* * *
I was so overwhelmed with guilt and sinful delight I thought I might die.
But knowing I’d influenced him like this made me unbearably happy…
The fact that he admitted all this—maybe Batista really was pretty open about these things.
“Aren’t you going to use it?”
“Ah—right! Sorry!”
I couldn’t keep Batista waiting.
I hurriedly unscrewed the cap and squeezed lube onto my fingers.
My body was so feverish the gel felt icy cold.
All because this damn hero was being way too obscene.
By the time the lube warmed to my touch, I pushed my fingers back inside.
He was even looser than before, his insides already softened from my tongue and earlier fingering.
He was pretty much ready.
I knew that, but I didn’t pull out—instead, I crooked my fingers and deliberately rubbed inside.
Every time I stroked his walls, Batista’s body jolted cutely.
If he wouldn’t give me his moans, I’d at least take this much.
“…Hn.”
Though he stayed quiet, when I added a third finger, Batista let out a sigh-like moan.
He tried to act unaffected, but I could hear his breathing grow slightly ragged.
His broad chest rose and fell in time with it.
His inner walls clenched around my fingers, as if betraying his arousal.
He was tightening deliberately, chasing the pleasure.
He was starting to get used to taking pleasure from behind.
His insides pulsed around my fingers, almost pulling them deeper.
But no matter how much I wanted to reach further, my fingers couldn’t go any deeper.
So I deliberately brushed over his prostate.
A strained sound escaped him.
He must not have found this level of moaning embarrassing, since he didn’t hold back.
I still didn’t understand Batista’s standards.
Pretending to focus on stretching him, I circled his walls before suddenly pressing down on his prostate with my middle finger.
His hips jerked.
This time, no sound came out. His body trembled, but he was desperately stifling himself.
Feeling mischievous, I relentlessly rubbed the same spot.
Batista twisted under the stimulation, trying to endure the pleasure.
His legs, spread wide to take me in, instinctively tightened, his thighs brushing against my shoulders.
I kissed the inside of one and gently pushed them back open.
His muscles were taut with tension.
To be this turned on and still holding back…
So cute…
In an instant, the hole tightened sharply around his fingers, squeezing them tight.
At the same time, a sticky liquid splattered.
It wasn’t even his cock being touched—just his fingers thrusting inside—yet the noble warrior had already climaxed.
Considering how little experience he had with this, it was surprising—but then again, remembering how he’d ejaculated the first time while laying eggs… it wasn’t that strange after all.
His face looked utterly devoid of lust, yet his body was obscenely lewd.
The sound of rough breathing filled the room.
Not mine—Batista’s.
“…Raul.”
A sound almost bestial escaped him.
“F-faster.”
Adorable.
He spread his legs wider.
His cock, as if refusing to admit it had already come, was hardening again.
His perfectly shaped balls were already soaked and sticky with his own release.
Beneath his flushed perineum, the overstimulated hole twitched—gaping open as if searching for something, then closing again in disappointment.
“Come here.”
Batista crooked a finger at me.
There was no reason to refuse. Instinctively, I pulled him into my arms.
Pressing our bodies flush together, I sank into him, feeling his warmth.
His relaxed inner walls swallowed my cock eagerly, as if welcoming it.
I could have thrust in all at once—but I didn’t.
“Raul.”
Batista’s voice calling my name was too tender.
The arms holding me were too warm.
The slow, sweet press of his lips against mine was intoxicating.
“Batista….”
An act I thought I knew felt entirely different now.
The moment our eyes met, filled with affection, an overwhelming emotion surged through me—unbearably sweet.
Our bodies pressed so close, the heat between us threatened to melt me into a puddle.
Was this pleasure?
No—it was beyond that.
A joy so intense I could barely think.
Every movement inside him felt agonizingly slow.
I’m happy.
Yes—this was happiness.
It wasn’t just me loving Batista in secret.
Batista loved me too.
Out of everyone in the world, he was the one who looked at me and called me “the one I love.”
It still felt unbelievable.
But how could I doubt it?
Not when Batista’s arms were this warm.
Not when the heat inside him welcomed me so desperately…
How could I deny this vivid sensation?
“I love you so much.”
I couldn’t hold it back.
Batista kissed me again, a faint smile playing on his lips.
That happy expression made my chest tingle. This feeling—it had to be love.
I kissed him back, deep and slow.
Even though I was inside him, Batista matched my rhythm, though his breath hitched slightly.
His arms trembled as they held me, and the muffled moans slipping past his lips were unbearably sweet.
When my cock was fully sheathed, Batista gasped and pushed against my chest, covering his mouth before I could even start moving.
That meant he was so aroused he might let out a loud moan at the slightest touch.
And that—that was adorable too.
Still…
If he was going to give himself to me, I wanted everything.
Knowing he’d indulge me only made me greedier. I wanted to see all of Batista.
Just once—since he’d said no before…
Maybe I could tease him a little.
I moved my hips leisurely, pulling out almost completely before sliding back in at a torturously slow pace.
Far too sluggish to satisfy my own hunger—but for Batista, still oversensitive from his climax, even this was enough.
His sharp eyes were glazed over.
His face was already flushed, his eyelids tinged pink and slightly damp.
He exhaled shakily, closing and reopening his eyes—no trace of his usual sharp gaze left, just a dazed, unfocused haze.
Drunk on pleasure.
“Batista.”
When I called his name, his free hand touched my face, brushing my cheek as if handling something precious.
Every affectionate stroke made my skin tingle.
I could feel his love.
“I love you….”
I lowered my head, pressing a kiss to the back of the hand still covering his mouth.
A silent request.
After a brief hesitation, Batista lowered it.
Permission granted, I claimed his lips.
But that was all.
The moment our lips met, I grabbed both his wrists and moved—abandoning the slow rhythm, my cock driving into him roughly.
“Ah—! Ngh…! Hah—!”
Batista’s high-pitched moan burst out—the first in so long.
His voice, thick with excitement, is beyond restraint.
I’m thrilled to see just how far Batista has unraveled because of me.
His disheveled state is always intoxicating.
When Batista realizes I’ve been teasing him, he tries to yank his hand free.
I tighten my grip, barely holding on.
Maybe it’s the pleasure dulling his strength, but for once, I manage.
Of course, if he really fought back, I’d have no chance—but Batista only glares at me, his face burning red.
God, you’re adorable when you’re embarrassed…
I hold Batista’s hand firmly, taking it as permission to continue.
Leaning back, I pull out until the very tip of my cock catches at his entrance.
The way his body clenches, as if begging me not to leave, sends a jolt of pleasure through me.
Just as the head teases the rim, I slam back in.
“Ah—! Ngh!”
“Fuck—!”
A moan tears from Batista’s lips, and I can’t help but cry out too.
It’s not just the pleasure—it’s the way his legs suddenly lock around my waist.
This isn’t playful. The strength in them is crushing, like he might snap me in half.
But it’s not just his legs.
* * *
