When I came, it was with his name on my lips and his hand wrapped around me, and the world went white and perfect for a moment. He followed seconds later, face buried in my neck, body shaking with the force of it.

We lay tangled together afterwards, sweat cooling, hearts still racing. Lucas traced lazy patterns on my chest, and I played with his hair, and neither of us spoke because words felt inadequate.

Eventually, he got up and returned with a warm washcloth, tending to me with the same careful attention he’d shown during. It should have been awkward, this intimate care, but it felt natural. Right.

“Stay,”...