Page 51 of Technically Abducted
When we're both naked, he settles back into my lap, skin to skin contact sending sparks through our empathic connection. I can feel his anticipation mixing with my own, creating a spiral of shared arousal that makes us both breathe harder.
"Need to prepare you," I murmur, my hands sliding down to trace along his entrance.
"Yeah," Finn breathes, leaning into my touch. "But not too much. I like the intensity now that I know how good it can be."
His admission sends heat racing through me—the idea that he wants to feel the stretch, that he's grown to appreciate the sharp edge of sensation that comes with our connection. I work him carefully but minimally, just enough to ease the way, noting how he responds to each touch with small sounds of pleasure.
"Ready?" I ask, positioning myself at his entrance.
Instead of answering with words, Finn reaches between us to guide me, then begins to sink down slowly. But halfway through, his control breaks and he drops down faster than I expected, taking me completely in one smooth motion.
"Fuck," he gasps, his head falling back as he adjusts to the sudden fullness. "That's... intense."
The sensation of him taking me like that—eager, impatient, wanting the full impact all at once—is overwhelming in the best possible way. I can feel through our empathic connection how the sharp stretch affects him, how he craves that edge of intensity now.
"Fuck," Finn gasps when I'm fully seated inside him, his head falling back as he adjusts to the sensation. "This is… intense."
Through our empathic connection, I can feel what he feels—the stretch, the fullness, the way this position hits different angles than before. But I can also feel his wonder at the control, his satisfaction at being able to set the pace.
"Move," I encourage, my hands sliding up to rest on his hips. "Take what you need."
Finn begins to move, slow at first, finding his rhythm. The position allows him complete control over speed and depth, and I watch his face as he experiments with different angles, noting what makes him gasp, what makes the empathic connection flare between us.
"Good?" I ask, though I can feel his pleasure through our bond.
"So good," Finn confirms, his movements becoming more confident. "I can feel everything you feel. The way I feel around you, how much you like watching me…"
The empathic feedback creates an intoxicating loop—I feel his pleasure at taking me, he feels my arousal at watching him, and both sensations amplify as they bounce between us. Soon we're both lost in the spiral of shared sensation, our first careful encounter forgotten in favor of this much more primal, demanding connection.
"Fuck, Tev'ra," Finn gasps, his rhythm becoming erratic as pleasure overwhelms him. "I can feel... you're so close, and it's making me..."
"Don't hold back," I tell him, my grip on his hips tightening. "Let me feel you come apart."
"Touch yourself," he demands suddenly, his eyes blazing with lust. "I want to feel what it's like when you're inside me and touching yourself at the same time."
The command in his voice sends heat straight through me. I wrap my hand around my cock where it disappears into his body, and the sensation is incredible—feeling myself inside him while also feeling the pressure of my own grip. Through our bond, Finn experiences it too, crying out at the doubled sensation.
"Jesus fuck," he breathes, his movements becoming wild and desperate. "That's... God, I can feel everything. How tight I am around you, how good your hand feels..."
"You feel incredible," I tell him, my voice rough with approaching climax. "So perfect, so beautiful riding me like this."
"I can feel how close you are," Finn pants, leaning down to capture my mouth in a desperate kiss. "Come for me, Tev'ra. I want to feel you come inside me."
"Touch yourself," I encourage against his lips. "Let me feel what it's like for you."
Finn wraps his hand around his cock, and immediately I'm flooded with the sensation of his touch through our empathic bond. I can feel his arousal from his perspective—the way my cock fills him at this angle, the pressure against his prostate with each movement, the overwhelming nature of controlling his own pleasure while feeling mine.
"Not going to last," he warns, his movements becoming more erratic, more desperate.
"Good," I breathe, my own orgasm building rapidly. "Come for me. Let me feel you come while riding my cock."
When Finn's orgasm hits, it crashes through our empathic connection with doubled intensity. I feel his climax as if it were my own—the way pleasure radiates outward from where we're joined, the way his entire body tenses and then releases, the overwhelming satisfaction of taking his pleasure while giving mine. He comes hard across my chest, his release painting streaks across my bioluminescent skin.
His orgasm triggers my own, and suddenly I'm coming deep inside him while feeling my climax from his perspective as well. The doubled sensation is almost too intense, leaving us both shaking and gasping as we ride out the aftershocks that seem to go on forever through our shared connection.
Afterward, we remain connected, Finn collapsed against my chest as we both catch our breath. The empathic connection has settled to a warm hum, carrying contentment andsatisfaction and something deeper that I'm not quite ready to examine.
"That was incredible," Finn breathes against my neck. "I've never felt anything like that. The empathic thing makes everything so intense—not just the physical stuff, but the emotional stuff too. I could feel how much you... how this affects you."
