The gentle rubbing is a wonderfully tender counterpoint to the lust coursing through his veins. He feels fully surrounded, fully held and accepted, which is not an experience one usually has with a one-night stand or a casual fling. It takes real trust and depth of feeling, and it seems so natural with Bel he has to wonder (again) why they didn't do this sooner.

Doesn't matter. They have all the time in the world now, and Barcus will be sure they make the most of it.

The thrum of breath and voice against his ear is an added point of pleasure; he's sensitive there, and he can't stifle the little aah! oh! sounds he makes when Bel whispers against him. It's the words themselves that really push him over the edge, though: you feel so good in my arms and you deserve this. He wants to say something reciprocal, promise Bel the same pleasure and security, but the emotions and physical sensations combine to steal his breath away.

He cries out without words as he hits his stride, clinging to Bel's shoulders fiercely. The orgasm comes in a slow, sweet wave, accompanied with a starburst of sheer joy that whites out his vision for a moment, and leaves him teary in is wake.

For a few moments afterwards, all he can do is pant for breath, and then all he can do is murmur Bel's name against his throat.