Page 36 of Little Bunny

And then—

A spurt of slick heat against his entrance. Elijah’s breath hitched. He pulled back just enough to look Matias in the eyes. “What was that?”

Matias smirked. Didn’t answer. Just rubbed the head of his cock against Elijah’s opening, spreading the wetness. Another spurt. Then another. Warmth pooled in Elijah’s gut.

Matias’s smirk deepened. “Relax, cariño.”

Before Elijah could ask anything else, Matias pushed. Elijah arched, a gasp spilling from his lips. Oh hell. The burn was there, but so was the stretch. Slick, hot, seamless. The slide had his entire body tensing, overwhelmed, panting, desperate.

Matias shushed him softly, pressing a kiss to his jaw then lower, nipping at the sensitive spot behind Elijah’s ear. The spot. The one Matias had discovered, the one that turned Elijah into a trembling mess.

“Fuck,” Elijah hissed, fingers tightening in Matias’s hair.

A low growl rumbled against his skin. “That’s it, hermoso,” Matias murmured, lips dragging slow and dangerous over his throat. “Take me.”

Elijah’s head fell back, surrendering to the stretch, the heat, the slow, devastating press of Matias filling him completely.

His walls fluttered, adjusting, and Matias held still, letting him breathe, letting him feel every inch, every thick pulse of heat inside him.

He was so full.

So stretched.

Matias shuddered above him, his breathing ragged, his restraint tangible. The man was holding back—for him.

“Move,” Elijah whispered.

Matias obliged. The first roll of his hips sent fire through Elijah’s veins. Slow, controlled, dragging pleasure surged through his body with a precision so lethal it hurt. Every thrust hit just right. Every kiss, every grip of strong hands against his hips, his waist, owned him. Elijah was lost.

The slow grind, the tight push and pull, the way Matias ruined him with deep, deliberate strokes—

He was gone. And Matias knew it.

A deep, satisfied growl vibrated against Elijah’s throat, Matias’s teeth grazing sensitive skin. The man was in control, holding himself steady, driving into him with slow, deliberate force.

Elijah felt it everywhere—his body stretched and thrumming, heat pooling in his gut, each roll of Matias’s hips making him shudder.

“Perfect,” Matias murmured, voice thick with restraint, like he was holding back.

Elijah didn’t want him to.

The next thrust sent a shockwave through Elijah, pleasure striking deep, sharp, too much and not enough. A ragged gasp tore from his throat, fingers tightening against Matias’s shoulders.

“More.” The word barely made it out before Matias snapped.

A growl. A firm grip on his hips. Then Matias gave it to him. The next thrust wasn’t slow. It wasn’t gentle. It was dominant, a claiming, a demand. Elijah arched, pleasure exploding through him.

Matias hissed, his control cracking. “You feel so fucking good, conejito.”

Elijah moaned, hands slipping over sweat-slicked muscles. He had no idea if he was pulling Matias closer or just holding on for dear life.

One powerful thrust sent him spiraling. His vision blurred. His body shook. Matias felt it. Knew exactly what he was doing. And the bastard smirked. Elijah would’ve cursed him out if he wasn’t so wrecked.

Matias pressed a kiss behind his ear, lingering, taunting. “Sensitive, huh?”

Elijah shuddered. His breath hitched, cock twitching between them. He hated that Matias had found that weak spot. Hated that it undid him so easily. A teasing roll of Matias’s hips sent another bolt of pleasure through him.

“Don’t—”

---