over and keep you company?’

You sit up so quickly the blanket pooled over your legs slips halfway to the floor.

For a moment, you can only stare at the words – it’s such a simple message, but the thought of Valko here, in your apartment, at this hour, sends a rush through you that makes it impossible to stay curled up on the sofa like nothing happened.

You try to sound casual as you type back.

‘Sure.’

His answer appears almost immediately.

‘I’ll be there in twenty.’

Your eyes widen.

Twenty?

You glance down at yourself, at the pajamas you changed into after your shower. You push yourself off the sofa, hurrying to the bathroom to make yourself more presentable.

By the time you step back into the living room, changed into your new loungewear – an oversized sweater and a pair of shorts – and a light layer of makeup, your heartbeat has still not quite calmed down.

And then you nearly jump out of your skin.

There, just beyond the glass, Valko is already waiting outside on the balcony.

Your hand flies to your chest before you let out a quiet breath, your nerves settling almost as quickly as they spiked. What did you expect? Of course he used the balcony again, like it is a perfectly normal substitute for a front door.

You step closer and slide the door open. Before he can even get a word out, you point toward the entryway and try your best to sound serious.

“You need to immediately take off your shoes and put them by the front door like any other normal person would.”

A grin pulls at his mouth, and a soft chuckle slips from him as he steps inside. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” you say, with as much dignity as you can manage, even though you already feel far too giddy to properly stay in character. “Those are the rules.”

He does exactly as he’s told, walking over to the front door to slip off his shoes and leave them neatly where they should be.

You don’t really get a chance to say anything before he closes the distance between you and pulls you into a hug.

It’s warm and almost a little too tight, the kind of hug that steals your breath for a second, but you don’t care, not when his arms are around you like this. You tuck your face against his chest, breathing him in, and something in your chest loosens.

You missed this. Two weeks wasn’t even that long, but the moment his arms close around you, it hits you how much you’d been craving this exact feeling. The solid warmth of his body, the way he hugs like he means it, the faint familiar scent of his skin.

You squeeze him a little tighter, hoping he can’t feel how reluctant you are to let go.

“I missed you,” he murmurs against the top of your head.

A smile presses against his chest.

“I’m happy to hear that,” you say softly.

His arms loosen just enough for him to pull back and look at you, though his hands still linger at your waist.

“Only happy to hear that?” he asks, head tilting just a little. “You didn’t miss me at all?”

Your heart gives another hard, hopeless thud.

With the way he is looking at you, warm and teasing and still standing too close, it’s hard to hold onto any version of coolness for very long. So you say nothing, only glance away as if that will somehow hide the fact that your pulse is stumbling all over itself.

When he finally lets you go, the loss of his warmth feels immediate. His gaze flickers over you. It’s brief, almost nothing at all, but you catch it anyway – the quick dip of his eyes, the split-second pause that lingers just a touch too long before he looks back up.

Heat stirs low in your stomach.

If he noticed the bare stretch of your legs beneath the sweater, he does not say it.

Then his gaze drifts past you, over the living room.

You follow it, and only then do you properly take in the small signs of the last two days still scattered around the apartment. It’s not a mess, but it’s enough to make you realize, with a small jolt of horror, that while you had been busy changing, fixing your face, and deciding whether those shorts were too much, it had not once occurred to you to make the place look more presentable.

Valko glances back at you, amusement already tugging at his mouth. “You really made yourself at home.”

You stare at him.

Then at the open suitcase, then back at him.

“I – ” You stop, because there is truly no dignified recovery from this. “I just got back.”

His laugh is soft and boyish, bright with amusement, and before you can fumble your way into a proper defense, his hand comes up to rest lightly on your shoulder.

“I’m teasing,” he says. “Relax.”

Something in your chest loosens at once, though the embarrassment still lingers warm at your cheeks.

“You’re annoying,” you mutter, without much conviction.

He only grins and walks past you toward the sofa, entirely too pleased with himself, and drops down onto it, one arm spreading along the backrest.

You stand there for a second, trying not to think about the fact that he’s in your apartment, at almost one in the morning. Instead of sitting down beside him, you linger on your feet and start folding the few clothes left draped over the armchair, because you need something to do with your hands.

For a little while, the conversation comes easily – you ask him what he was doing up so late, and he tells you he got caught up researching something and lost track of time, and then he asks you how the trip was. As you smooth one of the shirts between your hands, you tell him that it was beautiful, that you enjoyed it more than you expected, that you and your friends managed to explore a few cities in between all the wedding preparations, though by the end of it you were exhausted from helping with everything. Even so, you admit that it had been worth it, because seeing your friend that happy, that deeply in love, had made all of it feel strangely tender and a little overwhelming in the best way.

The words trail off there for a second, because the memory rises too clearly, your friend smiling through tears, music drifting through warm evening air, the soft gold of the lights, the feeling of standing just outside someone else’s happiness and being moved by it anyway. You pause with the folded fabric still in your hands. When you look up, Valko is already watching you in that way of his that makes it seem like he notices more than he lets on.

So you shake yourself out of it before the moment can linger too long, and with a softer laugh, you steer the conversation somewhere lighter, telling him that the food alone had probably been worth the trip, and that you would have enjoyed it even more if you had not managed to spill some of it on your dress before the night was over.

“That’s a shame,” he says. “You looked beautiful.”

A soft flutter moves through your stomach, and for a brief second, you remember the small rush of giddiness you felt earlier when the notification popped up and you saw that he had liked the photo. Heat rise to your cheeks. “Thank you,” you murmur.

You clear your throat softly and glance toward the suitcase.

“Oh, right,” you say. “I almost forgot.”

His brows lift a little as you cross the room and crouch beside the half-open case, pushing aside a few last things until your fingers find what you had tucked in carefully. When you straighten again, you are holding a small sachet of dried flowers and a box of chocolates.

Valko watches you come back toward him, his expression shifting into mild confusion. “What’s that?”

You stop in front of him and hold the two things out. “A gift for you,” you say, “The flowers are from a little shop near where we stayed,” you explain. “They smelled really good, and they made me think of you. And the chocolates are from a local chocolaterie.”

A quiet breath leaves him, almost like a laugh, though there is something more touched than amused in it.

“That’s... really nice of you,” he says. “Thank you.”

You shrug. “It’s nothing.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not nothing.”

Before you can answer, he reaches for you.

His hand catches your wrist gently and tugs you closer, and the next thing you know, you are half stumbling onto the sofa as he pulls you down beside him and gathers you into another hug, and a startled little laugh slips out of you.

His cheek brushes your temple, and then his lips do too. “You’re sweet,” he murmurs.

For a moment, you simply let yourself stay there, tucked against him on the sofa.

“So,” he says, leaning back, “are you feeling sleepy yet?”

You shake your head. “Not at all. I’m wide awake.”

His gaze lifts toward the digital clock on the wall, and the faint crease that appears between his brows makes you want to laugh a little. “It’s past one,” he says, glancing back at you. “That’s a problem.”

You tilt your head. “Is it?”

“Yes,” he says, with enough seriousness to make the corners of your mouth twitch. “It is. We need to get you to sleep.”

Your lips pull into a small pout. “But you said you wanted to keep me company.”

His expression softens with amusement. “I do want to keep you company, but you should really get your sleep sorted out.”

The pout lingers, growing just enough to make him narrow his eyes at you like he already knows you are about to be difficult on purpose.

“So you said you missed me, and now you’re trying to get me to go to sleep. Rude.”

Valko looks ready to answer right away, but then he stops. His mouth closes again, and something shifts in his expression – a glint of mischief appears in his eyes so suddenly and so familiarly that you know you’re in trouble.

“Oh,” he says slowly, his grin beginning to spread, “so that’s what this is?”

Heat starts rising before you even know where he is going with it.

“Are you saying you missed me too?” His smile widens. “You just want to spend more time with me. Is that what you’re saying?”

Your whole face goes hot.

For a moment, you can only stare at him, feeling the burn spread across your cheeks as your mouth opens and closes once, then again, with absolutely nothing useful coming out. Valko’s grin only widens at your silence, clearly delighted with himself, and before he can say anything worse, you reach up and grab his cheeks between your fingers, squishing them without mercy.

“Ow, ow, ow,” he protests, though the laugh in his voice ruins any real attempt at sounding injured. “No need for violence!”

