They stayed locked together like that for a long moment, panting, trembling, his cum slowly leaking out around where they were joined.
Stan kissed her softly, tenderly this time, brushing damp hair from her face.
"Fuck… Xenia," he murmured against her lips. "You're going to be the death of me."
She smiled dreamily, still impaled on him, aftershocks rippling through her body.
"Good," she whispered. "Because I don't want this to end tonight."
After cleaning up the mess, Stan glanced down at Xenia, who had already fallen asleep in his arms. Carefully, he carried her into her apartment, laid her gently on the bed, pulled the covers up to her shoulders, and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. She murmured something halfway between "thank you" and "streak," then drifted fully back to sleep before he even reached the door.
