I closed my eyes because it all seemed like too much. The way he felt over me, the way his eyes made me feel like I wasn't my own proprietor. But I felt like a coward doing it, so I opened them again.

He smiled at me gently before reaching over me, digging into his backpack for a second, retrieving a small box from inside. "You're a dream come true," he said softly once he was back in place, kissing me over my heart.

Catching sight of the black and gold wrapper in his hand, I glanced back up at his face. "You're perfect," I told him.

Sacha kissed me, pulling away to look down. I could see his hands shaking as he tore open the condom and sat back on his heels. I don't know how I didn't babble something like “holy shit” or “oh my God.” In the times we'd spent in my bunk before, everything we ever did was over clothing. I'd never put my hands on his naked flesh. So when I glanced down his bare, hard chest and the symmetrical, block-shaped muscles of his abs to see his thick, long cock hard and proud in the air, I sucked in a breath.

He rolled the condom over the broad, blunt head between his thighs and over the thickening shaft that stretched wider at the base. Sacha wrapped his hands over my hips to pull me toward him once he was fully sheathed. The bulbous head slipped up and down my lower lips, the tip rubbing over me so nicely I whimpered.

One more kiss and he was dropping to his elbows, caging me in between his biceps. Another soft, gentle kiss and he was adjusting himself to press his smooth head in me. Slowly, he pushed. I spread and stretched around him, inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt. The short, brown hairs of his base were pressed to my smooth lips.

Sacha let out a noise that sounded strangled, but I pressed my forehead against his shoulder, trying to make it through how full he made me feel.

After a minute or five, he pulled out of me slowly before sliding back in at the same languid pace. Then again. And again. Slow, slow, slow, he worked his hips and organ deep in me. "I'm not going to last that long," he whispered, kissing the corner of my mouth.

"That's okay." It was more than okay. Better than okay.

"You feel so fucking good. I'm sorry," he panted, giving me a sharp thrust upward.

I cried out.

"Everyday. I want you everyday," he groaned. "You're the best thing in the world." He flipped us over after that, never pulling out of me or losing contact with our mouths as we rolled. "Ride me," he begged. "I want you to come."

I smiled at him, blissed out and feeling more amazing than any human being should be capable of. But I slid up and down his long cock slowly. It seemed like less than a minute later, I was sweating and riding him faster. "Oh my God."

His hips pumped up, out of rhythm and sync, and I came so hard, my abdominal muscles cramped. I'd barely come out of my orgasm, still seeing spots in my eyes, when he pushed into me even faster, panting into my neck. Sacha went tense all over, pressing his lips against my chest with a muffled, "Fuck!" He came, riding out his orgasm inside of me.

In the minutes after he'd calmed down, thrown away the condom and crawled back into bed, I felt like I was living in a dream. Sacha was curling around me, pushing my hair out of my face and grinning from ear to ear—a smile that put every other one to shame.

"What's that look for?" I asked him, running my hand over his tattooed arm.

His smile turned dopey and sweet. "You make me so fucking happy, Princess. You have no idea."

* * *

"You're dumb."

Sacha scoffed, slipping his hands over my feet to set them into his lap. We were sitting on his bed playing Uno in Berlin. Earlier that day, we'd walked around with Julian and Freddy and then followed that up by going to the venue for the show. Now that everything was over, we could finally allow exhaustion to hit full force. Almost three months of nonstop touring was finally taking its toll on all of us.