You let go, trying to look far less flustered than you feel, while he rubs at his cheeks with both hands and gives you a faint little pout that does nothing to make him less smug.

“Well,” you say, refusing to let him have the last word so easily, “you’re awake at this hour too, so why don’t you go to sleep?”

He leans back into the sofa, still rubbing one cheek as if you have truly wounded him, and lets out a thoughtful hum. “You know,” he says after a moment, “you’re right. The research I was doing didn’t help. My brain is still working through it, so I should probably try to relax too.”

His gaze drifts around the apartment then, over the sofa, the blankets, the cushions, and when he looks back at you, there is something almost casual in the way he says, “I can stay here, if you want. I can sleep over and take the sofa. Your apartment is cozy, after all.”

Your heart gives a quick, sudden flutter.

Then he pauses, glances toward the half-open suitcase by the wall, and adds with a grin, “Even with all this mess around.”

You smack his shoulder and he only laughs, like he had been waiting for exactly that reaction.

“Well,” you say, trying, and failing, to hide your smile, “if you think the sofa will be comfortable enough, then sure. You can stay over.”

Before he can find something else to tease you about, you pat your hands against your thighs and start to stand up. “Okay, then,” you say sweetly, already turning away. “Goodnight.”

Valko’s hand catches your waist before you get more than halfway up, stopping you without any real effort. A soft, amused laugh escapes him, like he knows exactly what you’re doing.

“No, no, no,” he says, gently pulling you back down beside him. “Now we both have to help each other fall asleep.”

You glance at him, unable to keep your smile from slipping through. “Oh, so that’s how it is?”

“That’s exactly how it is.”

Valko grabs the blanket you’d been using and spreads it over both of you. “We can watch whatever you had on,” he says, nodding toward the TV.

You settle deeper into the sofa, close enough that your knee brushes his beneath the blanket. For a while, neither of you says much. Then, slowly, his arm slips along the back of the sofa and curls around your shoulders, drawing you gently against his side – and you can’t help but lean into him.

At one point, you see him nuzzle lightly into the blanket – that sweet, familiar habit of his that always made you smile.

The episode plays on. A few small comments pass between you, easy and low, but gradually his body grows heavier against yours. His head tips until it rests lightly on top of yours, and his breathing slows into deep, even breaths.

You go still, listening.

A smile tugs at your lips when you carefully tilt your head to glance up at him.

His eyes are closed.

So much for his very serious plan.

Carefully, so you do not jostle him too much, you lift a hand and give his arm a small nudge. “Hey,” you murmur. “You’re gonna hurt your neck like that.”

He makes a soft sound first, then shifts against you, his cheek brushing against your hair before his eyes crack open only halfway. There is a moment where he looks thoroughly confused, caught between sleep and waking, and then his brows draw together faintly as if he is trying to remember where he is.

“Hey…” he mumbles, voice drowsy. “I’m supposed to be the one helping you sleep.”

“You’re doing a terrible job,” you whisper back, smiling as you say it.

He exhales a sleepy, half-formed laugh and instead of pulling away, sinks closer, his arm tightening around you.

You stay quiet for a moment, letting the comfortable silence settle between you. Then Valko’s voice breaks it, barely more than a murmur when he asks, “Did you miss me?”

The question is simple, stripped of any teasing. For a second, you just look at him – at his sleepy face, at the hopeful, searching look in his eyes.

“Yes,” you say softly. “I did.”

His arm tightens just slightly around you.

“I was really happy to see you tonight,” you add after a moment. “I know it was only two weeks, but it felt longer than that. And with everything getting busy again soon...” You trail off, then glance up at him. “I just wanted a little more time with you, I guess.”

Valko is quiet for a moment, his thumb brushing slowly against your side. Then he shifts slightly, turning more toward you. His gaze drops to your lips for a heartbeat before returning to your eyes, and the air between you feels suddenly heavier, sweeter.

His other hand lifts slowly, and when it settles against your upper back, the touch sends a small shiver through you. Then his hand slides higher, fingers spreading gently at the back of your head, cradling you there. You feel yourself drift closer, and he does the same.

Then his lips press against yours.

The kiss is soft and warm and careful. You melt into him. One of your hands holds onto the fabric of his hoodie, your body pressing closer of its own accord as happiness blooms through you so suddenly and so completely it almost feels unreal.

When your lips part, neither of you moves far.

Then he looks at you again, his gaze is softer than before but clearer too.

“I like you too much to pretend this is nothing,” he says, his voice soft and unguarded. He holds your gaze for another second. “Tell me if this is what you want too.”

Your answer comes easily. “I do.”

A small smile touches his mouth, sweet and a little disbelieving.

Then you lean in and kiss him again.

The hand at the back of your neck stays steady as he kisses you, and when your fingers slide from his chest to curl around the back of his neck, his breath catches softly against your mouth.

His mouth parts against yours, and when your tongues meet, the sensation is warm, slow, and so intimate it makes a deep shiver run through you. The slide is unhurried at first – soft, wet strokes that make heat bloom low in your belly. His tongue brushes against yours in ways that make your toes curl and your thoughts melt away. Then he gently catches your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a soft, teasing nibble before soothing it with another slow pass of his tongue.

You make a small, helpless sound into his mouth, pressing closer, and he answers with a low hum that vibrates through you. The kiss grows deeper, more consuming, but never rushed – every stroke of his tongue leaves you dizzy, aching in the best way, your body melting even further into his hold.

When the kiss finally breaks, you stay curled against him, forehead resting lightly against his, your breaths still uneven.

Neither of you moves for a long moment.

Then you pull back to look at him. “The sofa’s not that comfortable. You can… sleep in the bed with me. If you want.”

His eyes soften, that small smile returning. “I’d like that. A lot.”

While he heads to the bathroom, you slip into your bedroom and freeze for a second. The bed is still a mess from earlier – clothes scattered everywhere from when you’d frantically tried on different loungewear before he arrived – your cheeks burn at the evidence of how much you’d wanted to look nice for him.

You move fast, scooping everything up in armfuls and jamming the pile into your closet. Then you quickly change into your own pajamas: a loose shirt and flowy shorts. From the back of your closet, you pull out the biggest oversized t-shirt you own, with a goofy graphic and a band’s name splashed across the front.

By the time Valko returns from the bathroom, you’re already settled on the now-tidied bed, heart fluttering.

You hold the oversized shirt out to him. “Here. It’s the biggest one I have.”

He takes it from you, eyes crinkling with amusement as he reads the front. “Nice choice,” he teases. “Didn’t know you were a fan.”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up and just put it on.”

Instead of stepping out, Valko stays right there in front of you. With that easy confidence of his, he reaches back and tugs the hoodie off in one smooth motion. The movement pulls his t-shirt up slightly underneath, revealing a glimpse of his toned stomach and the sharp cut of his hips before the fabric falls back into place. He peels that off too, and for a moment you forget how to breathe.

Broad shoulders, the hard strength of his arms and chest that you’ve felt against you so many times, now fully on display in the soft glow of your bedroom lamp. Your gaze traces the lines of his body before you can stop yourself, lingering on the way his muscles shift as he unfolds the oversized shirt, then dipping lower to the faint trail of hair on his lower stomach.

Then he unbuttons his jeans.

The soft sound of the zipper feels impossibly loud in the quiet room. He pushes them down his hips and steps out of them, leaving him in just his boxers. The fabric clings to the firm lines of his thighs and the unmistakable outline underneath, and your face burns. You know you should look away, but you can’t.

Valko catches you staring.

A knowing smile curves his mouth, “Enjoying the show?”

You immediately avert your gaze. “No.”

You turn off the last light and climb into bed.

He chuckles softly and finally pulls the t-shirt over his head. A moment later he joins you, pulling the blanket over both of you as he settles on his side facing you.

For a second, you just look at each other in the low glow of moonlight from the window. Then he reaches out, sliding an arm around your waist and drawing you closer until your bodies press together again.

“You okay?” he asks softly, the same careful warmth in his voice from earlier.

You nod, tucking your face against his chest, breathing him in. “Yeah.”

He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head… then another to your forehead… then, when you tilt your face up, to your lips.

This kiss starts slow and sweet, like the first one, but the closeness of the bed changes everything. Your hands find his chest again, sliding over the soft, worn fabric of your own shirt on him. He tastes like toothpaste, and the warmth of his body pressed against yours under the covers makes your head spin. One of your hands drifts up to the back of his neck, fingers threading gently into his hair, while his arm tightens around your waist, pulling you even closer until your legs tangle together.

