With a slowness that designed to torment me, he slid the cake tray into the oven. Is this actually happening? Are we finally about to fuck? The thought detonated behind my ribs—two months, eight hollow weeks of my own hand while he practiced monk-level abstinence in rehab. Gods, I wanted him. I wanted this.

I quickly dried my hair, belted my robe, and floated to his room. He was lying on his back in his house clothes, looking serene. Without a second thought, I cannon-balled onto his stomach.

He chuckled softly, a warm palm settled on my spine. “Pulla, calm down. I missed you too.”

"You have absolutely no idea," I breathed, and crashed my mouth to his. His initial kiss was tender, exploratory, a reacquaintance. But gentle wasn't what I craved.

My hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer. I nipped at his lower lip, growling, rolling my hips against the hard plane of his stomach. I wanted to taste him, to consume him, to erase the two months of agonizing absence.

"Lift your hips up," I commanded. The smirk I knew too well curved his mouth. With a swift tug, I yanked down his pajama pants and his briefs. Finally. There it was; thick, flushed, pulsing.

Sobriety. Clean living. How had it altered this? Unlike me, Levi had always savored the slow burn. But now? Would the forced abstinence have changed that pace? I wanted to devour him, to feel him deep inside me, to test the limits of this new, clean Levi.

He reached a languid arm towards his bedside drawer, and tossed me the bottle of lube. I slicked myself open, impatient, then greased him with the same rough strokes. I lifted my hips higher, positioning myself. The stretch, I knew, would be brutal. Exactly what I craved. Slowly, I lowered myself, just the slick tip sliding into me.

It was a delicious, searing pain that echoed the two long months of denial. No amount of frantic fingering could have prepared me for this torment. But Levi saw the beads of sweat forming on my brow. His hands settled firmly around my hips, pausing my descent.

"Easy, Pulla," he murmured, his thumbs digging slightly into the curve of my hips. He waited until my breathing evened slightly. Then slowly, he urged me downwards again.

The pleasure of him being completely inside me stole my breath and rooted me to the spot for a heartbeat. It was the missing piece finally slotting into place. After a few ragged breaths, I finally began to move, slowly then with increasing urgency, riding him.

Gods… it was electric, a jolt of pure euphoria with every slide and press.

Once I was stretched to my limit, the initial burn dissolving into fullness, I abandoned all restraint.

"Shh, Pulla," Levi murmured, his hands gripping my hips, slowing my pace. "Calm down, hm? You're going to exhaust yourself."

Exhaustion was the furthest thing from my mind.

I bucked harder against him, my inner muscles clenching and releasing with a desperate rhythm. My nails scored his shoulders; my hips snapped in greedy circles. I threw my head back, hair flying, the sounds of our slick bodies slapping together filling the room. I wanted to grind against him, to feel every ridge and vein of his hard cock stretching me, filling me until I was screaming his name, until the world dissolved. My hips rotated wildly, seeking a more intense friction, chasing that shattering climax that had haunted my dreams for two long months.

I reveled in the guttural groans that rumbled from his chest. My own body was a taut string pulled to its breaking point. I leaned forward, pressing my chest against his, my mouth finding his neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin.

Lowering myself further, I increased the angle, seeking that sweet spot that would send me spiraling over the edge. My thighs trembled with the effort, but I didn't care. Seconds later, it hit me, a series of intense contractions that ripped through my core. My back arched, my breath catching in a strangled cry as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me. The taste of him on my lips, the feel of his hands gripping my hips, the exquisite throbbing deep within me – it was everything I had craved.

The force of my orgasm was almost violent. It slicked my chest and abdomen, soaked into Levi's shirt, and stained the bedcovers beneath us. It took several deep breaths for the world to stop spinning. Levi, wrapped his arms around my back, holding me close. He remained still, letting me ride out the lingering tremors.

"Gods, Levi," I gasped, my voice still shaky, "remind me to… invest in waterproof sheets." I managed a weak chuckle, nuzzling his shoulder.

"Ah, Pulla, waterproof sheets would weep inconsolably after I'm truly finished with you," Levi murmured, stroking the length of my back. "But yes, breathe for now, hm?”

"Yeah…" I murmured, a needy edge to my voice, "don't be gentle though… I missed this far too much to tiptoe around it."

"Worry not," Levi purred, a predatory glint returning to his eyes. "This is merely recalibration… Now, now," he commanded, his voice laced with that familiar dominant tone, "squeeze your abs for me, will you?"

