Page 150 of Levi

I give him the second finger slow, alongside the first. The stretch is real. I feel him tighten for a heartbeat and suck in his breath.

“Push out for me,” I remind him. “Just like before. Nothing happens you don’t want.”

“I know.” He does as I ask, the long, controlled breath. “I’m pushing. I’m — oh—”

The slow, sweet give as his body accepts the second finger. I slide deeper, until both fingers are fully inside him, pressed together.

“That’s both of them,” I say. “All the way in. How does it feel?”

“Full. God. So full. Like you’re already inside me. Don’t you dare pull out.”

“I won’t.” I hold still, giving him every second he needs. “I’m right here. You’re taking me so perfectly. Are you okay?”

“It burns a little,” he says. “But it doesn’t hurt. It feels good.”

I begin to move again, both fingers moving in a slow, rolling rhythm, scissoring gently. “Every time I push in, I’m opening you a little more.”

“God, I feel it.” His hands fist in the sheets. “Dante — please. More of that. Right there.”

I add more lube without pulling out, the cool slickness easing the way even further, and resume the deep, patient thrusts. In and out. Curl and press.

“You’re perfect like this,” I tell him, with everything I feel. “Taking me so willingly. Letting me take care of you. There’s no rush. We stay right here as long as you want.”

After a long stretch of that careful rhythm, he asks, rough, “How many more fingers until I can take your cock? Is two enough?”

I slow my movements but don’t stop, looking up at him so he can see the honesty in my face. “Three,” I tell him. “Not less. Three will stretch you enough that when the time comes, it won’t hurt the way it would tonight. That’s the number that keeps you from hurting.”

His eyes darken with want. “Then give me one more. Please. I want the third. I want to feel how full I can get for you. I want to be ready when you decide it’s time.”

“Levi—”

“I’m asking. One more finger. Please. Fuck, Dante. I can take it.”

I study him, reading the open need and the trust that has nowhere left to hide. Then I nod once. “Alright. One more. You set the pace.”

I coat my third finger thoroughly and press it carefully against the place where the other two are already seated. “It’s going to be a lot. Push out again for me. Breathe. Tell me the second it feels like too much.”

“It won’t,” he promises, shaking with anticipation. “I’m ready.”

The third finger goes in slower than the first two put together. I feel him fight the stretch for a heartbeat, feel his body remember what to do — push out, breathe — and then the long, trembling give as he opens and takes all three. The sound he makes then is shocked and entirely new.

“That’s it,” I say against his hip, holding still so he can live in the fullness. “That’s all three. You’re doing so good. Taking everything I’m giving you. Talk to me.”

“Full,” he gasps. “God. So fucking full. Please don’t stop.”

I don’t stop. I move all three fingers in him, slow and deep, curling into that sensitive place on every careful pass. Then I put my mouth back on him, the wet heat of my tongue matching the thrust of my fingers. He doesn’t last long after that. He comes down my throat with my three fingers seated deep inside him. I take him through every pulse and ease out while he shakes.

“You’re going to feel so good when I’m inside you,” I tell him.

“Don’t go yet,” he says, already reaching for me. “Both directions. Or it doesn’t go at all. Your rule.”

My own rule, walked back at me at the one moment I have no argument left in me. I stretch out beside him and let him take me in his fist, his forehead close to mine, watching my face the way I watched his.

“Look at me,” he says in that deep voice I’ll never tire of. “I want to see you when you come. I want to know I can make you come with my hand.”

It doesn’t take long. His grip is steady and sure, and the pleasure builds fast under the weight of his eyes. I come hard across his fingers and wrist, spilling onto his hand while my body shudders against him. He holds me through it, never looking away, and I let him see every unguarded second of it.

“God, I love seeing you come,” he says.