A soft sound escapes you when his hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt, palm warm and broad against the bare skin of your lower back. The touch is gentle, almost reverent, but it sends a slow shiver through you all the same. He pauses there, thumb stroking small circles against your spine, as if checking whether you want him to stop.

When you press closer instead, he lets his hand explore further, sliding up the curve of your back, mapping the warmth of your skin like he’s been wanting to do this for just as long as you have.

The kiss breaks only so you can both catch your breath, but his mouth doesn’t go far. He trails soft, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, then lower to the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. When his teeth graze there lightly, your breath hitches.

“Still okay?” he whispers, voice husky now, lips brushing your skin with every word.

“Yes,” you manage, a little breathless. “Don’t stop.”

Valko makes a low, pleased sound deep in his chest. His hands slide to your waist, and with gentle strength he rolls you both over so you’re on top. He helps you settle, guiding your legs until you’re straddling his hips.

For a moment you brace yourself on your hands, hovering just slightly above him. Your heart is racing – nervous, excited, and suddenly worried about settling your full weight on top of him.

Valko looks up at you. One of his hands stays on your hip while the other smooths slowly up your back.

“Come here…” he murmurs. “All of you.”

When you hesitate for half a second, he adds gently, “Just relax.”

Carefully, you lower yourself until your full weight rests on him. The moment your chest presses fully against his, a quiet sigh escapes both of you. He feels so solid beneath you – the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the warmth of his skin, the firm strength of his body supporting yours so easily. Your legs settle on either side of his hips, and the intimate press of him right between your thighs makes heat bloom low in your belly.

Valko’s arms wrap around you immediately, one hand splaying wide across your lower back, the other sliding up between your shoulder blades to hold you closer. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck with a deep inhale, breathing you in.

For a long moment you just stay like that – bodies aligned, hearts beating against each other. Then he gently nudges your face with his, and you tilt your head down to meet him.

His lips move against yours, and when the kiss deepens, it happens gradually – tongues brushing, mouths opening wider, breaths growing a little heavier. The weight of you on top of him, the way your bodies fit together so completely, makes everything feel more intense. You can feel the hard line of him pressed right against your core, and the sensation sends little sparks of pleasure through you with every tiny movement.

Still a little shy, still a little uncertain, you roll your hips in one slow, experimental movement. The friction drags right where you need it most, pulling a soft, involuntary sound from your throat. Valko groans – low, rough, and completely unguarded – the sound vibrating against your mouth. His arms tighten around you instantly, and the way he pulls you down against him makes it clear just how much he felt that.

“Fuck…” he breathes against your lips. “Do that again.”

Emboldened by his reaction, you roll your hips again, grinding down against him. The pleasure sparks sharper, deeper. You can feel every inch of him through the thin layers of fabric separating you, and the way his body responds – the way he twitches underneath you – makes your stomach flutter.

Valko meets you on the next roll. He rocks his hips up into yours in a slow, deep rhythm, pressing firmly against your core with each movement. His hold on you never loosens – he keeps you flush against his chest, bodies moving together in a slow, rolling grind.

The kiss grows sloppier, hotter – tongues slide deeper, mouths open wider, little wet sounds mixing with your shared breathing. You feel his heartbeat hammering against yours.

“You feel so good on top of me,” he murmurs. “Keep moving just like that, baby.”

Valko’s hands are everywhere. One stays anchored on your hip, guiding your movements, while the other slips under your pajama shirt, palming the soft skin of your back, then sliding down to squeeze your ass. He pulls you down harder against him on every roll, making sure you feel exactly how hard he is.

Then his hand moves between your bodies.

He presses two fingers against the front of your shorts, right over your core. The moment he touches you, you realize just how soaked you are. The fabric is warm and damp, clinging to you, and the pressure of his fingers makes the wetness even more obvious. A flush of embarrassed heat rushes through you, but it only makes you ache more.

Valko groans deeply into your mouth, the sound raw. “You’re so wet,” he murmurs. He rubs slow circles over the soaked fabric, pressing just right against your clit through the layers. The sensation makes your hips jerk, a sharp little whimper escaping you.

He pulls back from the kiss just enough to look at you, breathing hard. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, but there’s a flicker of hesitation there too. His throat works as he swallows, and when he speaks, his voice has the slightest tremble in it.

“Still okay?” he asks, fingers still gently pressing against your soaked shorts. He pauses, searching your face. “Can I…?”

You nod quickly, cheeks burning. “Yeah,” you whisper, barely audible. “Please.”

A soft, relieved breath escapes him.

He shifts just enough to reach between you. With one hand, he tugs his boxers down far enough to free himself, his cock springing up hot and heavy against your inner thigh. With the other, he hooks his fingers into the crotch of your pajama shorts and panties, tugging the soaked fabric to the side. The cool air hits your slick, exposed folds for only a second before the blunt, burning heat of his tip presses right against your entrance.

The slight sting of his girth against your sensitive opening makes you inhale sharply. Still, your thighs tremble as you fight the instinct to sink down all at once.

Valko’s eyes never leave your face. His breath is shaky, his grip on your hip almost bruising as he visibly holds himself back from thrusting up.

“Easy, baby,” he murmurs, voice low and strained. “Just relax… I’ve got you. Trust me.”

He rocks his hips up in the tiniest, careful movement, letting just the head slip inside you. The stretch is intense – a burning, aching fullness that makes your mouth fall open on a quiet, broken sound. You feel every thick inch as he slowly works you open, his eyes locked on yours the entire time, watching every flicker of sensation across your face.

Another shallow thrust, and he sinks a little deeper. His hand on your hip keeps guiding you down slowly, patiently, even as his own breath trembles and a low groan escapes his lips. You can feel how much he’s holding back – the tension in his arms, the way his fingers dig into your skin, the way his cock twitches inside you with the effort of going slow.

He presses his forehead to yours, nuzzling your nose, his voice dropping to a whisper between heavy breaths.

“Just a little more… that’s it. You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart.”

He keeps guiding you with those slow, shallow thrusts, working himself deeper. Each gentle push stretches you further, the thick heat of him dragging against your walls in a way that makes your breath hitch and your fingers curl against his shoulders. The slight sting is still there, but it’s slowly melting into something warmer, fuller, more overwhelming.

Finally, with one last careful roll of his hips, he bottoms out completely.

A soft, broken sound escapes you as he fills you to the hilt. Your walls flutter around him, clenching instinctively at the overwhelming sensation of being so completely taken.

Valko goes very still beneath you, breathing hard against your neck.

He whispers your name. “Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?”

You take a shaky breath, then nod against his shoulder, melting a little more in his embrace. “I’m okay,” you murmur, voice soft and a little breathless.

The tension in his body eases at your words. He pulls you even closer, if that’s possible, until there isn’t a single inch of space left between your bodies. Your breasts press against his chest, your stomach against his, your thighs snug around his hips.

“Just stay like this for a moment,” he whispers, lips brushing your ear. “Let me feel you… all of you.”

You melt into him completely.

He starts kissing you again – first pressing his lips to yours, tender and sweet. Then to your flushed cheek. Then along the line of your jaw. When he reaches your neck, he lingers there, nuzzling into the sensitive skin with a deep inhale, breathing in the scent of you as his lips trail soft, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your throat. Every kiss sends warm little sparks through your body, making you shiver and clench around him.

You feel completely surrounded by him. He makes you feel soft and safe and wanted in a way you’ve never quite felt before.

After a few long, still moments of just feeling each other, Valko starts to move.

He rolls his hips up in one slow thrust, pressing himself even deeper inside you. The drag of his thick length against your walls pulls a shaky moan from your throat. He does it again, and again – careful but steady, letting you feel every inch as he fills you completely with each roll.

You start moving with him.

Your hips begin to roll in a slow rhythm, grinding down to meet his upward thrusts. The pace is yours, and he lets you set it. Every time you sink down onto him, his cock grazes all the right spots inside you, sending sparks of sharp pleasure through your core. You can feel how wet you are – how your slick coats him completely, making every slide smoother, wetter, hotter. You angle your hips just right so that with every downward roll, your clit grinds against his pelvis. The added friction makes your thighs tremble. Pleasure builds fast and heavy, coiling tight in your belly with every movement.

You can’t stop looking at him.