Ah. That command. My sated, still-sensitive body obeyed, tightening around him. I felt his hands slide down my back.

He wasn't replicating my earlier frantic pace. Instead, with our chests still pressed together he began to move me with a slow rhythm. Upward drag, downward grind, fingernails carving crescents into my ass.

Then, he gave me that delicious edge I craved. His fingernails dragged across the skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. As he continued to move, his fingers subtly widening my already stretched hole. That small, sharp sting. I fucking loved it.

I pushed myself up, reclaiming my position on top. "I want more, Levi," I commanded, my voice husky. "Faster."

But Levi remained in his deep tempo. It lacked the edge I craved. He was teasing, building the pressure. I wanted to buck against him, to set the pace, to recapture that frenzy. I wanted him pounding into me, hard and fast, until I shattered again.

"Ah, my Pulla hasn't changed in the slightest."

"Shut up and fuck me faster, Levi," I demanded, my own impatience reaching a fever pitch.

"Hm… it seems my Pulla is attempting to take the lead," he purred, his grip tightening on my hips. "Very well then. Let me give you precisely what you crave." His hand cracked against my ass, the sharp slap echoing in the room. Ah. That was it. That sting, that undeniable assertion of his dominance. Exactly what I wanted.

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He flipped me in one clean motion, cock never slipping free. Suddenly I was under him, calves over his shoulders. "You see," Levi murmured, as he pinned my wrists above my head, "I've etched that craving for pain, deep into your exquisite body. I've molded you into an instrument designed to create a symphony.

"Ah, my Pulla," he murmured, his blue eyes gleaming down at me, "did you perhaps seek solace in my absence, in my very scent clinging to these sheets? Did those clever fingers of yours attempt to replicate this…

exquisite union? But they fell short, didn't they?

"There was always one crucial element missing. The perfect synchronization of our bodies."

Then he drove—deep, relentless, sweat dripping onto my chest.

His pace built with each powerful thrust, stretching me in ways that only he could. My own breath hitched and stuttered, each exhale a ragged gasp. The friction was exquisite, chasing away the last vestiges of the two-month drought. My hands clawed at his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as I tried to anchor myself against the delicious onslaught.

He was no longer teasing, no longer savoring. Now it was a primal claiming, a furious assertion of possession that resonated deep within my bones. Every muscle in my body clenched in response, my hips bucking against his with a desperate urgency. I could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within me, that pressure building behind my eyes, threatening to shatter my control once more.

When I teetered on the precipice, his hands slid down to cup my ass, lifting me higher to meet each thrust with even greater intensity. The deep, insistent pressure filled me completely, and the world began to spin. A strangled cry tore from my throat as the first waves of my orgasm crashed over me, a violent, shuddering release that mirrored the first, but this time fueled by a deeper connection.

"Hm…" Levi murmured, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he felt the frantic contractions of my orgasm still rippling around him. "My Pulla never has been one for patience, has he?"

How could I possibly wait when he was such a masterful tormentor? Every deliberate thrust, every perfectly angled movement, seemed designed to detonate the pleasure points deep within me. Damn him and his uncanny ability to reduce me to a whimpering, convulsing mess in less than forty glorious, earth-shattering minutes.

Even as that knowing smirk lingered on his lips, he subtly eased his pace, granting me those precious moments to catch my breath. It was a dichotomy I had always found both incredibly endearing and, perhaps to an outsider, strangely unexpected. The common perception of a dominant top rarely encompassed this level of meticulous control, this inherent, almost paternal care for their submissive partner's well-being.

Wait. Paternal care? Did that thought actually just cross my mind? Gods, no. Absolutely not right now.

I saw the crinkle around his right eye.

"Hm… interesting," he murmured, his voice laced with a thoughtful curiosity that sent a shiver of unease down my spine. "That's the fourth time this week."

The last time we engaged in his twisted version of 'quid pro quo' – his insights for my… enthusiastic participation – he'd correctly deduced that a significant part of my submissive tendencies was rooted in a deep-seated need for pride and praise. He was far too perceptive. No. Absolutely not.

"Shut up, Levi… It's been two months for you too, you're the one being so damn restrained."

"Ah, yes," he purred, a dangerous glint in his eyes, "I am restrained. So far." He trailed a single finger along my rib cage, a caress that sent shivers down my spine. "This," he continued, his voice dropping to a low murmur, "this was the image etched into my brain, a constant, tantalizing distraction during those sterile days in rehab. I couldn't bring myself to imagine anything… further."

