A sharp, burning gasp tore from Rowan's throat, his eyes widening in pure, instinctive shock. It hurt.
Despite the oil and the slow preparation, the sheer, solid mass of a man breaking into him felt like an overwhelming wave of pressure that stretched his limits to the absolute brink.
"Ah—wait! Stop, please—" Rowan gasped, his voice cracking with a sudden, painful sob.
Before he could even spiral into a panic, his arms flew around Kaelen's broad neck, clinging to the knight like a drowning man grasping for an anchor.
He buried his burning, tear-streaked face directly into Kaelen's shoulder, his teeth biting into his own lower lip to keep from crying out any louder and putting Kaelen out of the mood.
Kaelen stopped moving. True to his promise and Julian's strict manual, the moment he felt Rowan constrict and cry out, he couldn't move his cock any further.
His muscles strained from the sheer effort of holding his own weight up, but he didn't care.