Even in the low, dim light of your bedroom, he looks devastating. His eyes are heavy-lidded, dark with lust, but locked on your face like he doesn’t want to miss a single detail. His lips are parted and glistening, soft groans and quiet curses falling from them every time you sink down on him. His hair is slightly messy from your fingers, and the way his jaw clenches when you roll your hips harder makes your heart stutter.

You roll your hips faster, chasing that building pleasure with every grind of your clit against his pelvis and every deep stroke of his cock inside you. The slick sounds of your bodies meeting grow louder, wetter with every movement. Your walls flutter and clench around his thick length, coating him even more with your arousal as the pressure inside you coils tighter and tighter.

A broken moan of his name slips from your lips – “Valko...” – raw and needy. The sound of it makes your cheeks burn – you feel suddenly exposed like this, riding him so shamelessly, your voice sounding so desperate, your body moving on instinct. The wave of pleasure is cresting dangerously close, and the intensity of it makes you shy for a moment.

You duck your head, hiding your face in the warm crook of his neck, breathing in his scent as you keep rolling your hips.

You know Valko notices. Instead of pulling you back, he cradles the back of your head with one large hand. His voice is full of affection as he murmurs against your ear.

“You can stay right here, sweetheart. Just feel it… That’s it. Come for me.”

His words, the steady praise mixed with the way he keeps thrusting up to meet your rolling hips, push you right over the edge.

With one more deep grind of your hips, your orgasm crashes through you. Pleasure surges hot and overwhelming, ripping a muffled, trembling cry from your throat against his neck. Your walls clamp down hard around his cock, pulsing and fluttering. Your thighs shake, slick gushing around him as you come hard, soaking his length and pelvis. Valko groans deeply, the sound vibrating against your chest, and holds you even tighter, his hips still moving with yours – slow, deep rolls that help you ride out every last pulse of pleasure.

Your hips gradually slow, then finally still as the last ripples of your orgasm fade into a warm, glowing haze. You stay draped over him, breathing hard against his neck, your heart still racing wildly in your chest.

After a few long seconds, you finally gather the courage to lift your head from its hiding place. Your face is glistening with sweat, your cheeks are burning, your hair slightly messy as you meet his gaze. You’re still catching your breath, lips parted, eyes a little dazed.

When your eyes lock, the intense heat in Valko’s gaze melts into something more tender. A small, gentle smile curves his lips as he looks up at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen. The hand that had been cradling the back of your head slides forward to graze your cheek with his thumb, stroking it with slow affection.

“There you are…” he murmurs, voice low and fond. “Hi, pretty girl.”

He searches your face for a moment. “Are you okay?” he asks softly, thumb continuing its gentle caress. “Do you want to keep going?”

You feel a sheepish little smile tug at your lips. You nod, still a bit breathless, cheeks warming even more under his attentive gaze.

“Yes,” you whisper.

His smile deepens, soft and warm. “You want me to take over?”

You nod again, a little quicker this time. “Yes, please.”

Valko’s gaze lingers on your face for a moment, an almost reverent smile curving his lips as he takes in the sight of you in front of him.

“Just relax for me,” he whispers against your temple, pressing a lingering kiss there. “Tell me if it gets too much, okay?”

After you nod, Valko doesn’t waste another second.

He captures your lips in a slow, deep kiss as he begins to move beneath you. His hips roll up in long thrusts, driving his thick cock deeper into your soaked heat with every stroke. One arm stays locked around your back, pressing your chest flush against his, while his other hand keeps your shorts and underwear tugged to the side so he can fuck you properly.

He keeps kissing you through it – slow and messy, tongues sliding together as his pace gradually picks up. His breath grows heavier against your lips, and between kisses he whispers –

“Am I doing good? Tell me… fuck, I need to hear it.”

You’re already losing yourself in the rhythm of his thrusts, the way his cock stretches and fills you so perfectly. The answer slips out of you in a hazy, breathless mumble, half-coherent and soaked in pleasure.

“You feel so good…” you moan, voice breaking. “Fuck – you’re so big… filling me up so deep…”

Valko groans loudly at your words, the sound low and guttural. His grip on you tightens, and his thrusts grow a little harder, a little faster, driving up into you with more purpose. The wet slap of skin on skin grows louder as he fucks you deeper, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot with devastating precision.

“Yeah? You like how deep I’m fucking you?” he rasps against your lips, voice thick with lust. “You’re taking me so well… so wet and tight around my cock. I could stay buried in you forever.”

You whimper at his filthy words, clenching hard around him. He keeps that perfect rhythm, holding you close, kissing you like he never wants to stop, while his cock drives into you again and again, pushing you closer and closer to the edge once more.

You can feel him starting to throb inside you, his rhythm beginning to falter as he gets closer to the edge. His thrusts grow a little rougher, a little more desperate.

He must feel how you’re close too, because your hips have started moving on their own, grinding down to meet every thrust. His breath stutters against your mouth.

“You close again, baby?” he groans, voice strained and low. “Fuck… I can feel you squeezing me so tight.”

You nod frantically, whimpering as another wave of pleasure builds fast and hot. “Yes – I’m close… please, Valko, go faster – ”

He clenches his jaw, a deep, guttural sound escaping him as he tries to hold back. His hips snap up harder, but you can tell he’s right on the edge.

“I’m too close,” he rasps, almost apologetic, still fucking you deep and steady. “If I go faster, I’m not gonna last – ”

“It’s okay,” you breathe, voice trembling with need as you roll your hips down to take him even deeper. “It’s fine, just – don’t stop. Please.”

Valko lets out a wrecked moan, his grip on you tightening almost painfully. He buries his face in your neck for a second, breathing you in, then pulls back just enough to look at you with dark, desperate eyes.

“Where can I finish?” he asks, voice hoarse and filthy. “Where do you want me?”

Without hesitation, still grinding down on his cock, you whisper against his lips –

“Inside. I want you to come inside me.”

Valko’s control finally snaps.

With a deep, guttural groan, he buries himself to the hilt in a few hard, fast thrusts. You feel every powerful spurt as he fills you up, warm and wet, his cock twitching deep in your pussy while he keeps rolling his hips in sloppy thrusts, pushing his release even deeper.

The sensation of him coming inside you sends a fresh wave of heat crashing through you. You’re right on the edge again, but you stay still for him, letting him use you however he needs, your body soft and pliant on top of his as he rides out the last pulses of his orgasm.

Then he pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, voice wrecked and breathless.

“Move, baby… don’t stop. Chase it. I want to feel you come on my cock again.”

You hesitate for half a second, worried it might be too much for him, but he doesn’t let you overthink it. His hands grip your hips firmly and start guiding you, encouraging you to roll and grind on him again.

You nod, eyes locked with his, and start moving.

You ride him through the mess, feeling his warm cum leak out of you with every roll of your hips, slick and obscene, coating both of you. His cock is still hard inside you, but you can feel how oversensitive he is now – the way he twitches and throbs helplessly with every movement, like it’s almost too much.

He meets your rhythm with shallow, desperate thrusts, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other grips your hip hard enough to bruise. His eyes stay locked on yours, heavy-lidded and burning, even as his breath turns ragged and broken.

Valko groans, low and wrecked. “That’s it… fuck, just like that,” he rasps, voice tight and strained. “Come on my cock, baby – you’re squeezing me so fucking tight… Good girl, so fucking good…”

It doesn’t take long.

Pleasure slams into you harder this time. You come with a trembling, broken cry, your walls clamping down around his oversensitive cock as another orgasm rips through you. The feeling of his cum leaking out around him with every pulse makes everything wetter, filthier, messier. Slick and cum mix between you as you grind down on him, thighs shaking violently.

This time you don’t hide your face. You stay right there, eyes locked with his, letting him see every second of it – the way your lips part on a silent gasp, the way your whole body shudders and tightens around him.

“Fuck – yes, baby… look at you,” he groans, voice slurred and desperate. “So fucking pretty when you come… good girl…”

His wrecked praise sends a fresh wave of heat through you, drawing out the pleasure for a few more trembling seconds. Then the intense peak of your orgasm slowly fades, leaving you utterly spent. You collapse completely on top of him, your cheek pressed against his chest as you try to catch your breath. Your body feels heavy, hot, and spent in the best possible way. Valko’s arms wrap around you, holding you close as he stays buried deep inside you, his cock still twitching with the last aftershocks. Neither of you makes any move to separate.

