Patterns

Returned

Oh god—

Her breath stuttered, her head tipping back as he repeated the motion, unhurried but deeper than before.

No longer overcome with pain alone, she really felt him then—every ridge, every inch pressing into her in a way that stole the air from her lungs.

Her body didn't know if it wanted to melt or shake apart.

He didn't let her rush. Didn't take over completely. But his grip told her exactly how close he was to doing it—the firm press of his thumbs, the subtle restraint in his movements like he was holding something back that could destroy her in the best way.

And she wanted him to.

God, she wanted.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer, while pushing down into his hold.

His breath caught against her jaw, and she swore she felt his hips twitch under her, like instinct was about to win.

"Jinu—" It came out a gasp, barely a word.

He kissed her, hard, and guided her through another slow grind that made her moan into his mouth.

" Patience, baby," he murmured, voice breaking just enough to undo her.

And oh... all these pet names.

He was big on nicknames, she knew that, and she loved it. But nothing could've prepared her for how subduing words like baby and princess and my girl would be to her.

She'd do anything just to hear him say it again.

A shameless whine escaped her, and she clawed at his back, pleading.

" Easy, I'm doing this for you, you know," he chuckled against her cheek. "Just hold on a little longer and I'll let you have more."

Fuck.

Too good.

She sniffled, and wrapped her arms over his shoulders.

How could he be so good to her? What had she done to deserve him?

Even when she begged for more, he took it slow. Because even when she didn't tell, he knew too much would hurt her.

And when she'd assured him that pain didn't matter, that she wanted to keep going anyway, he wouldn't have it.

He was all about her.

Her. Her, her, her, her.

And she couldn't believe it.

She buried her face in the crook of his neck, breathing deep against his skin, like she could inhale him.

I want to be good to him too.

She supported more of her own weight on her knees, and angled her hips with his hands along with the pace he'd set.

Her movements were shaky, careful—but she tried.

Anything for him.

"Look at you," he said softly against her ear. "Doing so well for me."

She swallowed, and let him guide her through another shift, even deeper this time.

Her mouth fell open, something between a moan and a sob escaping her at the stretch.

" Fuck. You feel so good, Rumi," he groaned, grip twitching against her skin. "You have no idea."