They had certainly come a long way since those first tentative touches in the facility. Being together had been a learning experience for them both, but Oliver had known almost from the beginning that he would never want anyone else. Trauma brought people together, bonded them in unexpected ways. His life with Diego had never been normal by society's standards, and it hadn't always been easy. But it was what he wanted, and it wasn't going to change. No one else could possibly make Oliver feel this good, or look this sexy beneath him. Panting heavily now, Oliver began to thrust harder, soft grunts escaping him as his body took control, moving at a pace that sent shivers of pleasure down his spine. His balls felt full and tight, but he wasn't going to go off yet. Oliver ducked his head to kiss at Diego's throat before burying his face against his neck and groaning.
All normalcy in Diego’s life had ended at a young and tender age, so Oliver coming into it had provided an unprecedented amount of stability and acceptance. And safety -- Diego had felt safe with him from the start, from the first moment he heard Spanish drip off of Oliver’s beautiful lips like honey. Diego had been half-wild, uncontrollable and dangerous and locked away for it, but he’d latched onto the young technician like his life depended on it, and they’d been inseparable ever since. The life they’d built together had been hard and scary, but that wasn’t new to him. It was theirs and beautiful in its way, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything. Now he couldn’t imagine existing without this: his sexy lover’s body straining over his as he drove himself into Diego's core over and over. It made his chest feel full of hot passion and intense love at the same time, and his hand gripped the back of Oliver’s neck, his eyes rolling closed. “Fóllame, mi amor,” Diego breathed into Oliver’s ear, the pleasure digging deeper and deeper into him.
Diego's voice shot pleasure into Oliver's core stronger than any physical sensation. They were bonded by so many things, not all of them good, but their ability to communicate on more than one level is what helped build the trust between them when they first met. And now he loved the sound of his lover's voice, especially in moments of passion. Oliver wanted to slow down and make this last but it felt too good and his body had taken over, thrusting with abandon as his pleasure spiraled. One hand reached up to grip a fistful of Diego's hair and Oliver held fast as a strained cry escaped his lips. He lost sense of himself for only a moment, pounding into Diego until his body tensed and he finally fell over the edge. The intense heat that licked down his spine caused him to shiver and all Oliver could do was press his cheek to Diego's until he came down from the high.
Speaking the same mother tongue had been part of what had bonded Diego to Oliver so fiercely. He’d learned enough broken English to get by in the extremely limited environment they’d kept him in -- and to follow a few TV shows they allowed him, at least halfway -- and then Oliver had come like a gorgeous Latino hero, speaking so sweet and soft and gentle to him, like home. Diego had cried the first time he’d heard it, and many times after that, and he’d been saved. His own cock was aching for attention, caught between their bodies while Oliver was overtaken with passion, but Diego didn’t mind waiting. His lover’s pleasure was right up there with his own, and if he could give Oliver orgasms all day every day, he would. Diego smiled as everything started to relax again, full of dopey pleasure, his hands running down Oliver’s damp back. He still felt full and good even if he hadn’t come yet. “That’s two you owe me,” he teased in a murmur, still rocking his hips a tiny bit.