You nuzzle back into the crook of his neck, breathing in the comforting mix of his skin, sweat, and your own scent on him. His hands move slowly over your back in long, soothing strokes, fingertips tracing gentle patterns along your spine.

For a long while, you simply rest like that – tangled together, hearts slowing down, his warmth surrounding you completely.

Eventually, his voice breaks the comfortable silence, low and gentle against your ear.

“You okay?” he asks, still stroking your back. “Feeling alright?”

You manage a small nod against his neck, too tired and floaty to form proper words. A tiny, satisfied hum is all you can offer.

He chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath you.

After a few more quiet, peaceful minutes, you finally shift. You slowly push yourself up on shaky arms and lift your hips. The moment he slips out of you, a low, disappointed groan escapes Valko’s throat. The sound is so genuine that you can’t help but let out a soft, breathless chuckle.

“We should probably clean up,” you murmur, still smiling.

He nods, but there’s a playful pout in his expression. Before you can move away, he cups your face with both hands and pulls you down into a slow, sweet kiss. It’s softer than anything that came before – gentle, lingering, and full of affection. When he pulls back, his thumbs brush over your cheeks, and his eyes are warm and tender in the afterglow.

 “You feeling sleepy now?” he asks, a hint of playful teasing in his tone.

You let out a soft, embarrassed little laugh. The reality of everything that just happened is starting to settle in, making your cheeks warm all over again.

“Yeah… I think I am,” you admit.

He chuckles quietly, but then that familiar warm smile returns as he pulls you back down into his embrace. He presses a lingering kiss to the top of your head.

“I never want to let you go.” He whispers.

The smell of your favorite takeout hits you before you even get the door fully open. Your hand stills on the handle, your bag slipping lower on your shoulder as you step inside and find Valko standing in your kitchen with the paper bags open in front of him, transferring food onto plates. A small smile tugs on your lips, because there is something ridiculous and tender about the sight of him there, too tall for the space, too broad beside your cabinets.

Valko looks up as soon as he hears you.

“There you are,” he says, his voice warm with the usual excitement.

You close the door behind you. “I’m impressed,” you say. “You were smart enough to order takeout instead of trying to cook without me.”

He huffs out a laugh, glancing down at the plates. “I know my strengths.”

You manage another smile as you take off your shoes by the door and set your bag on the small table near the entry.

In the kitchen, Valko keeps moving, the plates clinking as he finishes dividing the food. “How was it?” he asks. “You had a good time?”

You head toward the sink instead of going to him, reaching for a glass from the cabinet before you answer. “Yeah,” you say, filling it with water. “It was good.”

You take a sip of water and keep your eyes on the glass.

You hear Valko move behind you, and when you turn, he is near enough that you have to tilt your chin to meet his eyes.

“Hi,” he says, softer now, like the first greeting had not counted because he had been too far away.

“Hi,” you answer.

He leans in for the kiss he always takes when you come home to him. You give him just a quick press of your mouth to his, and then you pull back with your glass still in one hand and your other palm braced against the counter.

Valko does not comment on the kiss, but you catch the brief change in his face before he turns back toward the food, a small crease between his brows, there and gone quickly enough that you could pretend you missed it.

“So,” you say, lifting your glass again as you move closer to the food, “what did you order?”

His gaze stays on you for another moment. “The usual,” he says, reaching for one of the containers, “and something from the new place across the street because I wanted to try it.”

“Of course you did.”

“It looked good.”

“You say that about everything.”

“Not everything.” He opens another box and tips his head, considering it. “Most things.”

Despite yourself, you smile as you step beside him, looking over the spread he has arranged – the familiar dishes are there, warm and fragrant, but there are two new ones too, both still steaming as he moves them onto the plates. “Okay,” you admit, “that does look good.”

“Obviously,” he says, with the confidence of someone taking credit for cooking it himself. “And if we’re having cocktails later, we should eat properly first. Especially you.”

You let out a small chuckle, setting your glass down. “Yeah, yeah. You’re probably right.”

Valko asks if you want to eat at the table or on the sofa, and you say, “Sofa’s fine,” without really looking at him.

This time, he does not move back to the food.

You notice the way he turns fully toward you instead of only glancing over.

“Okay,” he says, his voice lower now. “What’s wrong?”

You shrug too quickly. “Nothing.”

His eyes stay on your face. “I know you.”

“It’s really not a big deal.”

“Then tell me.”

You breathe out through your nose and look away first, because the last thing you want is to drag the ugliness of it into your kitchen. Still, the words come out after a moment, plain and clipped, enough to explain but not enough to make a whole scene out of it. You tell him that, on your way back, some jerk threw a crude comment at you, that you ignored him, that it annoyed you more than you wanted it to, and that it was stupid anyway.

By the time you finish, your own mouth has twisted with irritation.

“Whatever,” you mutter, shaking your head as if that can knock the feeling loose. “It doesn’t matter – ”

When you glance at Valko, the look on his face makes the rest of the sentence disappear.

His jaw has gone tight, the easy warmth from a minute ago pulled into something harder and much less familiar. You have seen him annoyed before, but this is different.

“It’s not nothing,” he says.

The roughness in his voice catches you off guard, even though you know it’s not aimed at you.

You shrug again. “It’s fine. It’s not the first time, probably won’t be the last, so there’s no point making it into something.”

“Don’t do that.”

You pause.

His tone has gone firmer, and when you look back at him, his attention has not moved from you. For a second, neither of you speaks. His expression shifts into something more careful, and his shoulders ease a little as he reaches for you.

Your body moves before the rest of you catches up.

You take a small step to the side, barely anything, but enough for his hands to stop between you.

You turn toward the counter, taking the plate. “It’s not worth thinking about,” you say, a little too lightly. “Let’s just eat.”

For a moment, you can feel him watching you, and you keep your attention on the food. Then he picks up his own plate and follows you to the sofa, giving you enough room to sit first before he settles beside you.

The TV comes on a minute later, filling the silence. Valko eats beside you, quieter than usual, though his attention keeps coming back to you.

Instead of pressing you further about what happened, he asks about your friend.

The question helps more than you expect. You tell him about the bookstores you wandered into and the café you found by accident, all pretty lights and beautiful little details, with coffee that was better than you expected and dessert good enough to make you regret not ordering a second one.

As you talk, the better parts of the day start coming back in pieces.

You remember the table by the window, the sound of your friend laughing across from you, and the comfort of staying longer than planned because, for once, neither of you seemed to be rushing anywhere.

He listens like the details matter.

You are grateful he doesn’t ask why you stayed out longer than you said you would. He could have. The two of you had plans, and he had still come over on time, still ordered dinner, still waited in your apartment while you turned an afternoon coffee into nearly three hours outside. Instead of making you feel guilty for enjoying it, he seems pleased that you did.

You tell him about the lipstick your friend gave you. “She gave it to me because she thought the color would suit me,” you say, glancing toward your bag near the entryway. “It’s still in my purse.”

Then your gaze drifts to him.

He is already dressed for later, and you notice it properly now that you are sitting beside him. He looks handsome enough that, on any other night, you would have teased him for it immediately, just to see the pleased little spark in his face when he realized you had been looking.

You glance down at your plate instead. “You know, we don’t really have to go out.”

Valko turns his head toward you.

“We can just stay in,” you continue, already reaching for a lighter tone. “We still have food, and we could try to make dessert or do some terrible homemade cocktails. Then we can just cuddle and watch something.”

You expect him to agree before you finish speaking.

Valko has never needed much convincing to stay close to you for hours, especially when there is food, a sofa, and an excuse to tuck himself around you until you can barely move. It is one of the things you love about him, how openly he wants the simple comfort of being near you, how little shame he has about reaching for it.

Instead, he pauses.

His face shifts into something more serious, and the change is small enough that anyone else might miss it. You do not.

“Do you want to stay in,” he asks, “or do you just not want to be seen tonight?”

You stare at him for a second. Part of you wants to be annoyed that he did not take the offer, because staying in would be warm and easy and comfortable. Another part of you knows this should not surprise you at all. Valko is sweet, almost painfully so sometimes, but he has never been the kind of sweet that lets you hide behind a convenient lie.

You look away first. “I’m a little tired.”

He keeps his attention on you.

“I know you dressed up,” you add, softer now. “Sorry, I just – ”

“That doesn’t matter.”

You stop.