Gods, he has no idea how much I obsessed too. Every stolen moment in the shower, the desperate friction against the sheets, the phantom scent of him clinging to the pillows. He has no clue the battle I fought every single night, the edge I danced on, the sheer willpower it took to not completely unravel. Further? Gods, Levi, my imagination has been a relentless, vivid tapestry of every single wicked thing you could possibly do to me. Sterile days? My nights have been anything but.

Then, his thumb began to trace gentle circles on my abdomen, a mesmerizing motion that sent shivers dancing across my skin.

"There were two phantom images burned under my eyelids throughout those sixty days, Raphael," he murmured. "The first was this… the feel of your ribs beneath my fingertips. But the second…" His thumb stilled, his gaze locking intensely with mine. "The second was the memory of how every single pale hair strand on your exquisite body would stand on end when I touched you just so. I spent sixty long days… dwelling on that."

Like it was some kind of exquisite torture for him. And it was for me, too.

"Well, Levi…" I breathed, my voice thick with renewed desire as I took his hand and placed it on my chest, right over the frantic beat of my heart. "Now you don't have to just imagine it anymore, do you?"

A smirk stretched across his lips.

He was a man unleashed. Each thrust was deep and powerful, his hips slamming against mine with a force that sent shockwaves of pleasure radiating through my entire body. His hands tightened their grip on my chest, his thumbs digging into my flesh as if anchoring himself to me. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, the taut muscles in his back flexing with each entry.

His gaze remained locked on mine, his dark eyes burning with a fierce intensity that both thrilled and intimidated me. There was a possessiveness in his stare, a raw hunger that mirrored the desperate craving in my own soul.

His hands left my chest and slid down to grip both of my thighs, lifting me higher and wider, opening me up completely.

"Pulla," he groaned, his eyelids heavy-lidded with lust, "Gods, I missed you so much."

I arched my back further, offering myself completely. "Don't stop then, Levi… Show me just how much you missed this… show me what I've been craving."

He didn't need further prompting. He began to devour my calves, sucking and biting with a primal intensity that sent jolts of pure sensation shooting through my core.

Levi’s tempo intensified, each thrust a visceral plunge. He seemed intent on branding me from the inside out. His hands, still gripping my legs, tightened with each powerful movement, lifting me higher, exposing me more fully to his hungry assault. His teeth scraped lightly against the bone, sending shivers of pleasure through me.

Then, with a final roar that resonated deep within my chest, he shuddered, his body arching against mine as his own release finally claimed him. I felt the powerful contractions gripping his thick length inside me, a final, exquisite wave of sensation that sent me spiraling into my own shattering climax. My body convulsed around him, my cries mingling with his ragged gasps as we clung to each other.

"What the actual hell, Levi…" I gasped, my voice thick with breathless laughter and a touch of bewildered awe. "Are you trying to drown me in your goddamn cum? What is this?"

He chuckled, his chest heaving against mine as he finally began to subside. "Ah… consider the circumstances. Two months of absolute abstinence… and now this body is clean, sober, and in peak condition. My organs are celebrating."

"Yeah…" I managed, still slightly overwhelmed by the sheer volume. "If you really think about it, this might actually be a personal record for you, Levi. You came in only in an hour."

"Ah…" he murmured, nuzzling against my neck, his breath still ragged. "I simply couldn't bear to wait a single moment longer."

I wrapped my arms around him. "You know," I murmured, a genuine warmth spreading through me, "it used to take you hours to finally reach your peak, Levi. I'm actually… really glad that's changed."

"The sensation was often muted, lost in a chemical fog that has thankfully now dissipated. However," he added, a playful glint returning to his eyes, "that newfound… efficiency doesn't mean my stamina has diminished. So, do be prepared."

The remainder of our time together was gloriously primal. No need for toys or elaborate scenarios; just the raw connection of two bodies rediscovering each other. It was a frenzy of biting lips, hungry kisses that bruised, fervent sucking that left skin flushed and sensitive, playful nibbles that escalated into urgent demands, and relentless fucking that pushed us both to the very edge of exhaustion, again and again. We were animals. Fucking like rabbits until the soft hues of evening began to paint the sky. Only then did we finally drag ourselves to the shower. Levi, ever mindful, carefully encased his stitched hand in a plastic wrap.