His weight was heavy on top of me. Not crushing. Just enough to make me feel held, anchored to a moment that shouldn’t exist.I could still feel him inside me, his length twitching, buried deep where no one else had ever reached. He hadn’t pulled out. He hadn’t tried to. He just stayed there, wrapped in the aftermath of what we’d just done, like neither of us could accept that it was over.And maybe it wasn’t.Not yet.His breath was hot against my neck, his chest heaving, skin slick with sweat. My legs were still spread, still shaking, still wrapped around him like I’d die if I let go.“I should move,” he rasped, voice gravel and regret.“Don’t,” I whispered, my fingers slipping into his hair. “Stay.”He did.He rolled us gently onto our sides, his cock softening inside me but not leaving. One arm curled beneath my neck, the other resting across my waist. His palm cupped my hip, like he couldn’t stop touching me, even now.Silence stretched between us, not uncomfortable, just full. Fu
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