He sets his plate on the coffee table and turns more toward you. “If you’re tired, we stay here. I’ll make bad drinks, you can tell me they’re bad, and I’ll still pretend I did well.” His mouth curves slightly, though his eyes stay serious. “But I’m asking if that’s the real reason.”

You press your lips together.

He waits, and somehow that makes it harder.

After a moment, you stand and take both plates. “I’m just going to rinse these.”

Valko lets you go, then follows with the empty glasses, taking his place beside you at the sink. The two of you work in silence for a minute, you rinsing, him clearing the leftovers and wiping the counter, the routine familiar.

Then he speaks more quietly.

“We can go out,” he says. “You can wear whatever you wanted to wear.”

Your hands slow under the warm water.

“I’ll be there,” he adds. “You can just enjoy your night. If someone wants to be stupid, I’ll handle it.”

The words warm your heart, and this time the smile that comes to your face feels genuine.

The question is still there, waiting for an answer you do not have yet.

“I’m going to take a quick shower,” you say.

Valko nods. “Okay.”

*

By the time you come out of the bedroom, your skin is glistening from the body lotion, your makeup is fixed, and the dress you picked for tonight is smoothed down over your thighs, though the zipper sits open along your back where you couldn’t reach it.

You pause in the doorway with one hand holding the fabric in place.

The living room has changed while you were gone. Only the lamps are on now, with pillows and a blanket spread across the sofa and a TV show playing quietly in the background. Valko’s waiting on the sofa, and when he sees you, his attention lifts immediately, his face easing into a smile that is softer than his usual grin.

You suddenly feel a little shy standing there with your back half-open and your dress held together by your fingers.

“Can you zip me up, please?” you ask.

Valko stands without making you ask twice.

His fingers find the zipper carefully, and his other hand settles near your shoulder blade just long enough to keep the fabric steady.

When he finishes, he lets his hands fall away before you turn to face him.

“So,” he says, looking you over with a small smile, “we’re going out.”

You nod, smoothing your hands down the front of the dress. “Yes. Unless you really want to stay in now.” Your gaze flicks toward the sofa, the blanket, the pillows, the room made soft for you. “It looks like you already started getting comfortable.”

Valko shakes his head. “I was ready for either answer.”

That makes something in your chest loosen.

His eyes move over your face, then settle on your lips. “Do you need to finish your makeup?”

“Oh.” You glance toward your bag. “Yes, actually.”

Valko stays where he is while you use the mirror by the door, giving you space to apply it without leaning over your shoulder.

You press your lips together, studying the color first, then the rest of your reflection. A pleased smile forms on your lips, your posture straightening a little as you look at yourself.

“There she is,” Valko says softly.

You turn toward him, suddenly flustered by the realization that you were almost posing in front of the mirror while he watched.

“You look beautiful,” he says.

“Thank you,” you say softly, your cheeks still a little warm.

Shortly after, you leave the apartment together.

*

By the time you return to the apartment, the warmth from the cocktails has already begun to fade, leaving behind only a pleasant looseness in your body and the ache in your cheeks from smiling so much.

Valko holds the door open for you, and you step inside with your heels clicking softly against the floor. After he slips out of his shoes, he heads towards the kitchen while you stay at the entryway, still taking off your heels.

While he pours the water, you look at him properly.

You had noticed him before you left, of course, but now you let yourself linger on it – the way his hair has fallen slightly out of place, the fabric of his shirt pulling around his biceps, the rolled sleeves showing his forearms. He looks unfairly handsome like this, and the sight of him makes something sweet spread through you.

When he comes closer and hands you a glass, he catches you staring.

“What?” he asks, smiling because your expression must be giving you away.

You take the water from him and let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Nothing.”

“That doesn’t look like nothing.” His eyes narrow playfully. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No.” You take a sip, then lower the glass, still smiling at him over the rim. “I was just thinking that you look really handsome tonight.”

The faintest color rises in his face.

“I see the alcohol is still in your system,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “It’s mostly gone.”

“Mostly?”

“I can feel my feet again,” you say, glancing down at your feet. “That’s how I know.”

Valko laughs under his breath.

“Sit down, sweetheart,” Valko says, taking the glass from your hand before you can ask why.

You let him lead you to the sofa, where he drapes a blanket over your lap.

“Stay here,” he says.

“Where else would I go?”

“With you, I never know.”

You make a face at him, but he only smiles and disappears toward the bathroom.

For a minute, you sit there with the TV playing in front of you, your glass of water waiting on the coffee table. You can hear him moving around in the bathroom, the rush of water, the opening and closing of a cabinet.

When he returns, he’s carrying a basin filled with warm water, faintly cloudy from the bath salts dissolving inside.

Your expression softens. “Valko.”

“What?” he says, setting it carefully on the floor in front of the sofa. “Your feet hurt.”

You look down at the water, then back at him, and the fondness in your chest feels almost too full for something so simple. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.”

You dip your feet into the basin, and the first touch of warm water makes your eyes close for a second as you sink deeper into the sofa.

Valko sits next to you, looking a little pleased with himself.

By the time the episode ends, the water has cooled and your whole body feels heavier in the best way, softened by the warmth, the drinks, and the steady comfort of Valko’s presence beside you.

He gets up before you can decide whether you should move, disappearing into the bathroom and returning with a towel in his hands. When he sits back down, he spreads it over his lap, then pats it lightly.

“Feet here.”

You lift your feet from the basin and place them over the towel on his lap. Valko wraps the towel around one foot first, drying you with gentle movements, then does the same with the other. He folds the damp towel aside and places your foot between his hands, pressing his thumbs into the sole.

“Oh,” you breathe, your head falling back against the cushion. “That feels really good.”

His mouth curves, but he keeps his eyes on what he is doing. “Good.”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

The TV keeps playing, though you stop following the episode after a while.

Your attention drifts instead to his hands, to the way they move over your foot and up to your ankle, then higher to your calf when he shifts closer and draws your leg a little more securely across his lap.

A soft smile stays on your face.

You look from his hands to his profile, letting yourself linger on the slope of his nose, the line of his jaw. He looks calmer now than he had earlier, though there is still something attentive in him, something that keeps checking on you without needing to ask every few minutes.

Valko’s thumb presses into a tender spot near your heel, and you let out a small sound.

He glances at you.

You clear your throat and look back at the TV as if you have been paying attention the whole time.

His smile deepens, but he says nothing, only continues the massage on the other foot with the same patience.

After a while, Valko’s hands slow, his thumbs resting lightly against your arch as the episode continues playing in front of you.

You draw your legs back slowly, feet settling on the floor as you turn toward him. Valko’s gaze follows, shifting from your face to the way you’re leaning closer now.

“Tired?” he asks, softer than before.

You shake your head. “Not yet.”

Your eyes drift to his lips. When you glance up, he’s already watching you with that adoring gaze that stirs butterflies in your chest. He leans in just a fraction, then holds there, waiting.

So you close the rest of the distance yourself.

The first kiss is gentle, almost testing, your mouth brushing his before you press closer. Valko answers immediately, one hand lifting toward your back while the other stays on the sofa, giving you room to decide how much of him you want.

You kiss him again, longer this time, letting yourself sink into the warmth of his mouth, and the low sound he makes when you lean in more fully sends a pleased little shiver through your body.

After a few moments, you sit up and move before you can overthink it, swinging one leg over his lap until you are straddling him.

You slide your hands to his shoulders, then up to the sides of his neck, feeling him beneath your palms, solid and close and real. His hands settle against your back and pull you nearer before one slides down to your calf, almost absentmindedly, his fingers finding the same sore place he had been working on before. The touch is still gentle, still soothing, but now it runs through you differently as his thumb presses into your skin while his mouth moves over yours.

A small sound slips from you.

Valko’s hand pauses for half a second, then continues, slower than before.

You smile into the kiss, and he catches it, his mouth curving against yours as his palm slides along your calf. Your dress rides higher over your thighs as your fingers curl lightly at the back of his neck, and every slow movement of his hand makes you lean into him more.

Your heart beats harder in your chest, a sweet ache spreading low in your belly as his fingers trace idle patterns along your skin. You pull back just a little, and the words slip out in a soft whisper against his lips.

“Take me to the bedroom.”

Valko’s breath catches for the briefest moment, and then his arms tighten around you – one hand splaying across your lower back while the other cradles your thigh. “Hold onto me,” he murmurs. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, fingers threading into the soft hair at his nape, and hook your legs around his waist as he rises from the sofa with effortless ease, as if you weigh nothing at all. The movement presses you even closer, your chest flush against his as his arms hold you securely, his mouth never leaving yours.

When he reaches the bedroom, the lamplight from the living room spills through the doorway, casting warm shadows across the bed. Valko sits down on the edge of the mattress with you still wrapped around him, so you settle easily back into his lap, straddling him once more.

His hands stay gentle at your waist, holding you steady on his lap as the kiss lingers between you. Being this close to him makes something in you ache softly for more. When you finally draw back enough to speak, your lips brush his.

“Unzip me, please.”

He does not hesitate. One hand leaves your waist and finds the zipper at the small of your back. He takes his time, pulling the zipper all the way down before his palm rests lightly against the bare skin he has uncovered.

Only then do you break the kiss. You rise just enough to slide the dress from your shoulders and over your hips. You step out of it slowly, standing before him in the lamplight while his gaze follows every movement.

You unhook your bra next, the straps slipping from your shoulders, and you let the garment fall away. Valko’s breath leaves him in a low, appreciative sound, but he does not reach for you yet. He waits, watching as you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your panties and ease them down your legs. They join the rest of your clothing on the floor, and when you straighten again you are bare before him – every inch of skin touched by the soft light and the heat of his undivided attention.

A quiet thrill moves through you at the way he looks at you, like you are something precious he has been given permission to cherish.

You take a step toward him, ready to return to his lap, but his fingers wrap gently around your wrist before you can climb back onto the bed. The touch is light, yet it stills you completely. He draws your hand toward him and presses a soft kiss to the back of it, then turns it over and brushes his lips against the sensitive skin of your inner wrist. The touch sends a small shiver up your arm.

Without a word, he guides you closer to the bed. His hands settle at your waist as he helps you onto the mattress, and you lie back against the pillows.

He lifts one of your legs, his mouth finding your ankle with a slow press of lips before he gives the other the same lingering attention. Then the heat of his mouth trails upward, each kiss drawing closer, and something low in your stomach tightens with anticipation.

You watch him as he settles between your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours. The first slow drag of his tongue through your folds makes your breath hitch. He does it again, firmer this time, and your thighs instinctively part wider for him.

His hands slide under your hips, holding you steady as he licks into you with more purpose now – slow, thorough strokes that have you growing slicker by the second. When he finally seals his lips around your clit and sucks, your back arches hard off the bed with a broken moan.

Your fingers thread into his hair as your hips start to move on their own, rolling against his mouth. Valko groans at the movement, gripping your hips harder and letting you grind against his tongue, meeting every roll of your body.

The pleasure builds fast now. Every stroke of his tongue, every time he sucks on your clit, sends sparks racing through you. You can feel how wet you are, how easily his mouth moves against you. Your moans grow breathier, your thighs starting to tremble around his head as the tension coils tighter in your stomach.

You keep your eyes on him the whole time. His gaze is locked on your face, but there’s a new tension in his expression now – his pupils are blown, brows drawn, like he’s fighting to stay focused on you while his own hunger bleeds through.

And then you notice the rest of him.

His hips are moving in small, involuntary thrusts against the mattress, rutting into the bed in time with the way his mouth works over you. The sight of it – how turned on he is just from tasting you – makes you clench hard around nothing.

His name slips from your lips in a broken moan, soft at first and then louder as the heat inside you coils tighter and tighter. Valko answers with a low sound against your soaked folds, and then he murmurs right against your skin.

“I can feel you getting close... Come on my tongue, baby – I want to taste you when you do.”

One of his hands finds yours, threading your fingers together and holding on tight. Your hips move faster now, grinding down against his mouth with desperate little rolls. The moment his lips close around your clit again, the tension finally snaps.

It rolls through you in heavy, pulsing waves. Your thighs shake around his head as your fingers tighten in his hair, and a string of broken, breathless sounds spill from your lips – his name tangled with soft, incoherent praise you barely register saying.

A deep, rough groan tears from his throat as his hips jerk harder against the mattress, the movement no longer small or controlled, and the hand holding yours tightens. His eyes stay locked on your face even as they darken further, that faint crease between his brows deepening as he fights to keep his focus on you.

The knowledge that your broken praise is undoing him only makes the pleasure burn hotter, dragging another helpless moan from your throat as the last ripples of your orgasm roll through you.

For a little while, neither of you speaks. Your body feels pleasantly spent, your fingers still loosely threaded with his while your other hand moves slowly through his hair in gentle, absent strokes. Valko stays exactly where he is, his breath warm and uneven against your soaked skin. For a long moment he doesn’t move, only presses soothing kisses along the inside of your thigh, then higher, brushing his lips over the soft curve of your stomach and the sensitive crease where your hip meets your leg.

Then, instead of rising, he begins to kiss lower again.

His mouth trails back down, lips parting against your still-sensitive folds as if it is the most natural thing in the world for him to keep going.

Your fingers tighten in his hair.

“Valko,” you breathe, your voice still shaky.

He lifts his head immediately, eyes finding yours.

You swallow, your hand sliding from his hair to gently touch his jaw.

“Come here,” you say softly.

His voice comes out low and rough. “I am here.”

You shake your head, a small, almost shy smile tugging at your lips.

“Up here.”

He hesitates for a second – just long enough for you to see the way he is still caught in that deep, giving place he goes to when he has his mouth on you. Then, slowly, he begins to crawl up your body, pressing kisses as he goes. His mouth moves over your stomach, the center of your chest, your breasts.

When he finally reaches the crook of your neck, he pauses there, nuzzling into the warm space under your jaw, his nose brushing your skin as he breathes you in.

You stay like that for a while, your fingers still moving slowly through his hair while his face remains tucked against your neck.

After a moment, you speak, your voice soft and a little hoarse.

“Are you planning on taking those clothes off at some point?”

Valko lets out a quiet huff of laughter against your neck.

He lifts his head, and you see the familiar teasing smile on his lips. “Why?” he asks. “Do you want me to?”

You roll your eyes, but the smile that follows gives you away completely. Your hand slides from his hair down to the back of his neck as you pull him closer until your lips are almost brushing his.

“I need to feel you against my skin,” you whisper. “I need your warmth. Your everything.”

The teasing in his expression softens. His hand tightens gently around yours where your fingers are still linked.

Valko doesn’t answer with words. Instead, he kisses you once more before pulling back to sit up. You watch as he reaches for the buttons of his shirt, his fingers working them open one by one. The fabric parts gradually, revealing his chest and the defined muscles of his torso. He shrugs the shirt off his shoulders and lets it fall somewhere beside the bed, never once breaking eye contact with you.

When his hands move to his belt, the quiet clink of metal and the slow drag of leather send a fresh, unexpected flutter through your already sensitive core, making your thighs press together. He notices, and the corner of his mouth lifts before he finishes undoing his belt and pushes both his pants and underwear down in one smooth motion.

He steps out of the last of his clothes and returns to the bed completely bare.

The sight of him makes your breath catch. In the dim light, his cock stands thick and flushed a deep, aching red, the head glistening with precum that has already begun to leak down the shaft. He braces himself above you on one forearm before lowering his body until his full weight settles over you. The pressure is immediate and sweet, sinking into your skin and muscles in the most comforting way. His mouth finds yours at the same time, lips locking in a hungry kiss as his tongue slides against yours. You can taste yourself on him, and the realization only makes you kiss him harder, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back as you hold him close.

When you wrap your legs around his hips, the movement drags the thick length of his cock through your soaked folds. The blunt head nudges against your clit, and a broken moan slips from your throat into his mouth. He’s so hot and heavy against you, the underside of his cock gliding through your wetness with every small shift of his body.

You start to move first.

Your hips roll upward in a slow grind, coating the length with your arousal and his saliva. He follows your rhythm, the tip nudging just barely at your entrance before sliding past again, teasing you both with how close he is to sinking inside.

“I need you inside me,” you whisper against his lips. “I want to feel all of you.”

You spread your legs wider for him, opening yourself completely as he begins to ease inside, slowly and carefully. The stretch is intense and delicious, your body yielding to him while his eyes stay locked on your face, watching every flicker of pleasure that crosses your expression.

Your arms wrap tighter around him, one hand sliding up to grip the back of his neck while the other stays curled on his shoulder. He holds you just as close, one arm braced beside your head, the other sliding under your back to pull you flush against him as he sinks deeper.

“You okay like this?” he asks quietly.

When you nod, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to the corner of your eye. He stays there for a moment, buried deep inside you, his forehead resting lightly against yours as he just breathes with you.

Then, slowly, he begins to pull back – almost slipping out – before sinking back in. The movement pulls a soft sound from your throat, your hips lifting instinctively to meet him.

He picks up the pace gradually, each thrust growing a little heavier, a little deeper. Your arms stay wrapped tightly around him, holding him close as soft moans spill from your lips with every stroke. The heat between you builds quickly – the slick drag of his cock inside you, the way his pelvis grinds against your clit on every downward thrust, the way his breath fans hot across your mouth.

You can feel how close he is.

It’s in the way his cock keeps twitching inside you, in the tension locked through his shoulders, in the rough, broken groans that escape him. His face is tight with pleasure, brows drawn, jaw clenched as he fights to keep control.

You whisper against his lips.

“You can let go… I want you to. Don’t hold back.”

Valko shakes his head once.

“No,” he breathes. “I just… want to savor this a little longer.”

After a moment, Valko shifts his weight and wraps both arms tightly around your torso. In one smooth motion he sits up, bringing you with him until he’s kneeling on the mattress with you straddling his lap. Your legs instinctively wrap around him as you adjust, your arms sliding around his shoulders while your chests press flush together. The new angle makes him sink even deeper inside you, and the sudden fullness draws a breathless moan from your lips.

He holds you close – one strong arm wrapped around your back, the other hand gripping the curve of your ass, keeping you anchored against him. Your bare skin slides against his with every breath, your nipples brushing his chest. Neither of you speaks for a moment. You simply breathe each other in, bodies locked tight, his cock pulsing deep inside you while your arms stay wrapped around his shoulders like you never want to let go.

You begin to move first, rocking slowly against him.

Valko lets out a low, guttural sound the second you start moving. He kisses you again, but this time there’s nothing controlled about it – his tongue pushes past your lips with no hesitation, sliding against yours in a wet, hungry glide. The kiss turns messy fast. It’s all heat and spit, the wet sound of it mixing with the low groans rumbling from his chest as his teeth catch your bottom lip, grazing, nipping.

His hand on your ass tightens, fingers spreading wide as he begins to guide you. The motion stays shallow, limited by how tightly you’re pressed together, but even with how little you can move, it feels devastatingly good. Every slow circle of your hips makes his cock rub against that sensitive spot inside you while your clit drags over his pelvis, slick and swollen and aching.

“That’s it… take what you need,” he murmurs against your lips. “I love feeling you like this.”

The fullness is constant, overwhelming in the best way – every tiny shift of your body makes you feel stretched around him. Your nipples slip and slide against his sweat-damp chest with every movement, the friction making your body grow hotter.

“I can feel how close you are,” he murmurs against your lips. “I can hear it in the way you moan for me. You’re gonna come again, aren’t you?”

You can only whimper in response, your arms tightening around his shoulders as you hold on. You can feel how close he is too – the way his cock keeps twitching inside you, the tension coiled so tightly through his body, the way his breathing has turned ragged and uneven. He’s holding back, barely, and it only makes you want to push him over the edge with you.

You shift your legs, planting your feet flat on the mattress on either side of his hips. The change in angle lets you lift yourself higher, and when you sink back down, you take his thick length even deeper than before. The helpless, strained whimper that tears from Valko’s throat makes your pussy cream around him, slick and messy. His forehead drops to your shoulder, hot breath fanning over your damp skin as his arms tighten around you like he’s trying to hold himself together.

Valko lets out another broken sound against your neck as you start lifting and dropping on him. His arms lock tighter around you as he tries – and fails – to keep guiding your hips the way he was before. The new angle has him sinking impossibly deep with every stroke, and a wrecked groan tears from his throat.

“Fuck – you feel too good,” he pants, voice strained. “I’m trying to let you have this… but – ha-ah – you’re gonna make me lose it.”

You slide one hand up to the back of his neck, fingers threading into his damp hair as you roll your hips again, using your new leverage to grind down on him harder.

“I want you to come,” you breathe. “I need it. I need to feel you.”

That’s all it takes.

Valko’s hand squeezes your ass in a bruising grip as his hips jerk up to meet yours in short, desperate thrusts. His mouth latches onto the side of your neck, sucking hard while his tongue drags over your skin between bites. His sweaty chest slides against yours with every desperate grind, your nipples dragging over the slick, overheated skin. His pelvis is soaked with your arousal, and every roll of your hips grinds it firmly against your swollen clit, sending sharp, relentless sparks racing through your entire body. The combination is too much – the way he stretches you open with every thrust and the constant, filthy pressure on your clit. It builds so fast it feels dizzying.

Your climax crashes into you with overwhelming force.

A silent whimper catches in your throat before it breaks into a loud, shattered moan. Your walls clamp down around him in hard, rhythmic pulses, your thighs shaking as your fingers dig into his shoulders. The pleasure is blinding, ripping through you so intensely that all you can do is cling to him, your body trembling as wave after wave crashes over you.

Valko’s arms lock around you the second your orgasm hits. His forehead presses hard into your shoulder as his cock throbs violently inside you, and you feel the way your pussy squeezes around him, milking him. His whole body goes tense, muscles straining as he fights to hold on for just a few more seconds.

“That’s it – I’ve got you –” His voice cracks. “Just hold onto me – please – ”

His breath hitches.

He yanks your hips down hard and holds you there as he starts to come. You feel every thick pulse of his cock as he fills you – hot spurts that seem to go on and on while he keeps grinding you against him through it. His mouth finds yours in a breathless, messy kiss, all tongue, groans, and the sharp graze of teeth. He kisses you like he’s drowning as he empties himself inside you in thick, relentless waves.

He holds you so tightly against his sweat-slick body that you feel every tremor run through him, his cock still twitching and spilling deep inside you.

For a long moment, neither of you moves. You just stay like that, chests pressed together, breathing hard against each other’s skin. Then Valko tilts his head and kisses you again – slower this time, softer, lingering. When he finally pulls back, he doesn’t go far. He presses a kiss to the side of your neck, then higher, brushing his lips against your cheek.

“You okay?” he asks.

You nod, a small smile tugging at your mouth. “More than okay.”

He makes a soft sound of relief and nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his nose brushing your skin as he just breathes you in. You smile against his hair, your fingers grazing his undercut… until a dull, tingling ache starts to spread through your thighs.

You shift a little, wincing. “Okay, wait. My legs are going numb.”

Valko lifts his head, blinking at you for a second. Then a quiet chuckle rumbles out of him.

He carefully helps you untangle your legs from around his waist, one hand supporting your lower back while the other guides you down onto the mattress. You stretch out with a soft sigh of relief, the sheets cool against your overheated skin. Valko stays close for a second longer, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

“Don’t move,” he murmurs. “I’ll be right back.”

He disappears into the bathroom and returns a moment later with a warm, damp towel. You feel a little flustered when he settles between your legs again, but the look on his face is so gentle and focused that you don’t stop him. He cleans you with careful strokes, the warmth of the cloth soothing against your skin.

When the towel grazes your still-sensitive folds, you flinch a little.

“Shh,” Valko soothes, caressing your thigh with his free hand. “Just a little more.”

He finishes with the same tender care, then leans down and presses a soft kiss to the inside of your knee.

“There,” he says, tossing the towel aside. “All clean.”

He crawls back up the bed and pulls you into his arms again, tucking your head under his chin. One hand starts slowly stroking up and down your back, warm and steady.

He murmurs your name against your hair, barely more than a breath. “You okay? Really?”

You nod, your cheek pressed to his chest. “Yeah… Just a little floaty.”

He makes a pleased sound and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Good,” he says quietly. “You were so beautiful like that. I loved every second of it.”

You smile against his skin, a little shy. “You didn’t have to clean me up, you know.”

“I wanted to.” His fingers keep tracing slow paths along your spine. “I like taking care of you.”

There’s a short, comfortable silence. Then he shifts just enough so he can look at you, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“You need anything?” he asks. “Water? Snacks? Or just me?”

You laugh softly and burrow closer. “Just you, baby.”

He chuckles and wraps both arms around you more securely.

“Alright then,” he says, settling back against the pillows with you. “You’ve got me.”